by Matt Learie
One of Canada’s earliest industries was trapping. Alongside fishing, fur was among the first major exports from the country. At one time, it was an extremely lucrative trade, producing some of the toughest and most knowledgeable individuals in Canadian history. Today, trapping has shifted from a commercial enterprise to more of a tradition, a way for people to reconnect with the land and preserve cultural heritage. Trappers today do it for the love of the lifestyle and to keep alive what was once a defining aspect of Canadian identity.
Many provinces in Canada operate under a registered trapline system. Under this system, trappers are granted exclusive rights to a specific area, allowing them to manage it as they see fit. This often results in minimal competition. However, these registered lines are usually remote, generationally passed down, and highly valued in the trapping community. A great deal of effort, often over multiple generations, has gone into building and maintaining them.
Other provinces, however, follow a more open-access model. On Crown land, anyone can trap if they comply with provincial wildlife regulations. This means traps and snares can be placed almost anywhere the trapper deems suitable. Let’s explore the pros and cons of both systems.
Non-Registered Lines
For trappers who are used to registered lines, the concept of open-access trapping is often met with skepticism, even disdain. I like to compare it to sharing a bathroom in college; while having your own would be ideal, if that’s not an option, you either wake up early to beat the crowd or stay up late to avoid it.
Personally, I’ve only ever trapped in non-registered areas, and I can confirm it can be frustrating to find spots relatively free from other users—rabbit hunters, hikers, off-roaders, and, unfortunately, anti-trappers. In Newfoundland, for example, only beaver lines are registered; all other trapping is done on unregistered land. I know trappers who go as far as disabling their traps at sunrise and resetting them at sunset to avoid interference, an issue registered lines rarely face.
The most significant challenge in open areas is competition. In provinces where outdoor recreation is a big part of life, multiple user groups often converge on the same land. With the rise in reality TV shows about trapping, more people are trying their hands at it. While it’s great to see interest growing, it also brings in those who may not appreciate the commitment trapping requires. “Weekend warriors” and the underprepared can unintentionally disrupt areas others have carefully managed.
Still, there are real benefits to public-land trapping. Many who take up trapping do so because of a family tradition, learning from fathers, grandfathers, or uncles. But for those who don’t have someone to guide them, open-access areas provide an entry point. New trappers can buy some gear, head out, make mistakes, and learn by doing, just like the old-timers did.
TV makes it look easy, but the reality is far different. If you work a 9-to-5 job and have a family, finding time to run your gear before or after work is tough. A non-registered line allows people to trap without shelling out $30,000–$40,000 for a registered area hours away from home. It also allows flexibility for those without off-road vehicles, boats, or other costly equipment.
When I was in college with only a two-wheel drive SUV and a handful of snares, I could still get out and catch fur near my campus. If we had registered lines only, I might have been on a year- long waitlist hoping someone would mentor me.
Non-registered lines allow for experimentation. Trappers can try new areas, rotate watersheds, and harvest more sustainably. But the lack of boundaries invites competition. I’ve had mink boxes set within feet of mine, and I’ve come across abandoned gear left staged for the next season, an unspoken claim to territory. Most trappers respect each other, but there are always a few who will crowd your sets, disable your traps, or toss your gear into the pond. These individuals are not trappers in spirit; they’re opportunists, and they cast a shadow over the community.
Another issue is proximity to populated areas. New or inexperienced trappers often set gear near trails where people hike, walk dogs, or camp. This can lead to accidental catches of pets and negative interactions with the public. These incidents are often used by anti-trapping advocates to fuel their campaigns.
Registered Lines
To better understand registered traplines, I spoke with Glen Cartwright, President of the British Columbia Trappers Association. Glen provided excellent insight into how the system works in Western Canada and emphasized its benefits for furbearer management and conservation.
With a registered line, trappers can manage their harvest more precisely. If a trapper notices a decline in a particular species or an imbalance in male-to-female catches, they can adjust their strategy, giving species a break or targeting a different animal altogether. In public areas, even if a skilled trapper avoids catching female martens, an inexperienced trapper may come behind and unintentionally take them all, thinking it’s a great catch. This level of control makes registered lines more sustainable in the long run.
Another point Glen made was the mentorship opportunity. On a registered line, a seasoned trapper can mentor a beginner without worrying that the newcomer will turn into direct competition. Think of it like fishing; would you take a stranger to your secret trophy trout spot? Probably not. But on a registered line, the relationship is more secure, fostering knowledge transfer without risking your own hard-earned area.
Registered lines also benefit wildlife managers and researchers. With exclusive access, biologists can collaborate with trappers to study species movements, collect valuable data, and test management techniques in a controlled environment, something not easily done on open- access land.
Of course, registered lines have their downsides. After you’ve completed the requirements to become a licensed trapper, where do you go if you don’t have access to a line? These lines are expensive, often costing $20,000 to $99,000. That’s a significant investment for a new trapper who may not even have the time to commit to it fully. And there’s no guarantee those lines are close to home.
While some dormant lines may revert to the province for reallocation or auction, many are lost or repurposed. Still, for those who can afford them, there are ways to generate income beyond trapping itself. Glen mentioned options like offering trapline tours, family trapping days, and public excursions; great ways to educate the public, generate revenue, and show people the reality that is trapping.
Final Thoughts
Both registered and non-registered traplines have their pros and cons, and depending on where you live, you may only have access to one system. But if you truly want to trap, you’ll find a way.
Trapping is one of the most rewarding outdoor pursuits. It challenges the body, mind, and spirit. And just when you think you’ve figured it all out, a lynx will walk right through your snare like it wasn’t even there.