Some trappers are expecting “catastrophic losses” to their food and financial security this year, as Canada’s second-worst wildfire season on record sent swaths of remote boreal forest up in flames.
The latest figures from the Canadian Interagency Forest Fire Centre suggest fires have torn through 78,000 square kilometres of land, with most of the fires on the Prairies.
“These are humongous fires … (the) majority of the traplines will be affected in a big way,” said Ron Spence, a trapper from Nisichawayasihk Cree Nation in northern Manitoba.
“I’m sure there’s portions of my line that are going to be affected.”
Roughly 20,000 square kilometres of land have burned this year, considered Manitoba’s worst wildfire season in at least 30 years. It’s more than double the area from the second-worst season in the province in 2013.
For trappers who call the land their office, it’s a waiting game until they can see how their traplines, equipment and cabins have fared.
Spence, a councillor in the community, oversees a portion of traplines as vice-president of the Manitoba Trappers Association. Aside from Nisichawayasihk, he looks after other areas dealing with fires and evacuations, including Tataskwayak and O-Pipon-Na-Piwin Cree Nations.
His registered trapline, a “fair size” horseshoe shape, runs between Nelson House and South Indian Lake.
Fires to the west and south have threatened portions of the line and a cabin, and flames and smoke mean it will be a while before he can go in and assess any damage.
“No one’s been able to get out. We were not allowed,” Spence said.
In Manitoba, there are roughly 900 registered traplines. Some, like Spence’s, have been passed down through generations. He can remember being raised on the land by his grandparents.
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For many, trapping is their only source of income, with the season typically running from November to May.
Traplines can vary in size, with some accessible by foot and snowshoe and running 25 to 30 square kilometres. Others stretch more than 1,000 square kilometres, with multiple cabins along them.
This wildfire season could result in some operations losing hundreds of thousands of dollars, factoring in the destruction of infrastructure, equipment and vehicles like snowmobiles, said Bill Abercrombie, president of the Alberta Trappers Association.
“There’s been some really extreme losses on some of the traplines out in the bush this year,” he said.
“The fires came so fast and so hot and burned huge areas. I know trappers that have just basically lost everything — trapping families that have been there …for generations. It’s been a very, very tough year.”
Abercrombie expects it will take a big effort to get into some of the remote areas in the fall and winter. Access is dependent on creeks and lakes freezing up and, in some cases, bridges and groomed trails have burned.
Some trappers may have insurance, said Abercrombie, but many can’t afford the high premiums.
His association offers compensation to members, he added, but it’s a small amount compared with what total losses could look like.
There’s also the loss of income.
Spence catches a variety of animals on his trapline: wolves, fishers, minks, lynxes, beavers and martens. The weasel-like martens, popular with Manitoba trappers, can net $50 to $150 for each animal, with one line catching hundreds.
The Manitoba government said some traplines are likely to be more affected by the fires than others, but the impact has yet to be fully determined. Many furbearer populations are naturally cyclical and have adapted to fire dependent ecosystems, the province added.
For Indigenous trappers like Spence, trapping is more than an industry. It’s a way of life.
“It’s not just a trapline … we gather medicine, we hunt,” he said.
Traplines are also a place where Indigenous youth participate in land-based learning that’s important to their culture.
It’s part of the reason Grand Chief Garrison Settee with Manitoba Keewatinowi Okimakanak, an advocacy group representing some communities in northern Manitoba, would like to see the development of a First Nations disaster financial assistance program.
He said governments need to engage directly with First Nations leadership to ensure emergency policies reflect Indigenous realities and rights.
“You’re not just losing property … these spaces are there to sustain our way of life. So we need the province to recognize that the traditional harvesting infrastructure is not optional.”
Spence can recall a time in the early ’80s when his family cabin on the trapline burned. They received some help from the province, and it helped in the long run, he said.
It’s something he would like to see implemented again.
He compared the loss many trappers will experience this season to what farmers go through with natural disasters.
A Manitoba government spokesperson said in an email that “compensation is not available for losses related to trapping ability or infrastructure on registered traplines, as traplines are considered an opportunity for harvest rather than a guarantee of success.”
Alberta has assisted trappers in the past, said Abercrombie, and he expects there could be some compensation this year — but to what extent is unknown.
“The reality is it’s pretty much up to us to take care of our own problems,” he said.
