My dad was raised during hard times in a Guernsey County mining town during the first part of the last century. Outdoors wasn’t just a place to relax; hunting and fishing provided at lot of evening meals. Like most rural families, chickens were a valuable staple, providing eggs and meat for the table.
He recalled how his mother would become so distraught about some critter carrying off a couple of the layers. That prompted her sons to grab a .22 rifle and a couple of traps to try to stop the thievery while collecting the pelt of the suspected culprit — the fur adding a couple more pennies to the meager family budget. Those are the circumstances that led my dad into running his first trap line.
As the years crept by, shaft-mining jobs dwindled, and his family moved north to find factory work. That led to my arrival, nearly 30 years after his first trapping experiences. The regular jobs my parents held meant that we could buy eggs and meat instead of investing in a chicken coop. The outdoors was now for relaxing rather than filling the larder or defending farm fowl. My interests turned to scouting, fishing, camping and learning to hunt.
During my sixth-grade year, dad began teaching me about trapping. I learned to use water sets to catch muskrats and raccoons.
Our neighbor appreciated the removal of those bank-digging water rats from his pond, but raccoons could be anyone’s problem. These characters and their young were a joy to watch, but they relished digging up flowers and gardens, invading out-buildings, scavenging garbage cans and raiding sweetcorn patches. They were also susceptible to distemper, a real danger to unvaccinated canines and cats. Dad explained that knowing how to reduce the numbers was part of living in the country.
As the state’s deer herd grew, my interest in trapping was diverted. My outdoor activities turned to bird dogs, recurve bows and target shooting, but I soon found myself involved in trapping for another reason.
Legislation to abolish trapping
In 1977, a ballot initiative threatened to abolish all trapping in Ohio. Issue 2 was introduced by national and international anti-hunting and anti-trapping advocates in an attempt to persuade voters that trapping was both unnecessary and cruel.
The Department of Natural Resources and the Division of Wildlife staunchly defended the activity as a wildlife management tool and the Wildlife Legislative Fund coalition was created to give sportsmen and women a firm voice.
The division’s message included: “Wildlife cannot be stockpiled. The amount of habitat available determines how many animals can live on the land … If the number of animals exceeds the carrying capacity of the habitat, some will be eliminated. Some animals may starve to death … Others will become weak from lack of food and shelter, and be more susceptible to disease … Regulated trapping establishes a time period, or season, in which the animals can be trapped and a time during which they are protected. The length of the season and other regulations are established to allow for the harvest of surplus furbearers. This helps maintain a healthy population within the carrying capacity of the habitat. Protecting the animals during other times of the year ensures that they will be able to reproduce and renew the resource.”
DOW also warned of increased zoonotic disease risks of distemper and rabies. Issue 2 was defeated, and the WLF has become the sportsman’s national watchdog, the Sportsmen’s Alliance.
The future of trapping
My continued interest in hunting and trapping took me to the Allen County Fairgrounds last year for Ohio’s annual State Trapper’s Convention. I was interested in all of the outdoor doodads that are peddled: fire starters, tanned hides and hard-to-find outdoor and trapping supplies.
A vendor called Tight Chains Company (www.tightchainsco.com) offered silk screen T-shirts and apparel, with one especially catching my eye. It read, “I wasn’t born in the wrong generation, I was put here to keep the tradition alive.” A young woman was busy helping customers, and I didn’t want to interfere with business. I made a note to learn more.
I discovered that she was Lydia Reichenbacher, a 26-year-old Wayne County, Ohio, resident and avid fur trapper. I worked as a wildlife officer for a long time and the number of women I’ve met running a trapline solo could be counted on one hand — maybe less. That doesn’t mean they aren’t out there, just that it’s not the norm. I decided to give this trapper a call.
Lydia and I had a great conversation. When asked how she was introduced to trapping, it almost mirrored my own introduction. She’d found an old trap in a barn, and it intrigued her. Asking her father, he said he’d run traps when he was young, but had no lasting interest except to possibly control predation. Getting some general guidance from her dad, Lydia decided to take it upon herself to learn this ancient trade. She studied books and online materials. Then, convinced her dad to drive her to an Ohio State Trappers Convention where she sat through hours of demonstrations.
Before she was old enough to drive, she began running her own trapline. Being homeschooled, she’d learned the importance of self-motivation, and she carried that into her research of wildlife’s habits and habitat. When her classes ended during mid-mornings, she pulled on boots and grabbed her gear to run her line.
Beginning with water sets, she began catching muskrats and raccoons. The clinics and research helped her to learn to prepare the hides for sale. She’d then visit fur buyers to do the dickering dance to arrive at selling prices — a great lesson in bartering and economics.
After trapping her first fox, Lydia became fascinated with the challenge of trapping predators. Coyotes became a new goal. She’d discovered that they’re intelligent, stealthy, intuitive, curious and a master of their universe.
“They’re the unrivaled predator roaming Ohio,” she explained.
That was true until Lydia began intercepting them in their own world. Unlike most who spot a coyote by chance, she was arranging the meeting place. She understood that to consistently be successful, she had to put in the work.
After finishing high school, she earned a degree in journalism and began writing and working in the newspaper business as an editor. Her growing interest in photography turned into a professional pastime and increased her attractions to other forms of art.
Tight chains
Throughout these activities, her entire family supported her involvement in trapping and other outdoor activities, allowing that interest to grow. Enter the idea of the Tight Chains Company, something she and her husband Eddie partnered to create in 2024. “Tight Chains,” was a term used by the mountain men exploring the Rocky Mountains (from 1810 to 1880) during their quest for beaver pelts. It was used to bid “farewell and good luck” whenever they were parting company.
Lydia explains, “Tight Chains is something that you either understand or you don’t. If you do understand, you’re probably one of the few who carries on this tradition of trapping. Not only is it extremely beneficial and necessary to our world today, it’s also like stepping back in time as we set steel and become immersed in nature like so many did before us, on this very same land that is now ours to steward. My hope is to make a big enough difference to help keep this tradition alive and spark an opportunity to have a conversation with non-trappers through unique and respectable apparel designs.”
I guess that Lydia Reichenbacher isn’t just a trapper; she’s literally “Been there, done that, got the T-shirts.” Her outdoor adventures include hunting and fishing, much of it done with her daughter, “Little O,” and dog — though Eddie’s always welcome to tag along.
What keeps her coming back to trapping is the thrill of adventure, she said. “It’s an activity that pushes your limits, mentally and physically, that has such a deep-rooted tradition for so many before us, even helping to found America.”
“Now, having a kid along makes me appreciate it even more,” she continued. “It really is a lost art. We need more kids who spend their time outdoors, learning skills like tracking, weather patterns, scent control and various species characteristics. Imagine their wide eyes when, for the first time, learning how to track an animal through the barren woods, becoming so familiar with the land … that you notice things as small as a new branch laying on the ground in the middle of a forest.”
“The rewards far outweigh any money that could be earned. Just like fly fishing, it’s not always about what you can carry home that makes it worth it,” Lydia added.
The student is now the teacher. She’s lecturing at seminars where she was once a student. Family, conservation and tradition are her motivations. Lydia Reichenbacher is an old soul who captures the past and brings it into our present as a gift.
“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”
— Ralph Waldo Emerson