Охота на пушнину как инструмент сохранения природы: история и современная практика

The long, complicated story of fur trapping came to life at a recent program hosted by the Houston County Historical Society as longtime trapper Ron Meiners presented an informative history of fur trapping in the region. Meiners brought with him the tools of his trade then and now, some of the pelts he has collected and, of course, stories. Over the course of an hour, he traced how fur has shaped local history, modern wildlife management and global fashion markets while making the case that trapping, done right, is a tool of conservation rather than exploitation. From the outset, he distinguished between preservation and conservation. Preservation, he said, means leaving forests and wildlife entirely alone, “letting all the trees stand and let them fall.” Conservation, by contrast, accepts regulated harvest of both timber and animals to keep populations healthy and landscapes productive. “You can take a 40-acre tract of land, or even a 1-acre tract of land, and that will only hold so many numbers of wildlife,” he said, describing the concept of carrying capacity. Food, shelter and water are finite, and when animal populations overshoot what the land can support, “things like illness, sickness, hunger … start happening with the wildlife.” In his view, regulated trapping is one way to keep those pressures in check. Lessons from the fur trade To show what happens without regulation, he turned to a familiar chapter of North American history: the beaver hat craze. For years, tall felt hats like the style associated with President Abraham Lincoln were made from beaver pelts. Fashion demand “almost brought the beaver to extinction,” he said, before tighter controls and changing tastes allowed populations to rebound. Those fashion cycles, he noted, still shape wildlife today. In the 1980s, when raccoon pelts were bringing $70 each, “everybody was a trapper and everybody was a coon hunter,” Meiners said. At his own peak, he ran as many as 150 box traps and once took “98 or 100 coon in one night.” That success came with a cost in labor: every hide had to be skinned, scraped with a fleshing knife, stretched and dried for over a week before sale. Today, most local furs are sold through the Fur Harvesters Auction in Canada, where international buyers especially from Russia, China and Korea set the market for wild pelts. Current forecast prices, he said, hover around $40 for wild mink, $30 for beaver, $25 to $30 for red fox and skunk, about $20 for coyote and about $15 for raccoon. High-end species that aren’t found here, such as wolverine and lynx cat, can bring hundreds or even thousands of dollars per pelt, driven by luxury fashion. Changing wildlife on the home front While the markets have fluctuated, the local wildlife community has changed just as dramatically. When Meiners was young, red foxes were abundant common sights in hayfields, picking off mice behind the baler. That changed when mange, a debilitating skin disease, swept through the population in the late 1970s and early 1980s. “The numbers really dwindled,” Meiners said. “You couldn’t hardly find any of them around anymore.” In their place, coyotes began to establish themselves. Meiners estimates they moved into the area only 15 to 20 years ago and are now a regular presence. At his home near Dorchester, Iowa, he and his wife can sit outside in the evening and “hear a dozen of them … just howling all over the place.” Coyotes have become a target both for trappers and for fashion; just a few years ago, high-quality coyote pelts used as trim on parkas were bringing close to $100 each before the market cooled. Other newcomers include bobcats, black bears and the occasional report of a mountain lion, with sightings becoming notable events in what was once a more limited predator community. Yet in his view, the most impactful predator is one most residents know well. “The number one predator in the area is the house cat,” Meiners told the audience. While running live traps for raccoons along road ditches, he often caught “20 or 30 cats” in a single day—many of them feral, ranging widely and preying heavily on songbirds and small mammals. Tools of the trade To help the audience visualize how trapping works, Meiners spread an array of equipment across the front table: box traps, Conibear body-grip traps, traditional leg-hold traps, snares equipped with deer stops and newer “dog-proof” traps designed specifically for raccoons. Meiners described classic sets such as the fox “dirt-hole set,” where a small, angled hole and carefully sifted dirt disguise a buried trap and trail sets along fence lines, highline poles and roadside culverts places animals naturally use to travel and seek cover. Years of experience, he said, have trained his eye to read those subtle pathways just driving down a gravel road. Modern trapping, he said, is heavily regulated. In both Iowa and Minnesota, traps must be checked daily unless they are lethal water sets, and every trap must carry a tag with the trapper’s name and contact information. Snares must include a deer stop to prevent serious injury if a deer’s leg becomes caught, and wildlife agencies monitor harvest reports and field data to adjust seasons and limits. The Department of Natural Resources, Meiners noted, uses everything from track plots and college survey crews to early-morning pheasant crow counts to estimate wildlife populations and avoid overharvest. “They regulate that trapping … to the point where they feel it’s sustainable,” he said. “You’ll have a population coming back again. … That’s why the DNR has set up pretty strict regulations and guidelines for trapping. They look at harvest numbers. They take a look at samples of tracks in the land, and they take a look at a lot of different data to try to figure out limits, regulations for taking animals.” RIM program: Trapping meets land stewardship The talk also connected trapping to broader land-stewardship efforts through Minnesota’s Reinvest in Minnesota program. Drawing on his work with the Houston County Soil and Water Conservation District, Meiners explained that RIM allows landowners to enroll acres in permanent or long-term conservation easements. Landowners receive a one-time payment per acre — historically in the range of $1,000 to $3,000, depending on township and land quality — in exchange for agreeing that the land will not be developed. The property remains in private ownership, but is managed for wildlife habitat and water quality. Once enrolled, it is taxed at the county’s lowest rate, similar to wasteland or unmanaged woodland. Limited timber harvest is allowed, but only under an approved forestry plan. “Some landowners just want to set their property aside, knowing that there’ll never be any development on that property,” Meiners said. For them, RIM becomes a way to leave a lasting conservation legacy while retaining control of the land. A living tradition For the Historical Society audience, the program served as both local history and living practice. The speaker’s stories ranged from gopher bounties, where children once earned pocket money turning in gopher feet for township payments, to modern skunk encounters — “Ew,” one youngster said as Meiners told his story and innovative tricks shared among trappers from Minnesota to North Dakota and Texas. “Trapping is a dirty business,” Meiners said with a smile, recalling vehicles that smelled permanently of bait and fur. Yet despite the mess and the long hours, he still finds satisfaction in the challenge of outsmarting wild animals and in knowing the pelts are used rather than wasted. After this discussion and show of furs and trapping gear, Caledonia local Audrey St. Mary Almo played the accordion. “The Beaver was much softer than you think,” said Veyda Klemp, an audience member, “and a beaver’s foot is much tougher.” The historical village The Sheldon Presbyterian Church was closed this year for repairs but will be open next year. The Pioneer Home, the Mayville Town Hall, the Daley School and the Ag Machinery Building were of great fascination to people of all ages, some who stopped by because they knew someone who lived during that era. Many came to look up family farms that are listed on the Mayville Township map. Some came to learn a little history and others came for the sheer fascination of how the pioneers lived their lives. One visitor came to the Mayville Town Hall because he was visiting his daughter and grandchildren. They looked up a relative’s farm on the Mayville map. “We are really enjoying the fair,” he said. “This is our third fair, but this one is bigger because it is the county fair. The kids are having a great time.” When asked for their names he simply said, “Theodore, Georgiana and Grampa Tubridy.” There was a steady stream of visitors to the historical buildings each day of the fair as they marveled though the history of Houston County. Young and old visitors stopped by the historical pioneer town and many were children participating in the scavenger hunt, which gave a lot of attention to the historical village. The kids coming by, some alone and some in groups, were all amazed that these were real buildings that the pioneer people used during the history and even more fascinated to hear that they were moved here. And then it was teatime The historical society also put on a Tea Party. In a younger era, the queen would be “famished” by midafternoon and in need of a large snack. Reminiscent of the era in which the tradition started, the finger sandwiches and snacks were served in keeping with the treats she would have had and at teatime — 3 p.m. The tables were decorated in red, white and blue to celebrate the semiquincentennial of our nation. In keeping with that theme, there were flag displays. Inside the museum hangs a wide array of flags, some rare and some common, but all with a story to tell all their own. The 42-star flag was used but never became official as stars were added on the Fourth of July. By then, Idaho had joined the Union. But the flags were made during an eight-month period, not expecting more areas to join the Union. Additionally, the historical society has a very large flag made by the women of Portland Prairie, which features 37 stars. The display is still up at the museum. One onlooker of the flag uttered aloud, “Why did they make it so large?” and another wondered how long it took to make it and wondered if it was hand sewn. There were other flags in display cases with other artifacts and interesting things to browse over. The Houston County Historical Society is open Monday through Thursday from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Events are posted on their social media page.