Gulo....how old were you at the time ?

Saved by a coon, wow hard to top that story.

Not beaver trapping but I had my closest call at an otter set. I had a cage set on the shore of Lake Quinault (cage trapping State). It was an 11x11 and I had not much luck and had decided a little larger cage might be better. It had been super windy for about four days and was again blowing hard but I remember thinking any dead limbs will have already come down because of the previous days of wind. The set was in a grove of big alder. I pulled the trap and replaced it with the larger one. I spent quite a bit of time bent over the trap camoing it with moss until I ran out of handy moss. I was going to get some more but bent over to get the old trap to pack it away from the location a bit when a dead alder chunk broke out of a tree and landed square on the trap. I was only about two feet from the trap when it hit and had been bent over the trap just seconds before. The chunk was large enough I could not lift one end of it. The trap was flat as a pancake. I wasn't even under the tree it came out of. It came from high up and the tree was a good 40 feet away.

Used to trap same type of area with chest waders. Big river, high sandy banks, current and channels that changed every year. Finally occurred to me that I was mortal and one slip, or a high sand bank give out or step into a new deep channel and game over.

Our house was on the old Black River, adjacent to Lake Onalaska separated by the breakwater. Just down the road from where Moosetrot lives now. Trapping season opened late on the Mississippi refuge, after duck season. This is late 60s, during my teen years, which explains the following.

Winter started with a cold snap and no snow. Perfect conditions for trapping muskrat and beaver as the ice revealed bubble trails and runs below. Also made running the 50 traps (max at the time) quicker as I wore ice skates pulling a sled with a box bolted to steel runners.

My 'rat line made a large "C" on the inside bend of this back marsh, working the huts on the periphery. Now being a week or so into the season I pulled sets that had gone stale on the front end of the line and was going to extend the tail end with new sets. Spud, lath, willow poles and #1 longsprings were all in the box. I thought why not skate directly to the end of the line, put in new sets, then skate back through the line checking sets on the way home. Except the shortcut was across a stretch that collected the meandering currents from the "C" in the marsh into one about ten yards in width. Thought it should be frozen thick enough by now. Teen years. . .

So I headed across this stretch with sled in tow, skating hard. Sure looked thick enough from a distance. Heard the ice cracking underneath as I rocketed across. That lasted about two seconds before I broke through into roughly ten feet of water. As I went down the sled shot over me and plunged into the drink. I vividly recall hitting bottom, looking up, seeing the hole, and noting the broken ice and sediment was flowing to my left with the current. In that moment I knew if I didn't gain the hole I'd go downstream with the current and life would be over.

I shot up and grabbed the ice on the downstream side of the hole. Worked my way to the edge where I had gone in and broke ice in the direction I arrived until it felt solid enough. With one movement I swung my right leg up and over and hooked the ice with the skate. Rolled over onto thick ice and kept rolling away. Stood up and started skating home. It was a very cold day, probably near zero. I was a good mile out.

By the time I got to the bank my arms were frozen to my body. It was a real chore to walk up the short hill to the house. Got to the back storm door which was a walkout from the basement and banged on it with my body. Mom was doing laundry just inside. I remember the look on her face when she opened the door. She said I'll get Dad. Must've been a Saturday morning. Dad comes, bear hugs me and carries me to the basement shower. Sets me down inside and turns the water on. The rest is a blur.

For several years afterwards any time my hands got wet and cold my fingers would swell. Was probably well into my thirties before that quit.

Sure I've gone through the ice many times since, but always under conditions I know I could physically control. And as I've aged my decision making skills have sharpened a little. That was in one word . . . stupid.

My brother and I dragged that area that summer multiple times but never did come up with the gear or the sled. Probably off by who knows how far.

Anyway, for what it's worth, respect the ice.

Sidenote: to this day when I ice fish first "iffy" ice I push out a 12' jon boat with a long length of rope tied to it, tied to a tree on the bank. And I sit in the boat and fish over the side.

Some pretty close call stories here. A young neighbor this winter brought his dad with to check a pond and he fell through ice right to his neck. We had no snow this year and ice was slick. His dad got him out. I always wear ice picks around my neck when on the ice. Maybe he would have got out on his own maybe not. I never needed trapper education but took my boys for their classes. I don’t remember any ice safety lessons. Getting back out on slick ice can be impossible. Give your trapping loved ones a pair of picks for Christmas as it could save their life

No such thing!! I'm with you on using the chisel a lot. Also got a set of ice picks around my neck, hardly notice them but sure come in handy when your chest deep.

I used to haul a light section of aluminum ladder to get out on the early ice to get beaver.carried it on top of the bike rack or in the sleigh behind the skidoo.It distributes weight when walking on the thin ice and if you go thru you can use it to climb out.
Using the chisel to check ice in winter is a safety precaution (same as a bag of dry clothes,extra mitts and bootliners on the skidoo) since around a large colony you could be standing on a foot or more of ice and one step away there could be little or none,invisible under the snow.