Such a sap! December 1, 2011

For we can make liquor to sweeten the lips from pumkin and parsnips and walnut tree chips.  

An old song quoted by Thoreau in Walden~

Winter isn’t really here for another few weeks- officially that is.  Winter Solstice feels like the true ‘New Years’ to me and this year it will be the mark of our 15^th marriage anniversary.  Wandering in the woods, skating on the river, sledding… the cold, bare bones beauty of it makes me high.  It is my favorite season.  Our monthly ‘calendar of events’ on the farm mark the seasonal plantings and harvests of life and I certainly enjoy the countdown to the coming cold.  Some time in February, we usually start tapping the Box Elder trees that form a fantastic grove on the other side of the river, below the cave and bluff line.  Commercial producers may laugh at our primitive set up but, it has cost us little and produces rich and delicious syrup.

Box Elders are native here and often line the river banks.  They belong in the Maple/Acer family and like most trees, can be tapped. You see, a warm, sunny, 40 degree or above day after a very cold nite in the teens, will create pressure in the tree and this pressure causes the sap to flow out of the tree through the tap hole. During cold snaps, when temperatures fall below freezing, suction develops and draws water into the tree replenishing the sap.

Box Elder Stand in early spring ~

Out of the hundreds of trees available to us, we tap about 50 each year.  Buckets are washed and equipment retooled each time for the harvest.  55 gallon peanut oil drums are cut in half and used as evaporators.  The spile is inserted into the the sunny side of the tree at a slight angle about waist high and set to drip the clear, mildly earth tasting, watery sap into the buckets.

Marcus and Qik inserting spiles~

A good drip starting~

Buckets up~

On a good flow day we hear the music of nectar dripping steadily into the buckets and start the fires burning.  Box Elders are also called shedding Maples because they loose their outer limbs constantly throughout the year.  This is the fuel for the fires of its own sugar in the making.  We use our backs, friends, our 1953 Johnny Popper, and Boone, our wonderful draft horse, to haul the logs through the woods to the fire for constant stoking.

Qik and Tim getting the fires going

Marcus and Ollie keeping watch~

JD hauling logs to the burn site~

Qik and Boone hauling logs to the burn site~

Every 2 hours or so, we collect the buckets from the trees and add its contents to the barrels until the temps drop and the sap slows.  There is usually about 1 ½ gallons by that point.  The idea is to boil off the water content of the syrup.  Once the level gets low in the barrels we can’t risk it burning so we transfer it to a stainless steel pot and finish it on the stove back in the house.  By ‘finish’, I mean we bring the temp to 215 degrees, test the viscosity to assure its syrupy nature and seal it in canning jars.

Sealed and on the way to the root cellar~

It is often a 12 to 16 hour day of wonderful work which may begin again just a few days later or not for another week depending on the weather.  60 gallons of sap may boil down to 1 gallon of syrup on an average for us.  We might burn 5 or 6 times to get our years supply worth of liquid gold.

Qik and the pups - sap is boiling~

a 2 barrel day~

The work is tiring but well worth the time and effort.  Eagles are visible more often this time of year, the river is rushing and there are days we get to work in the quiet, whiteness of snow.  The magic of the woods seeps into our bodies and warms the cockles of our souls.  Or, maybe that’s just what it feels like, standing too close to the fires.