<p>I had read of old-time trappers following a set of fisher tracks in the snow for days on end in hopes of harvesting the prized black cat of the North Country. But that was all just legend until fisher started appearing just south of Boston, or jes sowthah Bawstin, as we natives say it.</p>

- Kevin M.Force

After Massachusetts essentially banned fur trapping with footholds and body grips, I kept trapping muskrat, mink and raccoon with cage traps. I really didn’t give fisher much thought—until I picked up a double while checking raccoon cages near my home.

I had read of old-time wilderness trappers following a set of fisher tracks in the snow for days on end in hopes of harvesting the prized black cat of the North Country. But that was all just legend until fisher started appearing just south of Boston, or jes sowtah Bawstin, as we natives say it.

After becoming entrenched in western and central regions of the state, the fisher kept trickling into southeastern Massachusetts, and whenever I had time and there was decent tracking snow, I hit the woods cutting tracks and following them for miles, not just looking for set locations but also trying to interpret every twist and turn of the trail.

I started cage trapping fisher in earnest and soon realized that the cages I set for raccoons may be OK for most fisher but not all. After I found enough cages sprung but empty, I surmised that some big males were entering and tripping the traps but holding the doors up with their lengthy backsides and then backing out.

I switched to longer 36-inch cages with pans situated more towards the rear. After making the switch, I found almost no empties and collected some humongous wolverine-headed males.

Fisher like a big bait, and they want it fresh. I trap muskrats after fisher season and save all of the frozen carcasses for fisher bait the follow