Marc Murrell: Leave it to 'Big' Beaver

Fur trappers of days gone by lived and died by the success of their trap line. The fur trade and much of the country were built on furharvesting and beaver pelts were worth a pretty penny back in the day. Now, the pelts aren’t worth nearly as much but that doesn’t keep modern-day trappers from trying their luck with North America’s largest rodent.

“My biggest beaver ever was 72 pounds,” said Mark Brannock, 51, an avid furharvester who grew up in Perry. “I caught one this year almost as big and he was 71 pounds.”

Beavers don’t normally get quite that big.

“I’d say the average adult beaver weighs between 40 and 55 pounds and those are 3-plus years old,” said Matt Peek, furharvesting program coordinator for the Kansas Department of Wildlife, Parks and Tourism. “One that big into the 70’s isn’t uncommon, but it’s atypical and that’s definitely towards the bigger end of what trappers are likely to run across.

“Beavers can get to over 100 pounds, but I don’t ever recall ever seeing one that big from Kansas,” Peek added.

There’s no shortage of beavers in the Sunflower State. They’re found in greatest numbers in the eastern part of the state as one might guess — that’s where most of the water is located. Peek admits the beaver population is generally good in those locations based on annual harvest data and damage complaints.

“They’re particularly fond of the same types of trees we are in a lot of cases, especially in suburban areas where people have nice, ornamental trees,” Peek said. “The beavers prefer to cut these down, rather than other undesirable species like cedar or hedge or locust.

“And maybe the bigger issue is most Kansas beavers don’t build a lodge and they live in bank dens so they can cause some problems with dams (bank erosion, etc.) and then the other problem is flooding and they can back up a lot of water in places in agricultural fields and flood different areas that landowners don’t wish to have flooded,” he added.

Kansas beavers don’t have a lot of natural predators, other than humans.

“Coyotes and bobcats will take them if they can get them on land, particularly the younger ones,” Peek said. “Or if a creek goes dry they’re pretty susceptible to predation from those two.”

Beavers, like many species of wildlife, are fairly short-lived animals.

“Most of them don’t make it beyond two years, but those that do are capable of living to 10-12 years or more,” Peek said.

Beavers remain a popular choice with today’s trappers because of their abundance and historical ties, as well as animal damage control. Trappers, in general, are fewer in number than they were decades ago when Brannock first got started but those that do it are extremely passionate about it. He admits furharvesting is an activity he enjoys every year and he talked about how he got started when he was a youngster.

“My dad got me hooked up with Clyde Tryon,” Brannock said. “I had an uncle who had a bunch of traps and he passed away and my aunt gave those traps to my Dad, Ron, and we just kind of piddled with them and didn’t really know how to set them but he said Clyde could help and away we went.”

Clyde passed away about eight years ago, but Brannock still speaks of him fondly and often. He has plenty of memories of their experiences together, or separately but shared as they met-up back at Clyde’s fur shed to show off their day’s catch.

“My first experience with trapping on my own was when I was a freshman in high school when I could drive,” Brannock said. “I had three raccoons and my buddy Clyde took my raccoons to Denison to Dan Barrow and he brought me back a check for $120 and I thought, ‘Oh my God, this is what I’m going to do for a living, trap raccoons.’ I caught 12 raccoons that year and it was $480 or $20 a piece.”

“And then it was in 1985 or 1987 I sold 80-some coons for $2.50 a piece but that’s just the way it was. I’ve never been one to argue about the price as it’s always been just kind of a hobby.”

Brannock said for the last five years he’s had traps set for almost every day of the season, except when he takes a little break around Thanksgiving and Christmas. His season starts on the water trapping the river from a boat for raccoons. He uses a trap that’s dog-proof and mostly raccoon-specific and baits it with cat food. He’ll typically run a couple dozen traps on average for the raccoon season and he averages 120-150 raccoons each year. He’ll catch a handful of coyotes and bobcats as well as about 25 beavers in each of the recent years.

“I keep a record of everything I’ve ever caught except for possums and skunks,” Brannock said. “I’ve got every raccoon, coyote, bobcat, beaver and anything else I’ve ever caught through the years documented and the price I got when I sold it.”

Each season, he runs a natural progression through the various furbearers.

“About the first part of December, I’ll stop trapping raccoons and try to catch some bobcats, coyotes and beavers,” Brannock said. “And the beavers are just thick and they’re everywhere and I think I could catch 10 a day but I don’t want to skin or flesh that many.”

Skinning and finishing any furbearer is hard work. Some trappers have a specialty while others are generalists. Brannock might be a little of both.

“I consider myself a coon trapper but I love trapping beavers and I like finishing and stretching them out and I just love looking at them,” Brannock said. “There’s something about that beaver pelt hanging in your garage and I just love chasing those things for some reason.”

Brannock also saves all the beavers skulls and boils them and he’ll occasionally cook up a little beaver meat, too.

“There are a lot of parts on a beaver you can use,” he said.

Brannock initially saw dollar signs when he first started trapping but admits that passion now runs much deeper.

“It’s in my family as my mom’s side of the family were always hunters and trappers and it’s just kind of genetic,” Brannock said.

It’s now about conservation and a tie to the past and simply a way of life for him outside of his day job as a Topeka firefighter.

“People ask me why I trap and I just tell them it’s in my blood,” Brannock said.