This Is One Sweet Time of The Year

Admittedly, one of the few times in my life I have trespassed onto another’s property was back 25+ years ago when I was at the ripe old age of 15. I was a curious, troublemaking kid who along with my best friend, Mitch, decided we had to experience something this landowner had on his property.

It was a Sunday morning in early spring located in a woods which sloped steeply down towards the road. Suddenly, much to both of our horror…a truck approached and our gig was about to be busted. Mitch and I ran for what seemed like an hour uphill to vacate the property. Finally, in complete exhaustion, we paused to catch our breath with heartbeats still racing along at a hyper tachycardic pace. We agreed this little scare took at least 10 years off of our young lives. But, it was worth it to satisfy a curiosity.
Mapletap
What intrigued us so much we just had to be out in this particular woods? It was spring…the snow was melting…and the sap was running. It was sugaring time in the maple woods and nothing was going to deter Mitch and I from experiencing this interesting outdoor activity. Or at least not until that truck approached.

That very next year we mustered the courage to ask the landowner if we could try tapping a few trees ourselves. Permission was granted, but we were told to go higher up on the hill where the present tapping wasn’t taking place. Not a problem. Since we only had about 5 spiles to begin with, we found such instructions quite livable given we were finally officially in business collecting sap to make maple syrup.

Our first lesson came in tree identification. Simply finding a suitable tree in the woods does not alone make it a good candidate for tapping. As Mitch and I first discovered, tapping into a basswood tree doesn’t produce the same results. Oh, I can only imagine the belly laugh those old time syrup producers must have had seeing us tapping indiscriminately into the wrong trees. But, that is how youngsters learn. Eventually, we were able to discern which were the maple trees and soon the flow was underway.

Tapping maple trees, besides being lots of fun mixed with hard work, is a very interesting activity. Did you know it is one of the only commodities that is produced solely in North America? Indeed, there is some historical dispute over the matter…but some sources say that when the explorers started arriving the Indians taught the technique to the explorers. Other say it was vice versa. Either way, the fact remains it is a North American activity that has long been a rite of spring in many woodlots.

For those who only have a basic understanding of the process, you collect sap from the trees daily and eventually you need to reduce out the excess moisture by a process called evaporating. When the sap is in its rawest form, it usually contains about two percent sugar making it only discernibly sweet when tasted directly from the tree. But with the long condensation process, eventually the sap is evaporated down to a highly concentrated sugary substance with a pleasingly nice maple taste.

All of this is hard work…especially if you don’t have the proper equipment and do it as a hobby. It takes on average about 45 gallons of raw sap to boil down to make one gallon of pure maple syrup. As I recall, if you are doing it over an open fire evaporating down 45 gallons of sap is a day-long project in itself.

Moreover, raw sap doesn’t keep for much more than a few days. That’s why the best sugarbushes have a system (some even have a pipeline) where the sap flows immediately to the evaporator and during this time of the year it can be a very busy process.

Would-be maple producers know that the sap flow is at its best during the time of the year when the days are warming above freezing, but the nights still dip below the freezing mark. Once the flow begins…it can go on for several weeks…but once the buds start popping out on the trees it’s time to pull the taps.

To me, tapping maple trees is one of the earliest signs that springtime cannot be far away. I’ve seen people tapping trees in urban areas right along busy city sidewalks…as well as out in the “sugarbush” far from any paved road. It’s hard work…it’s best done with others to assist you…but the rewards can be quite sweet, to say the least.

If you live in maple country you deserve to experience this interesting rite of spring. If you don’t want to invest in the equipment or involve yourself with that much work…check out a local nature center. Many of them have maple sugar programs where you can be as hands on as you want to be. Some might even allow you to taste the delicious fruit of your labors some call liquid gold.

Strange Winter Weather

January 2, 2005
Natural History
1 Comment

Wow…what a strange winter we’ve been experiencing up here in Minnesota. Unseasonably warm and dry for a good part of November and December…and then finally it turned cold for a period just before Christmas. I have to believe that more than any other state in this country, Minnesota has some of the most variety when it comes to weather.

I know this might be hard for someone in warm Florida or California to believe, ‘cause they think that Minnesota stays cold and snowy for 10 months each year…but did you know that we are now in one of the longest stretches where there has been no snow in our history? Indeed, as we enter the new year much of at least southern Minnesota is still brown and in some areas we have not see the ground even covered completely white as of yet this year. Strange.

Of greater concern, however, is the blast of freezing rain we experienced on New Year’s Day. I hate to see rain come down in the form of freezing rain. It is so damaging to our wildlife, particularly to the pheasants. When it rains and then immediately freezes these poor birds will actually have their eyelids frozen shut and will die quickly. Furthermore, if the birds do not have proper shelter to hide from the onslaught of the rain…they can literally freeze in place and then die. There’s no doubt about it…freezing rain definitely affects the pheasant population with some severe consequences.

Of course, other wildlife populations suffer, too. When you get about a half inch of frozen ice on everything it gets that much more difficult for all creatures to break through the ice barrier just to get to their food sources. Whether you’re a squirrel foraging around for nuts or grain, or even a turkey trying to scratch up some remnants from a corn field…life is not made any more easy by dealing with freezing ice.

Typically freezing ice will occur either early in the cold season or late in the spring…but not generally during the time of the year when we take down the old calendar just to hang up a new one. Usually by the middle of the winter…and by most accounts you could call this period of time the middle of winter…we would have had at least a foot of snow (total accumulation) with above freezing temps several weeks in our rear view mirror, so to speak. But alas, this is Minnesota…and with our “theater of seasons” you can pretty much expect almost anything to happen. Not too many years ago I remember the temps even reached into the 70s in January…and a few golfers took advantage of the opportunity to play a few holes.

It has to be particularly frustrating for our ski operators and our snowmobilers who just have not had decent winters in recent years to even make those activities worthwhile. I suppose the best thing that can be said to most people who own a snowmobile is that they won’t be wearing them out. Still, it has to be frustrating to make payments on a toy all year long and then have the season of operation now reduced to less than three months long. I guess that is why I never bought a sled and opted instead for an ATV. It just seemed to make more sense to buy a toy that you can almost guarantee use for at least nine months each year…and if you’re lucky and the snow doesn’t get too deep…even longer.

No, the winter of ’04-’05 has certainly started out to be an unusual one for some of us in the upper Midwest. So far we’ve been lucky and much of the snow has either gone north of us or to the south of us. I guess dodging most of the storms thus far has been a benefit. But wildly fluctuating temps is not always what us winter sportsmen like to see when it effects wildlife…and furthermore, for those who like to ice fish the best ice is made with prolonged periods of deep cold temps with little snow. Not with temperatures that are cold for part of the week and then above freezing several days later.

That’s right…I need to remember this is Minnesota. I’ve been celebrating the fact that we have not had to deal with much snow so far this year. But a quick glance at the new forecast might put an end to my wishful thinking…indeed; the next four out of five days have snow in the weather forecast wither colder temperatures on the meteorological horizon. Ah, Minnesota!!!!

Contemplating Life from the Deer Stand

I consider myself one of the lucky sportsmen in life…I own my own farm that has roughly 160 acres of rolling hills, meandering river, and patches of woods scattered here and there. Most hunters would likely conclude that this farm is a whitetail hunter’s paradise, and you wouldn’t find much argument there from me, either.

Even so, I don’t take any of this land ownership for granted because my family has a history that is rooted as deeply into the soil as many of the mature trees that now tower over me in the stand. Indeed, when I sit out in the deer stand I can’t help it think about life in the future…as well as life in the past.

When my great-great grandfather first immigrated to America back in 1856, it was an interesting struggle. As his son, Ole Olsen Braaten, mentioned in his memoirs:

“The western part of Goodhue County…was for the most part settled the year before we came, so there was not much land to choose from. The lucky ones had a little to get started out with, but most of us were short of money. Father had only $50 left…. For this money he bought a cow for $40; a flour sack, an ax, and a shovel for the rest. With winter at the door, the outlook was bleak. Three weeks later Father found 120 acres of land, where he built our home. Little Cannon River flows through the land, and the fish we caught there were our main sustenance for that first winter.”

Today as I leaned against a tree near the river bank I could see in the clear water some nice sized suckers or red-horse fish swimming in the stream. The very sight of those fish brought back fond memories of my youth spent fishing for these rough fish, but it also made me think long and hard about the sacrifices my ancestors made just for my family to even be here today. Knowing that those fish played an integral role in my family history and survival somehow makes the outdoors where I recreate a little more significant to me than I am sure it means to most sportsmen who do not have the same lineage with the land.

But later in his memoirs is one of my favorite passages that truly has the most significant meaning to my sportsman tradition with this family farm:

“We were in daily contact with the Indians, but they were a friendly tribe of Chippewa’s. Father traded them a rifle. Right after that they had killed three deer and decorated the rifle with three silk ribbons. We traded several things with them, and often were given venison. Usually they came by our house in the evening, carrying a deer. They had their winter camp a half-mile into the woods. It was very good hunting ground for them here…the landscape was magnificent: you could call it ‘Norwegian.’ There was an abundance of wild grapes, plumbs, choke cherries, gooseberries, and other fruit.”

Each time when I go out hunting in my woods I read and re-read that passage in my mind several times. I can’t tell you what an incredible feeling it is to know you are deer hunting on the very land that your ancestors hunted and commingled with the Indians on a mere 148 years ago. How many sportsman can say they have such a connection with their past…and even so, how many of those sportsman know any of the hunting history of that land? I bet very few actually are as lucky as I am.

Today, even though a deer never did pass my way I still had plenty to think about. Oh sure, there’s all the things that are currently going on in one’s life…but then there’s also the many truly fascinating historical events that I know about this farm where I hunt. Others who hunt here might just see this land as an opportunity to connect with nature for a few hours during the year. Yet for me, I not only have the connections with nature to contemplate…but I also have that one that links me to my ancestry. Yes, indeed, I truly am one lucky sportsman and I don’t take any of it for granted.