The Mysterious Morels

It’s a chilly May morning here at Camp Edith and the first thing I did this morning was light the wood stove! I just moved in full time on Thursday but hadn’t needed any heat. But the wind shifted to the north yesterday and despite the sunny skies the temperature began to drop. I piled on extra blankets last night and it paid off as it was 57 degrees inside this morning.

Spring is moving right along and we’re as busy as ever post sugaring season. We still have some clean up to do and lots of sugar wood to cut for next season. I don’t always get as much done as I want sometimes when I get caught up in the myriad of life’s small details. Perhaps I dwell too much on forward progress. But the seasons pass quickly and a comfortable balance must be struck. We manage to spend plenty of time outdoors and that’s never considered anything but positive. Zane will soon graduate high school and his future plans suddenly enter the mix in a newer sense of reality. But that’s another story for another day. It’s a story tied to my future and my own plans ultimately connected to nature. Almost intimidating at times. A journey of unknowns and possibilities. Time will sort it out. One day at a time.

Grass Lake outing recently.

What’s all this got to do with morels? Plenty! The hunt for them began last Saturday in earnest.Too early people were saying but we had scored big time May 4th 2021 so I decided that May 6th was worth a try. So off we went after changing the oil in the Honda side by side. A post sugaring task that was overdue. We headed to our usual spots and the search was on! We brought a shovel and a bucket to dig leeks as well. Also a paper sack for chives. Time for some of Zane’s chive/leek dip again! Forager pizza also but we needed some mushrooms! The search was slow at first but I finally spotted 2 in an old favorite spot!

Well hidden!

We picked the two small morels for our pizza that we would make later regardless of our success. We checked out a new spot and were rewarded with 5 more small morels. Not a huge collection but enough for our pizza. We left several other small ones to grow and continued our search. Despite covering a large area we found no others. We collected a nice bunch of chives and leeks before heading to Camp Edith for the night. I got the water turned on there fairly quickly so it was easy to prep dinner. We had washed the leeks at the farm spring to get rid of most of the dirt so that proved helpful.

Quick wash at the old spring!

Dinner was a success! The dip was superb as was the forager pizza! So morel season had truly begun! If you want a better understanding of morels check out the blog post: Bugs,Brush,and Brown Gold that I wrote a couple years ago. It provides some insight into our foraging hobby.

I worked at Fort Drum Monday and Tuesday so it was Wednesday before I returned to search for more morels. Zane was in school and had piano lessons that evening so I headed out alone. I went to what I suspected might be this years hotspot and was rewarded with a nice collection of smaller morels. A few big ones but overall they were running a little small. A close examination of their bases revealed that they were fully rip and needed to be harvested.The morel’s stem will turn a dark brown when fully ripe. A sign that it’s about to tip over. Some morels are a darker species anyway and grow somewhat smaller. The tan ones can get rather large under the right conditions. I was on a roll and a second nearby new location yielded more! I left a number of small ones to pick the next time Zane would be with me.

Decent picking!

I spend the rest of the afternoon searching for more morels in a variety of places but only found 7 more total. But it’s still early in the season so I wasn’t disappointed at all. I had sprayed my clothes and boots with tick repellent prior to entering the woods. I flicked a few off my pants but managed to escape any attaching themselves to me. They are the scourge of foraging and cling to the low brush everywhere. Not using repellent is a bad idea! I like a brand called Ben’s and find it very effective!

Good repellent for ticks.

Wednesday evening found me cleaning the morels. It involves halfing them and soaking the pieces in cold water with salt. Halving and washing them will reveal any ants or other insects that might have burrowed inside the morel. It’s fairly common to find insects inside a morel. No big deal really. After cleaning my prizes I stored some of them in layers in a plastic container. Layered in moist paper towels they will last a few days in the refrigerator. The rest I pan fried with butter and a little olive oil. I add plenty of salt and pepper as well. I had a plan for them! Mushroom and Muenster cheese burgers! Yum! Of course I ate a few hot ones right out of the pan!Wow! What a treat!

This is the best!

So Friday came and Zane was eager to hunt mushrooms after school. We hit the new hotspot and the haul was significant! He’s great at spotting them. He uses the “drop down” technique we’ve learned works the best for finding them hidden under the ground cover of leaves and small trees. At risk for ticks but with treated pants and boots it’s fairly safe. We both had containers that filled quickly at the hotspot before we headed off to other locations. Our harvest was small at the other spots however. But we knew that the early season could change that so any location where a couple were found will be revisited again. The two spots that were last year’s hotspots have only yielded a few so far.It’s a fickle business of searching this hobby of ours! Always checking new locations and hoping for the mother lode! We cover a big expanse of ground to get a decent collection most days. The side by side speeds up the process of getting around though and helps with the tick avoidance situation.

Nice sized collection!

Back at Camp Edith it was cleaning time. Zane cut one open that was full of ants! I quickly took it outside to dispose of them. No harm done and the morel was added to the salt water bath. They were pretty much insect free after that. We stored some away and cooked up the rest. Zane was eager to try my mushroom and cheese burgers! A hit so sure!

Charcoal grilled to perfection!

So that’s the story here as morel season begins once again. We’ll continue our searching and dodging the nasty disease carrying ticks. Last season we had our first success around May 10th. Our final harvest was May 20th. But we didn’t spend the time hunting last year that we intend to do this year. I was living in the Adks in the camper for part of May and missed some of the short morel season. I think I will head out today and search some new places.Why not? It’s sunny and cool so maybe the black flies won’t bother so much.There’s a blissful contentment in the search for the brown gold. A sudden rush when you spot one hiding in the leaves. A wonderful smell when your container gets full. A sense of connection as you clean them and add them to your dinner menu. And of course the taste bud explosion when you eat them! As I like write here these simple words: to have never known certain things is to have missed something extraordinary. The morel mushroom provides a powerful connection to nature. One of season and one of purpose. A place where spirit energy surges with new growth and something much more profound. The hunter gatherer relationship with the forest and waterways. Never to destroy or deplete the source but to enjoy a little of it. It’s truly something amazing to me. A place where bonding and teaching others builds long lasting traditions and memories. We call those memories MOONTABS !!

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The group of seven!

Food For Thought

As spring advances into May it’s easy to forget that spring actually started in late March. After some really warm weather we have had an abundance of rain lately. It’s stayed pretty cool too. But we’ve been busy with a lot of small details. Maple syrup season ultimately ended but the work continued.We had to begin the clean up and start the preparations for next season recently. We took a little break however before the cleanup started in earnest. It was time to think about foraging!

The cowslip patch.

Maple syrup is food for us. We use it in a lot of our recipes. I’ve used it every morning to sweeten my coffee for years now.But that’s another story. This time of our thoughts turn to foraging. The hills,fields,and swamps sprout their gifts for us to find. It’s a fun process! This art of collection!

Chives at the farm.

We found some early sprouting leeks on one of our ridges the other day. They were small but potent! We ended up making a turbocharged dip with them and the chives we harvested.

The spinach like cowslips. Yum!
Fresh leeks ready to clean.
Chive and leek dip about to be blended.

We took our collections to another level when we decided to add them to a pizza! Chives and leeks on a pizza really make the flavor pop!

Forager pizza!

And then… the apple crisp! Hit it with it maple syrup ahead of the bake? Over the top!

Oven ready!

So this super short post? Food for thought MOONTABS followers. A brief look into our spring here. Don’t worry. There’s lots to come! Eating is a big part of our lives after all. And pictures get it right sometimes!

Coming Out Of Orbit

Sugaring season finally ended this week as temperatures hit the high seventies. Unseasonably warm for April. The time has passed in a blur since my last post but that’s just the norm for syrup season.Call it the daily grind of dedication where writing doesn’t occur.The comfortable orbit of routine held steady while things continued to slowly warm up after the third week of March. The snow steadily disappeared especially after a big rain storm one night.Things were transforming quickly!

The haul roads move from snow to mud.

It’s been a good season overall. The weather cooperated well with cool nights and days that rarely passed the mid forties initially. There was a persistent breeze from the north that held temperatures down and quite a few cloudy periods.Rather perfect for decent sap flow and our gathers remained fairly steady. The evaporator repairs held together and our syrup count increased with each boil. Things were getting done and we established an effective gathering strategy of our string that eventually reached 530 taps. We added several new mini-tubing runs on some hard to reach ridge lines and they produced well late into the season.Good sap runs would yield about 400 gallons of sap. We had a mixed crew to help with the gathering with people assisting as their schedules allowed.Patrick Bourcy creator of the Facebook group Just Go Outside brought his daughter Lilly over to help one Saturday and she had a blast! We had the gathering string figured out and always managed to get the work done. Feeling tired by the end of the day was to be expected but it was a good type of exhaustion! Some aspects of our seasonal hobby never change.

Girl power! Jen,Rebecca,and Lilly.

As the snow melted away it became very muddy and the sap haul roads were a mess! Pretty typical. We had to abandon our snowy shortcuts across the meadow and take the longer road route to avoid the mud. Things were beginning to look much different throughout the sugarbush with pockets of snow remaining in certain sections. Some of the trees began to run less sap and I decided that we would need to add some additional taps to keep the intake consistent. I chose some reserve trees in the two meadows on “the hill” as we call it. We would end up using the side by side to gather them to avoid meadow damage from the much heavier tractor. It worked out well.We chased the last of the snow into the sheltered pines where the sap ran clear and plentiful. Call it a boost into a new orbit of routine.

Chasing the snow to reach the reserve trees.

The signs began to show themselves as the season progressed. Yellow sap from the smaller maples and trees that shut down entirely. The larger maples of the string began to truly release their sap and held the sap quota fairly consistent. We began to start pulling a few nonproductive buckets along the string and Jen nicknamed them “ kicked buckets”. A name that stuck. Zane and I would sometimes work alone on the late gather after his school day had ended. I would yell “kick it” whenever I decided to pull a bucket. It’s a favorite beginning to several songs I like so that’s why I was doing it. He quickly tired of it even if I didn’t. Levity is an important part of making tedious work less boring I feel. A strategy I have used for years on the construction sites to survive the long days of often menial task. Zane and I would talk about all sorts of things while we worked. I enjoyed this part of my days. He’s my apprentice of all things rural heritage. He’s still young and has lots to learn but that’s the way of things.

Lids dropped in by gatherers. Sign for a kicked bucket.

I watched the weather forecasts closely and tried to gauge whether we would meet our goal of 100 gallons of syrup. 530 taps should have been plenty to accomplish that but the weather was changing quickly and sugaring is a fickle business at times. Years ago it was very different and the seasons seemed to last longer. The old timers rule of one quart of syrup per tap for the season no longer applies these days. 400 good taps can produce 100 gallons of syrup with an ideal season. We tap more these days to compensate for a much more compressed season. The quality of the syrup has been superb! Amber Rich grade held for much of the season but eventually the Dark Robust grade was reached towards the end. Very normal and we began filling the 30 gallon stainless steel commercial barrel to sell on the open syrup market. The commercial grade syrup will usually generate enough cash to cover our operating expenses. As I watched the forecast I realized that we might not hit 100 gallons of syrup. Time was short now. But one small window of opportunity was coming before the season reached its conclusion. 4 frosty nights and sunny warm days. I knew our old string would continue to produce sap but not enough. Kicked buckets were continuing to be brought in. We would need to call in further reserve trees for a few days.They would be scattered and few but they were available in the area we call “behind the barn”.

A huge reserve tree on the Tail End String.

I set out on a Thursday morning and pulled in 50 plus kicked buckets from the original string. The reserve tree string on the hill had been a good decision and they had ran well. They were time consuming to gather but kept a nice flow coming in. I knew it was a lot of work to tap more trees for just a few days of sap flow but was gambling for a payoff. I suppose part of me wasn’t ready for the season to end. That stubborn side that likes to achieve goals. Bullish and foolish at times. Prone to impulsive decisions that add more work to an already busy routine. I had considered the options carefully I felt so I set the plan into motion. Using the pulled kicked buckets I set tapped 54 new taps on some nice big survivor maples that had beat the 2016/2017 die off.They had once been part of a couple different strings that we had ran years ago. So spread out though that it wouldn’t make sense to tap them under normal circumstances. These were not normal circumstances. I called them the Tail End String.

Bringing in the kicked buckets to redeploy.

It was a very warm day for tapping and the sap burst from the fresh taps like it was under pressure. Very encouraging and I was fueled by the possibilities. 54 were added before Zane showed up to help gather the old string. We pulled in a bunch of kicked buckets and about all that remained were our mini-tubes. We left scattered buckets along the string that were still producing but our number of old taps was greatly diminished. The new plan was in place and the sun set on another day.

Until tomorrow.

The weather cooperated and we were able to continue to bring in additional sap due to the new taps. Last Monday we brought in everything that had been our original string gathering sap along the way. The new taps were kept in until Tuesday for one final gather. The Tail End String was a success. Tuesday’s boil yielded a few gallons of super dark syrup that I plan to use in crafting our Moonbeams hard cider that we are working to create. Wednesday found me working late getting set up for the final boil where water is ran through the evaporator to push the final gallons of syrup sap through. The final boil yielded an additional 4 gallons of syrup by 10:30 pm before I literally tapped out and had to quit for the day. It was over! At least the tapping,gathering,and boiling part of sugaring. Next was the cleanup. Just another part of our labor intensive hobby!

Headed to the conclusion.

In reflection I realize that this brief post doesn’t even cover the reality that was the syrup season of 2023. It doesn’t accurately describe the true emotions,the routine,or the mind numbing fatigue that ensued. But those things exist in other posts written in different times and under different circumstances. The true connections of this season still haven’t had time to completely catch up to me I feel. The magic happened and it exists in the numerous jugs of carefully crafted product that brings smiles to our customers faces. It lives in their comments to me. It lives in our hearts,photos, and in our memories. For in the midst of the conclusion of this sugaring season something more was thrown into our schedule by some sudden decisions. It’s destined for an upcoming post. It was a push but also successful in its purpose. Some things in life can not wait forever nor should the voice of spirit energy be ignored. The forward momentum begs its place in schedules.

The sugar house woodshed is almost empty! A sign of a successful season.

I dedicate this post to the members of the newly formed Macomb Sapsuckers Local 1545. A joke of sorts but one of recognition. Without the efforts of our volunteer gathering crew none of this would be possible. I thank Zane for stepping up and partnering with me. I thank Jen for pitching in for her fifth season of tireless assistance. They are the big two workers of our tiny operation. I also thank Rebecca and Randy Reynolds,Gail Gardner,Patrick and Lilly Bourcy,and Scott Force for helping us achieve our goals. I also thank our neighbor Tom whose woods produce a good portion of our sap. I cherish my unwritten agreement with him that we honor each season now. Fairness and honesty bring favorable outcomes. We truly shared some memorable moments together! As for me I am stronger and more fit then I was on February 27th. The first day. Proud of what we accomplished. Tired and ready for a break from the routine. And as securely grounded in my rural heritage as ever.We made things happen! Our tired iron held together once again. Who knows what comes next. But spring will come again next year and the sap will rise again. And I hope to be able to begin the whole process again.I leave you with my personal quote. “For each person there will be but a finite number of syrup seasons to enjoy ”.Best not miss them in my humble opinion.✍️

Launched!

Today is the first day of spring and sugaring is moving along nicely. We had some evaporator issues the first time we boiled when my repairs to the back flue pan failed to hold. We lost some sap but I was able to fire down with no further damage luckily. The good folks at Mud Lake Stalls in Hammond were able to weld it back into service luckily. It was an anxious moment for me and our entire season was on the line! It was a chore to get it over to them and involved disassembling the front pan before we remove the back pan. Needless to say we got back online with no time to spare.

4×10 evaporator.

Prior to the evaporator issues we had continued to set taps and had reached a count of 400 plus. Mostly buckets but a few mini-tubes as well. Mini-tubes pick up trees on the steeper ridges where gathering buckets would be difficult. They are removed post season and then washed. They are time consuming to build but save time gathering.

Mini-tube collection containers.

We had collected about 400 gallons of sap before my first failed boiling attempt on March 8th. On Friday March 10th we launched our first successful boil after reinstalling the repaired flue pan in the late afternoon. Everything went smoothly after that and we were able to get 2 gallons of syrup before we ran out of sap. The first boil rarely yields much syrup as the entire evaporator has all fresh sap. One it’s “set up” it will yield about 2 gallons of syrup every hour.

The first boil.

We needed to use the truck’s inverter to power the sugar house lights once darkness hit. Zane and I enjoyed the moment and our season that truly launched! We took numerous photos and videos throughout the evening. It had been quite a busy week! The continued setting of taps. One very cold gathering night where we had difficulty getting the sap out of the buckets that lasted until 8pm followed by the breached flue pan that had to be repaired. But that Friday night found us entering the comfortable orbit where routine would be securely established. The weather was cooperating with cold nights and warm days. The snow was holding and there had been no wild temperature spikes. For the first time since starting sugaring I began to relax a bit.

The night boil.

It looks like it’s going to warm up quite a bit this week and we expect most of the snow to melt. We have already been into some mud but it’s going to get much worse! We are producing some good quality maple syrup and have been able to keep up with the sap flow. The season is progressing and it’s anybody’s guess when it’s going to end. We are still building more mini-tube runs and our tap count is around 550. We could find ourselves buried in sap shortly. But our little team of workers pulls together and so far we have been able to keep up. It’s time to get moving and check on the taps. Maybe the gather can wait until tomorrow. I won’t know until I get there. It’s always a gamble!

The gathering crew hard at work.

The Countdown.

March 4th. Ironically it’s been two years since I wrote the blog post “Not Just Yet”. We have recently begun work to start the 2023 maple syrup season. About 111 taps have been set with buckets but there’s a lot left to go in! The evaporator and storage tank are mostly ready so we are in good shape. We will soon dig out our short plastic tubing runs for the harder to reach trees on the side hills.We call them “mini tubes”. I will follow up on them in a later post.

Tapping on snow.

I always like to acknowledge milestones. Yesterday Zane celebrated a milestone when he successfully passed his road test. It took some time and practice but that is now behind us.It seems strange that he could have gotten it two years ago. But I never felt he was ready. I certainly wasn’t! He will be driving my old 2013 Ford Focus shortly. That will help during sugaring and cut down on my driving. Zane is a big help with the sugaring process. He’s very strong and capable at age 18. I took him ice fishing last week when he was on winter break. Fun times!It was hard to believe it had been almost two years since we had last gone!

Nice one!

I broke out the sap haul roads the other day before setting taps. There is much less snow then most years but there were plenty of downed limbs and trees to remove. I broke in the Northern loop trail on our neighbor Tom’s property where we set many of our taps these days. For two years we have ventured a short distance up into a section of his woods on the South side of his main access road. I have been wanting to cut an entire loop road through here but never took the time to get it done. There’s a nice group of easy gathering maples there that I wanted to add to our count. Wednesday I made the decision to carve out the trail and got it finished after several hours of chainsaw work. The loader was handy for moving larger logs and brush.

Blasting through!

Thursday found us tapping the new Southern loop under warm but cloudy skies. Jen and her friend Gail came over to help me get 96 taps in place. This is Jennifer’s 4th syrup season and I wasn’t sure she would be coming at all given the circumstances of our lives. We all enjoyed the simple moments of task and toil. Some moments are best not overthought and I will leave things there. Everything went well and I was happy with our progress.

Season 4 for Jen! She knows the ropes.

It’s hard to know just how this or any sugaring season will play out. Given the wild swings of weather this winter I have been a little anxious and uncertain. But one thing remained constant: we were going to make our best attempt to make it happen! When I arrived at the farm Monday the unbroken snow was like a place of ground zero. Many things still needed to happen despite the few things we had done to get ready. I find peace of mind in the motions of checking things off our lists. The old quote says that a journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step.

The first steps.

We got more snow last night but with the sap haul roads broken in today it should present no problem. Building a base of snow is beneficial to “holding” the season in place. Huge warm ups are bad and the nemesis of maple syrup producers. We like the cold nights and warm days in the 40’s. We are approaching a launch of sorts as the upcoming season inches forward. It inspires a certain mental image. I picture a NASA control room like in the movies. A line of system operators waiting to sound off prior to the countdown. I imagine myself being the leader in the imaginary control room of the sugarbush. It might sound like this: Tractor systems : go for launch. Evaporator systems : go for launch. Firewood and primary fuel systems: go for launch. Storage systems: go for launch. Getting the picture? The final countdown approaches but with some systems at “no go” status we aren’t at “T Minus 10”. But we are in motion and should reach our launch date. Weather is the key component. I estimate 7 days now.

Setting the taps and buckets.

So the snow has stopped and it’s time to get busy. These are the days of work that produce sweet results. The words will flow as the season advances and I will attempt to take you deep into a special place. It’s in the words of my former posts but time and circumstance bring new memories. New thoughts and new possibilities. So follow our progress as we launch into syrup season 2023!

The Mystery Is Solved

It’s January 2023 and the weather remains unseasonably warm for this time of winter despite the major storm just before Xmas that hit upstate New York. It left us digging out for several days and reeked havoc out on the highways. The loss of life was surprisingly high despite the fact we live in a modern world of technology and comfort. People took unrealistic chances and were not prepared for nature’s fury. It’s a sad and deadly reminder that nature very much controls more then many care to acknowledge. We hunkered down with a generator on standby and well stocked cupboards. We were fortunate to never lose power here. The outcome could have been very different with an extended outage given the temperatures. It was a time to count small blessings and enjoy our good fortune.

Buried by the plows.

It wasn’t too many days after the storm that the weather turned warm with highs reaching 50 plus degrees. The snow disappeared quickly and the ridge tops began to bare up again. The warm spell has continued and heavy rains have reduced the snow pack even further. I took advantage of the situation and got back on the log landing working on a firewood order. We got out for a snowboarding day at Mt. Pisgah in Saranac Lake as well while Zane was on Xmas break. My performance was less then perfect on the rough and poorly groomed slope. We had a lot of fun regardless!We never sit idle for long and were happy to get outside as much as possible.

Zane shows off on the final run of the day.

Last Monday I had gotten some farm work caught up so I decided to take a long trek down the state land across Beaver Creek near the farm. I left my car in the farm property driveway and walked the road over to the spot where I would start my trek. I was shocked at the bags of garbage I found near the edge of the waterfall that empties into the gorge from the unnamed upper creek. Deer bones from several deer, cardboard, tires, and all types of other crap. I even found a discarded jet ski! It’s unreal the blatant disregard people have when they litter and toss stuff into this waterway! ( I contacted the DEC and they are going to make an attempt to stop the littering in this location.) What truly bothered me was the head,skin, and remains of a doe floating in the pool at the base of the waterfall. Flushed down the falls by unscrupulous individuals and left to tarnish a beautiful location with black plastic bags that will remain for years.

The flushing falls of the ignorant and uncaring.

I enjoyed the remainder of my trek and will mention it in a later post. It’s noteworthy to say that after I left the highway and ventured further into the forest I encountered no other garbage or human activity of any kind. Why do I mention the garbage and dump the story here on my page? There’s a connection here that will tie everything together shortly. It’s got to do with human activity and human impact on the lands that surround the farm property. A story within a story where questions were recently answered.

Looking across the gorge at our farm property.

If you read the story about the QR scan codes then you already know that all my research as to their origins was purely speculative. We believed that they had been placed by an orienteering group. Further research had brought me no closer to solving the “case” and things were seriously stalled out with few leads in sight. My DEC contact had put out a few inquiries but had also come up short in his investigation. The answer to the mystery remained unsolved and in hindsight it’s painfully obvious now that it’s been solved. But the location of so many of the QR scan code tags on state land property had thrown me off the scent so to speak. The clues came pouring in just two days ago and I solved the mystery quickly after that within a matter of hours. The big break came because of the discarded deer bones. Funny how the thread unraveled!

These started my investigation.

I was splitting wood at the warehouse landing when I noticed my dog Gracie had wandered off. Great! I thought. She’s gone down after that scummy garbage and deer carcasses. She had spotted them on Monday during our walk. A short time later I had a visitor at the landing. An acquaintance of mine who lives nearby stopped to tell me that Gracie was in fact across the swamp digging through the debris. We got to chatting about all the garbage along the road. I mentioned the QR code tags everywhere and he said he knew something about who had put them there. “There was a crew of 5 guys parked along the road and headed into the state land awhile back”. “They are working for the mining company”. I knew that the mining company had been doing test drilling all over Macomb in the past few months. It’s important to note that many people don’t own their mineral rights. As land owners we have “surface rights”. Many land owners in the past sold the mineral rights and conveyed them to new owners. I don’t know about ours but I would require proof of conveyance before allowing individuals to enter my property.It was common knowledge where they were drilling core samples in different locations around the small town of Macomb. Also in the area known as North Gouverneur. Gossip travels fast here. As do rumors. In fact the mining company had been drilling along side Lead Mine Road just up the road from our farm.But QR tags on the state land? Why would they be there? But this was the first solid clue since the investigation had started. I decided to contact my sister as I knew she had received a letter from the mining company in October but I hadn’t heard anything else about it since. She sent me a copy of her letter and another clue entered the equation. Surface sampling was the term used in the letter for mineral exploration that was being used on select properties. This was getting interesting!

Surface sampling is briefly described in the photo below.

There was a phone number on the copy of my sister’s letter with a contact name for any questions regarding the activities on the targeted properties. I called the number and spent close to an hour having a productive conversation with a company representative. He was very upfront and informative. He answered all my questions and we shared a lot of information in a short period of time. The mystery was solved when I asked about the QR code tags. It seems that they were placed by a consultant who was hired to take surface samples from various places in the area. The workers of the consulting firm were supposed to have removed the tags when the project was completed but hadn’t otherwise I would never have spotted them. I told the representative that I wasn’t too concerned about the tags as garbage in the forest. One drive down our road would produce more garbage then all the tags put together. Sad but true. I offered to remove them. The answers to different things that had been happening around the farm now made sense. Take for example the vehicle that someone had spotted in my farm property driveway that I knew nothing about as I was in the Adirondacks at the time. The tags on my sister’s property were there legitimately placed assuming the mining company owned her mineral rights. But the state land tags? Apparently the mining company may hold the lease to the mineral rights there. Strange as that may sound. There’s plenty of research left to complete on this investigation but we have answered the initial questions.

So where is all this headed? The mining company seeks to continue present and future operations here in the north country. Someday they will no doubt seek fresh reserves of minerals. Their current extraction of zinc is thousands of feet below the surface and may someday prove economically unviable. Will they seek to extract zinc or other minerals from leased property in Macomb? They are currently continuing an exploration project that was initiated by a former owner of the mines in 2005.The locals all remember the helicopters flying over with a gadget cabled underneath mapping potential mineral sources using a magnetic based technology. This data is still useful after over 17 years and is being utilized as part of the exploration process. My story is not to condone or condemn mining activities in our area. My story merely showcases a time in history where a unique moment in time intersects my personal journey. One that may impact my future and the future of my son here in the township of Macomb. Mining has a long and productive place in our local history. Our father actually worked in the mines for a time many years ago before decided he didn’t care for it. The past and the future may intersect once again in the rocky hills of Macomb if mining resumes here.It’s hard to say right now.

I believe this may have been part of the Brown Mines that occupied my uncles property.

I will close my post with the following statements to clarify my personal opinions. I have made every attempt to write honestly and factually. I chose not to name the mining corp. or target individuals. Mining has and continues to be private sector industry in this often economically depressed region. It brings jobs and tax revenue to our county coffers. I gathered a few zinc statistics to showcase after the post as screenshots from the internet. No clue as to their factual accuracy. My opinion is mostly neutral and non biased I feel. As a consumer of material goods in this modern society I acknowledge that the very goods I consume originated from some source somewhere on this earth. An earth with dwindling resources and ever growing population. I feel that we as consumers should not embrace a “not in my backyard mentality”. Do I want the lands of Macomb altered and changed forever? No. But as a consumer of things I that I will continue to buy they must come from somewhere. It’s a heavy place to dwell for long this study of our use of resources and our desire to protect our properties of rural heritage. The mining operations from 100 years ago here in Macomb have been healed by nature to a greater degree. Perhaps the mining operations of the future may leave an even lesser impact. I will continue to follow this story and hope to bring additional historical facts to this page.Do your homework on the importance of zinc in our daily lives. We can’t stop mining it unless we change our very existence.We walk a slippery slope upon the face of our fragile planet. It’s going to take wise choices to not repeat the mistakes of the past. We are all in this together. ✍️

The QR Code Mystery

December is moving right along and I was lucky enough to get out for my first ice walk last week down on Beaver Creek. It’s not fully frozen however and called for some finicky maneuvers. I picked my way close to shore for a time but eventually ventured out onto a section of the main channel for some photo opportunities. There was a little bit of snow on top of the thin ice in the shallower areas but the main channel had a thicker and slightly safer layer of “snow ice”. Not the nice clear ice of hard freezing nights before a snowfall but the aftermath of snow that froze as it covered the water’s surface. Always tricky! But the savvy Icewalker knows the benefits of speedy traveling on bare ice rather then struggling through the rugged woods on shore. Dry feet aren’t the constant companion of an Icewalker. Neither is a dry body for that matter. The trick is staying on top! As always the Icewalker’s motto must be remembered: “The distance in must be traveled out.” Its much more pleasant to travel out dry!

The snow ice of the main channel.

I assessed the wetland system via my sister’s property just down over the hill from our main farm buildings. The ridges along both sides of the wetland are rather steep and difficult hiking. Rocks and fallen trees make for slow going. Thus the allure of the ice. I hadn’t quite reached the ice when I spotted a pink ribbon tied to a tree. Strange given this is private property. A closer look revealed that there was a tag attached to the small tree. It had a scan code and seven numbers on it. I used my IPhone to attempt to “ open” the code but nothing worked. I considered taking the tag with me but decided I shouldn’t without consulting with my sister first. I continued to hike on.

Tag one.

There’s always something to see when hiking the Beaver Creek gorge I’ve learned over the years. The beaver continually alter the wetlands by building dams along its course. Given the width of the wetland it’s a major engineering endeavor for the beaver to accomplish. But they’ve been at it for years and grassy foundations of former dam activity have made an almost solid foundation in one spot. There’s a choke point where the channel narrows through a shallow section of the swamp. A small dam here floods a large area and doesn’t challenge the beaver all that much. There’s usually beaver activity here but this year they had raised the dam some and subsequently there was a lot more wetland covered with deeper water.The muskrats had build numerous houses in this larger section. The most I had seen in years. Once I reached the dam I was in a bit of a situation! The ice below it was brittle and caving in. “Shell ice” we call it. The result of water depth dropping with no time for adequate freezing. It’s the Icewalker’s nemesis!

Beaver business at the “Deep Hole”.

I bog hopped my way towards the distant shore from my location in the center of the swamp. It was a challenging series of carefully executed moves. Perhaps like a soldier picking his way through a minefield in a movie. I was losing my nerve by the minute and regretted my decision of early ice walking.It was beautiful in the soft maple forest that survives there though. In the midst of trees and small clumps of tag alders I was saved from the wind. The sun was shining down on me as I slowly crept closer to the solid land that was tantalizingly close. It was a cold afternoon and I really wanted to stay dry! I reached the narrow channel and edged out onto the thin ice. Gracie the dog was close behind and seemed a little nervous herself! Suddenly a series of cracks appeared under my feet. I froze and several more shot out in different directions. It once again reminded me of a movie scene! But in the movies the hero never falls through! There was no time to waste so I ambled forward in a sliding shuffle that covered the distance quickly. I reached the shore soon after and celebrated my good fortune! I was off the ice and had no interest in going back out after that. I decided to head for the high ground.

The sketchy section below the dam.

I began to ascend the steep ridge that reaches all the way down to the shoreline. I got on a deer trail that crosses the slope of the ridge in the easiest path. Trust the animals to find the best way upward. I hadn’t gone far when I spotted another one of the pink ribbon/scan code tag combinations. It was identical to the first one and covered with muddy fingerprints despite being exposed to the elements. Had someone dug in the dirt before handling it? I once again trying scanning the card to no avail. I pressed on towards the high ground.

I was headed to a large rock bluff that we named the “Mid Point” when we were teenagers. It sits between two other rocky bluffs called the “Low Point” and the “ High Point”. I suppose we could have been more imaginative but it’s a rather accurate description overall. The LP and the MP are somewhat close together while the HP stands higher about one half mile away to the East. The views are spectacular in a 360 degree panoramic fashion. They are some of the highest places around in the area. A favorite boyhood haunt of mine. We camped years ago on all of them at one point or another. There’s a reason why the rock is bare upon them and the evidence still remains many years later. A forest fire destroyed the white pine groves that once occupied them during a dry spell. Deliberately set I was told although I have no factual proof to confirm this. The fire was so hot it literally burned the topsoil right down to the bare rock in the higher sections. Even to this day you can find the charred pitchy root balls and stumps that are super rot resistant in their rocky perches. We discovered as teenagers they made excellent firewood and burned with a brightly lit fragrance.No need for artificial light when one was used and the wood burned for a long time. Just when the fire occurred is an unknown to me.Over a hundred years I suspect given my age. I hope to research that sometime if archives exist.

Charred stump remains.

I found a place to sit on the Mid Point and snapped a few photos. It was a bit chilly with a North born breeze hitting me but I was warmly dressed for a December day. I kindled a small fire to keep the chill at bay and sat for a long time. It was a place very familiar to me and one that I try to reach every December before Xmas. It is my place for silent reflection and I always have it to myself. Gracie plopped down next to my legs and she made an excellent windbreak! Off in the distance my silence was interrupted at times by three pairs of jets doing some type of military exercises. Most of the time they were silent leaving streaming contrails like writing in the sky. They left eventually and the sky was silent until a flock of snow geese passed overhead.

Snow geese

I added wood to the fire several times. I burned a small piece of pine stump and was rewarded with the familiar scent of pine resin. ( pitch trapped in the roots). I noticed another pink ribbon down in the woods below but didn’t bother to check it out. I assumed it was the same as the others. It was getting late so I finished off the fire and began the trek back towards the farm.

Looking towards the Adirondacks.

Since then I have attempted to figure out the mystery of the ribbons and scan code tags. The tags are actually called QR codes. (Quick Response).

Familiar with them on merchandise.

I have put requests up on social media pages asking for help. People had lots of comments and have been super curious as to the origins of the tags. I finally got a break through yesterday when a friend of mine who works at a local land trust suggested that the tags may belong to an orienteering group. Not a subject that I knew much about although I had heard of it. I began to research online and was soon rewarded with some promising information. I now believe that the mystery tags are from an orienteering group but remain baffled by the lack of information printed on them. I probably should explain orienteering first. I think the photo below pretty much sums it up however.

Definition

I also contacted the New York State DEC in regards to the ribbons and tags. They had no knowledge of orienteering groups that had been holding events in the state land near the farm. Apparently the group pulls a permit in advance. The DEC quickly became interested in what I had discovered and will be actively looking for answers. I thank everyone at the DEC for getting me connected with the proper individuals! I pledged my assistance in helping them locate the ribbon locations. One officer walked me through placing “drop pins” using Goggle Maps. I chose the satellite map option and easily dropped the pins close enough to the the locations they should find them given the absence of leaves. I was familiar with geocaching so was used to working from satellite maps. Once Zane and I discovered a huge wetland area on a satellite map that we didn’t know existed. We have yet to launch a probing expedition into the area given its gnarly rugged location. Yes I said expedition! It will be a winter snowshoe into unknown territory and must be treated as such with proper preparation. But that’s a different story for a different day.

This was on the internet. No connection to this group is implied or intended.

When I head out for a trek I just never know what I will find! It seems technology is never too far away at anytime. I have no wish to bring anyone under scrutiny for their hobby but orienteering ribbons and tags should be removed after events close out according to the DEC. Also by the basic rules of leave no trace ethnics. But having a campfire in a former campsite location puts me in a similar predicament to be totally honest. Not illegal but certainly leaves a trace. I suppose it’s a fine line to walk and I could easily not even mention the fire. But I felt it pertinent to be honest and forthcoming as I have always promised.

For the moment the mystery has not been solved despite the research. The tags could be totally belong to some other group. Perhaps military or some environmental study group as some suggested. In fact there may be a conspiracy involved. Facts are facts despite what people choose to believe. Remember our furry rodent friend from Quebec Mr. Jangles? He’s been strangely silent for some time now. He still holds a grudge I suspect. I sent him a Xmas card and a block of cheddar cheese but haven’t heard back from him. Tracking indicates that the package was delivered by float plane ahead of the ice up. I believe he has begun a retaliatory mission despite my best efforts to strike up a truce. As of late we have been under attack by rodents at the farm in an unprecedented manner. The bucket traps have been busy and the tractors have been spared damage for the moment. There have been 15 necessary rodent causalities recently unfortunately. They brought the fight to us and we fought back. We granted them sanctuary elsewhere on the farm property but apparently they have refused the offer. Perhaps this sounds as crazy as ever but the facts remain. There is a lake in Western Quebec named Dumoine. There is a cabin 5. There is a mouse named Mr. Jangles with whom we fought an epic series of battles in August this year. There have been 15 rodents eliminated recently at the farm in record time. As for the rest? Form your own opinions. People were asking about Mr. Jangles so I needed to mention him. We are unsure of his present state and we wish him Happy Holidays! I expect we will hear from him again. Until then Happy Holidays to everyone! ✍️

Growth Rings


December is coming in mild after the recent cold snap and snow of November. We got about 14 inches during that lake effect event that reached up into St. Lawrence County. Some parts of New York got record amounts. It was a surprise after the mild weather that we have been enjoying all autumn. I am taking advantage of the bare ground at the farm property to do some forest cleanup in an upper section that was formerly part of our sugarbush. Most of the trees have died off and we harvested heavily in this area a couple years ago. I called this area The Upper Landing. I started burning up the rotten remnants of the large log pile that once occupied the site. The entire area was a mess of downed limbs and miscellaneous debris. I took down a massive dead maple that was a threat to the trail system. It was a sad moment for me. We had tapped this giant many times over the years. It’s gnarly trunk was riddled with old healed tap holes. It fell with an earth shaking crash and exploded into numerous fragmented pieces. I stood for a moment and gazed at the diameter of the stump. The connection was made.

The stump of the felled maple was over 3 feet in diameter. I could only guess at it’s age and it’s rotten outer layers offered no countable growth rings. Not familiar with them? I will explain them quite simply. Growth rings are the marker of tree growth during a one year period in temperate climates. Visible on a tree stump they form a pattern. The lighter outlines represent the start of that season’s growth. The darker outlines represent the end of season growth. They are never identical and a history of a particular season is left there.I can’t remember when my dad first introduced me to growth rings.Sometime when we were cutting wood at the farm most likely. But they have become a glimpse into time and the life of the forest for me. The unfortunate part of growth rings is that you never get to study them until the tree is cut down! Nature leaves us clues there and a place to reflect on ourselves even.

We are just past the two year anniversary of the blog site’s creation. 11/20/20 the first ever post went up. It was titled Bog River Flow. The administrator and creator of this site pulled it from a Facebook post of mine. The rest have followed with no pattern or storyline. Curvy and winding in unsymmetrical circles like the growth rings of a tree stump. It’s been a fun experience and one of learning for me. As I revisit my former posts I look for signs of growth. The blog site hasn’t changed much overall in two years but that’s about to change. I am constantly researching history and fact as they apply to the locations I visit on my personal journey. I continue to search for connection and a better understanding of nature. I am dredging the stories of my life from my memories and saving them here to share. I hope to bring people together in our common love of nature. Each year I hope to show growth however how large or small it might be.
Zane and I were recently in Virginia visited my cousin and his family over Thanksgiving week. My cousin and friend Gerry just happens to be my administrator and creator of this site! He’s the shadow behind all that makes this possible! We are working on upgrading the site and adding a comments section. I hope you will that advantage of that new feature! I will be personally reviewing all comments and would love to hear from you! If you happen to know me feel free to say hello! Look for a subscription page soon where you can receive updates on recent posts and other MOONTABS information.

I ask for your continued patience and support as we work to bring you the best MOONTABS experience ever

November’s Gifts

Our first snow yesterday. It didn’t amount to much though. The day started cool and dark as daylight grows less while autumn advances. It’s that wake-up time when you assess your preparedness for winter if you are a veteran of seasons here in the St. Lawrence valley.It’s coming and small wisps of arctic air sometimes arrive from the north.They herald a time to come but autumn prevails for the moment.

November is a time when beauty in nature can be a little harder to see sometimes. It exists though. It’s a good idea to identify better with our senses then. Five obvious and one not. I feel sound can become more important to recognize as part of the overall outdoor experience once the colorful foliage drops. In the open forest devoid of leaves sound travels far but muffled underfoot when the ground is thick with wet leaves. A brown blanket with life protected underneath that we don’t often notice.Only the oaks have retained their leaves at this point. Brown and lifeless they persist in clinging to the branches. A day of work at the farm property provided special observations yesterday that embody rural heritage and connection.

Mid November finds me playing catch up with a firewood order. It’s been a warm fall and I haven’t felt the drive to work on it. But the cooler days recently have awakened the harvest mentality. Hunter and gatherer? Perhaps.I have been stocking up the warehouse log landing adjacent to the main farm meadow where we put up most of our firewood orders due to its convenience in getting it trucked off the farm. I have focusing on an area I call the upper landing. Once a portion of our sugarbush it’s in tough condition after the 2017 die off. I stockpiled a decent amount of logs there a couple years ago intending to get them cut up last fall. But we had too many other logs down on the warehouse landing ( from other die off) to block up so with the exception of a few I had skidded down fall there was quite a bit of still needing to be salvaged. Maple rots quickly and can’t be left on the ground for too long. Good and bad at the same time. Good for getting the forest rejuvenated but bad for salvaging firewood.The logs of the upper landing are getting questionable in their quality so I decided it was now or never to block them up. I had expended a lot of energy getting them stocked in the first place. They are turning out to be a mixed bag. Some good enough for the firewood order and the rest to be used at Camp Edith or turned into sugar wood. I also turned my attention onto a dead standing maple and a recent blowdown. It’s a never ending challenge to keep up with the aftermath of the die off and wind damage. We do the best we can.

So that’s the background on recent farm property activity. The annual firewood harvest. Known to me as “The Grand Harvest”. I stole the name from a brand of hay baler twine that we used to purchase years ago. I have spent decades of my life and countless hours putting up firewood each autumn. I write of my years of woods craft in my blog series titled “The Run Of The Mill”. Check them out. I try to avoid redundancy here but life follows seasons and I write in the context of present season much of the time. It’s where I live in the now. Powerful and romantic to me in its passage. So the stories follow the seasons. There is a peaceful grounding in following nature through the seasons. I write of it often.

As November advances brown seems to become the predominant color of the forest. The greens of the ground soon to be turned white with snow. It’s time for the other senses to step forward and revel in the moment. Sound especially! Decked out in my hearing protectors I don’t hear much while running the chainsaw on the landing. But when taking a break to refuel the chainsaw I heard a lot of things yesterday. Off in the distance an approaching flock of snow geese. Their southbound flight cries very different then their relatives the Canadian geese.Off in the distance I heard someone else running a chainsaw cutting wood most likely. As the day wound down I heard gunshots from time to time as hunters fired on unknown targets.High powered deer rifles not shotguns I knew from experience. The annual deer rut brings more deer activity to our region and the hunters use it to their advantage. Once an avid hunter I now simply take my gun out for a walk a few times each season. I do target shoot to keep my accuracy honed in just in case that special opportunity presents itself. But that’s a whole different story.

Birds provided much of the sound yesterday. While I was on break a croaking raven announced its presence as it headed to feed on a deer carcass someone had dumped on our property. Ethics run low sometimes in our neck of the woods. On a positive note the dumped deer carcass had drawn in a scavenging bald eagle that was now hanging around the farm. High in the sky above the meadow it glided on large wings and added to an already special day. The many dead maples of the farm have become a woodpecker sanctuary.Their drilling and tapping sounds come from all directions. Down from the ridges the raucous cries of the huge pileated woodpeckers hard at work mix with the tiny downy and hairy ones that hang around the landing. The pileated woodpeckers leave huge piles of chips below their targeted trees. It’s pretty obvious that many of these monster maples must soon topple over given their riddled trunks.On the landing cutting and splitting wood knocks many grubs and insects free from their inside hiding places. Nuthatches and tiny chickadees stay close too. Opportunity is not lost on them and I enjoy their company.

Scents abound on the log landing as well. Chainsaw gas fumes and hot chainsaw bar oil. The sweet odor of maple sap trapped in the salvaged logs of the former sugarbush. Not destined for the sugar house evaporator and sadly lost forever. There’s the scent of muddy tractor tires and diesel fuel. Rotting leaves and dead vegetation. The smell of ripped earth from the skidding of logs. The scent of my worn leather gloves and logger wedge bag strapped to my waist. And then my own scent. Sweat,soap, and challenged deodorant. Let’s not forget the scent of the dumped deer carcass where I found my strayed dog Gracie hard at work gnawing on some rather fragrant morsels.Gag reflex and I don’t have a weak stomach! Passed on lunch at that point! Nature doesn’t leave things around for long. Dead trees, dead flesh, and dead vegetation on its return trip back to the earth. Humbling and comfortable at the same time. Luckily the coyotes had found the deer carcass and eaten most of it in one night after it had sat for a few days. Nothing gets wasted in nature. Something to learn there.

November is always a time of discovery. Personal observation and reflection. My slightly older body these protests the heavy chainsaw by day’s end but obeys my mind’s commands and pushes through. The physical and mental states don’t always want to sync but luckily the mind wins for a time. There’s an energetic drive in the accomplishment of a huge pile of firewood blocks awaiting the wood splitter. The forest a little cleaner and the dead trees serving a purpose. Rural heritage runs strong on such occasions. Decades old and grounded in tradition and a sense of something much more. There is a safe sanctuary in the physical activities of the log landing. True grounding. It’s best not to let the mind wander when the hands are holding a throttled up chainsaw. I think that’s where peace exists sometimes. In simple task and toil. Answering that one would prove difficult to a bystander I suppose. In the use of the hands there is an extension of inner spirit and the feelings of connection to the land itself. Pretty heavy for just doing some firewood.

My body finally called the end of the landing. A look at the fading light over the top of ridge across the meadow spoke of the approaching darkness. I stashed the tractor and the gear in the warehouse then locked the doors on a productive day. I leaned on the car and realized it was silent. Nothing. Just the solid ground under my feet and drifting clouds above. A moment of silent solitude where I was totally alone and enjoying the silent solitude. Tomorrow would come and bring a fresh round of details. But this moment was mine with no distractions. And then it happened. The ringtone came. Not from my phone but high above. Geese in the distance and out of sight. The nighttime chill came on a small north born breeze and what I had predicted in the post called The Special Day washed over me. The rocky soil of the farm property heals and repairs. It always had even when I hadn’t learned to recognize it yet as a younger version of myself. Focus and purpose are reborn and come with silent energy. It’s all connected somehow. The words, the feelings, and the driving pulse of the season. The simplest days of November can be priceless when a brown and seemingly barren landscape is transformed into beauty that can’t be described. It must be lived in the now.✍️

 

 

The Barn Dream

November moves ahead and the weather has been great! Warmer then usual and mostly dry. I have been busy at the farm property preparing for winter. Bush hogging the fallow meadows and preparing to fill a firewood order. I got my neighbor’s old Ford 3400 fixed a couple days ago. We use its three point hitch wood splitter up on the warehouse landing since our Troybilt wood splitter blew its hydraulic cylinder last fall. But firewood wasn’t center stage yesterday. Moving round bales was the task of the day.

I spent yesterday moving the round bales my Uncles had left for me when they cut the hay this summer into the old barn where I store them. It’s a huge structure and its mows hold a lot of hay. In the 1970’s we packed it with over three thousand square bales. There was room in the center area between the mows to store two hay wagons that were piggy backed one on top of the other. That was a challenging task but my father was clever and had devised a safe strategy for accomplishing it each autumn. Kept inside the wooden hay racks of the wagons wouldn’t rot away in the elements. My father liked to keep all the machinery under cover. It made a huge difference to its longevity. Most of our equipment was used to begin with and I call it “tired iron” these days. I wrote of it once. But today’s post is more about the old barn itself.

When I was a boy we housed our cattle and horses in the lower section of the barn.My father did a lot of work converting the barn over into a more modern functioning space. A gutter cleaner was added in the 1970s and a back addition was built to house more livestock. His system worked well to weather the brutally cold winter months. The stored bales in the mows were thrown down wooden chutes known as feed holes. They had sliding wooden doors to help keep the heat in the lower barn where the livestock dwelled from mid November until mid May. The livestock generated huge amounts of body heat and a barn fan with a thermostat controlled the inner space of the lower barn. There was a lot of work involved in keeping the animals fed and their manure removed each day. It’s how I spent a lot of my time as a boy. I liked it most of the time though. It’s a story that I plan to explain in greater detail sometime.

These days I mainly use the stable sections of the barn for storage. It’s gotten rather messy unfortunately. I tried storing firewood in there once but it was much too damp so I abandoned the idea soon after. The timbers in the lower section have been riddled by powder post beetles over the years and need to be replaced. The barn builders made the stable section low so it would heat easier. It’s not a space conducive to being used as a garage ideally. It was designed for livestock. So in our capacity it has limited potential.A plan has been perking in my brain for years about how best to utilize the barn to its fullest possible useful space. We have an idea!

I store most of the round bales in the upper hay mow in the center aisle. Most years there is a surplus of hay left over and we occasionally have some to sell. That’s what we are hoping to do next spring. I got a few bales into the upper hay mow yesterday but quickly ran out of space since it was already quite full still from the previous year. We hadn’t sold any recently. Having reserve hay stored inside is never a bad thing. A wet summer makes it in high demand sometimes. It will last several years when kept dry before losing its freshness. I often marvel at how green a bale of hay appears when feeding it over winter snow! My father had pointed that out many years and it still amazes me with its simple truth. The upper section of the barn stays super dry so it’s a fabulous storage area for more then just hay. I keep some lumber there as well.

If you have ever seen the upper section of a barn then you can probably picture mine. The upper hay mows are huge and the roof peak towers far overhead. The barn was built sometime in the late 1800’s or early 1900’s near as we can tell. My father told me that the original barn that had been on the property had been destroyed by fire accidentally by a young girl. Her parents were sheep farmers and their last name was Howe. I hope to research them sometime and learn more about them. Someone had vision and designed the present barn. It was built when the timber framers still utilized huge hand hewn timbers for the main bents and cross support members. The rafters of our barn were sawn on a sawmill so that dates them to the period we surmise. The reason the mows are so high also dates the barn’s age. It was erected in a time when hay was still put up loose. Balers were not around or were still in early stages of development. There was a track and bale hook system installed just under the peak that was used to get the hay placed into the mows. My father repaired ours and we used it to place round bales for several years. It really put it to the test though as the bales weighed in around 500 pounds. It worked well though but required a team effort to accomplish the task. It’s rope pulley system was powered by a tractor hitched to the main tether. The bales started out in the center aisle just below the trolley which was situated some 25 feet plus above. We had to manually pull the hay hooks down from the trolley and set the hooks into the bale each time we hoisted one. The bales were hoisted by the tractor driving out from the center aisle tightening the rope through the pulley system. This section of a hay mow is often called “ the driveway”. A second rope operated from up in the mow tripped the travel hoist. A third was used to dump the hay hooks. The whole process required focus and timing. I came up with a different system of loading the mows when I was raising beef cattle. I used planks and gravity rolling to load the side mows from the center aisle. This I could do alone. It worked well. Hopefully you can picture the process at this point. Check out the featured image of this post carefully. It shows the hook system partially and will perhaps clarify the apparatus better.

I have spent a lot of time working in the hay mows of our barn over the years and have always admired the framework. The timber framed bents are massive and must have been challenging to place without a crane. If you don’t know anything about timber framing a bent is an assembled structural framework mortise and tenoned together with wooden pins that were hand carved mostly out of hardwood. The bents were assembled on the flat deck of the lower barn structure that had been built first. Talk about a team effort! An assembled bent was very heavy and the joinery needed to be precisely measured to match up. It took skill and experience most certainly. The framers used hemlock for most of the upper structure. I will come back to that shortly. But first a few words about hemlock.

Hemlock. A conifer. It had many uses here in the northeast. It was used by tanneries for its tannic acid properties. It’s still abundant in the Adirondacks but under attack by an invasive species. Different story to share sometime. It’s a strong wood that’s considered a softwood actually. Easier to work into joinery but very heavy. Once our area was heavily forested with hemlock. It was a prized building lumber and most of the forests were cut down here in the St. Lawrence valley. We have no hemlock remaining on our farm property. It only remains in the barn and sheds of the farm now. In the 90’s there was one massive hemlock on our property. It had escaped being cut for some reason. Perhaps the builders had left it to reseed the forest but that hadn’t happened. It died suddenly and we cut it to salvage it. We had expected it to be hollow or a “shake” hemlock. Shake hemlock is the result of wind damage. When sawn it falls apart in the growth rings.Very common to that species. My father taught me how to identify shake logs in case I ever wanted to buy any hemlock. In a shake hemlock the growth rings visible on the butt ends will be gray or black. I learned to read a hemlock log although we seldom got to see many before we started custom sawing with our bandsaw mill in 2006. Our salvaged log surprised us when it’s 36 inch diameter was flawless. We turned it into some wonderful lumber on our mill. Great memories of time learning and working with my father.

The haymows and the upper barn itself were constructed using four bents. There are no cross members connecting the span of the haymows in the center. Instead the framers used four smaller width bents on either side of the haymow driveway. Very cleverly connected with ladders built in two spots. The open design of the center area allowed the hay to be placed with less restrictions. Our barn is very unique in several ways that I haven’t always seen in other barns. The framer’s didn’t utilize queen posts supported by main rafters which in turn would support the secondary rafters. Instead they used one long main rafter on each side using fairly large hand hewn timbers. This design saved time and materials as there was less joinery. They did sacrifice some overall strength I feel with their frugalness. The main rafters appear to be basswood instead of hemlock which isn’t as strong. They have sagged a tiny bit over the years probably due to snow load when the barn was roofed with asphalt shingles. The original roof was cedar shingles. It appears that there are three layers of shingles. One cedar and two asphalt. My father had a metal roof installed by the Amish shortly before his death. I didn’t care for the pitch and height of the roof so declined doing it. The metal roof sheds itself of snow quite readily so snow load is no longer a concern. It comes off like an avalanche on a sunny day! As for my critique of the rafters who am I to judge the framers? What they constructed has stood for over 100 years! Modern barns blow down and collapse all the time these days. The men who stood on those lofty perches and assembled the roof structure were some brave individuals! I wish I had some photos of the build! A frolic the Amish call a barn building when they join together and work on one. It must have quite an undertaking! For some reason the framers did not leave their initials or a date on the walls of our barn. It was a common practice back then. Maybe they didn’t have any of the black ink they typically used. Year’s ago in my custom designed office space in the farmhouse I had a hand hewn post that one of the barn buildings had carved into. It was initialed and dated 1897.Lost to the fire but not my memory.

Our barn is painted red and has some sections of red metal siding. It was last painted sometime in the 90’s by some traveling barn and roof painters.The outer structure of the entire barn was constructed using sawmill sawn lumber. The girts and siding are hemlock as are the secondary rafters. The roof boards as well. The volume of lumber that makes up the barn is mind boggling. I can see why the hemlock was cleared from the land here. The farmhouse that had been constructed near the barn was made of hemlock as well. It was lost to fire in May of 2012. It’s noteworthy to mention that the two stall garage that had sat between the farmhouse and barn had been constructed of pine. It had been constructed in a time when the hemlock was not as readily available anymore. The fast growing white pine of the area was being used more frequently by the 1950’s. The garage was lost in the fire and how the barn was even spared still remains a miracle. The fire crews managed to save it though and we were thankful for that!

The lower section of the barn is a mixed construction of various species. The large mow cross timbers and plinths I suspect are elm. They were often used for that purpose due to the size they once grew here in the valley. It’s difficult to say as the lower section was whitewashed so the grain of the wood is covered. A drill bit could quickly solve that question. The barn builders used timbers called 3/4 rounds to support the haymow floor system. Trees that were flattened on one side only and fitted onto the tops of base top plates on one side. The other end of the 3/4 rounds were set on the top of the cross members. Many of the 3/4 rounds are basswood and the powder post beetles have riddled them extensively. The barn builders left the bark on them unfortunately. It made them more susceptible to the powder post beetles. Some have needed to be replaced. More are in jeopardy of collapse now. It’s important to note that hemlock is not as susceptible to being attacked by powder post beetles for some reason. Hardwood and most other wood seem to attract their destructive habits. The lower section of the barn is still strongly functioning however. The main frame remains sturdy for now. The framing under the haymow driveway is very substantial. It was designed to carry a lot of weight. It will support the weight of tractor and all the bales that I stack on top of it. The barn was built into a side hill to make access to the haymow driveway easier. Also a clever design of the builders and very common to this hilly area. A large stonewall supports the framework of the east side of the barn. We even have an old concrete silo that is 30 feet high. It hasn’t been used in decades except by the pidgins who like to live there. We have to periodically shoot them when they try to invade the haymow. Their droppings are destructive to the hay and sometimes carry diseases.They quickly learn that they are not welcome and fly off to new places.

I have never measured the barn or calculated it’s square footage. There’s a lot of wasted space that has potential to serve a better purpose I feel since we don’t raise livestock anymore. I have often wondered if the old barn could be renovated into a large house after the farmhouse burned. It would be a monumental task of some magnitude. The lower section especially. But what is to become of it otherwise? Since the creation of MOONTABS Creative Expression in 2020 I have pondered it more frequently. Since the sale of Hill House even more frequently. The peaceful setting of the farm is a writer’s ultimate sanctuary. I can envision something when I gaze up into the sturdy framework of the haymows. Where better to write the stories of rural heritage? What better place to leave a legacy? Imagination can overstep the boundaries sometimes. And the budget! But there is a building already standing that could be turned into something grand. Rustic and totally country. I could have the large library I always wanted. I could dedicate a space for my collections of things. The Hoarder Museum I would call it. There’s an even larger plan that I won’t share just yet. We have our sawmill to customize the build out. We have skilled Amish barn builders close by. Heating it would present some challenges that’s for sure. Some of it might require winterizing. The demo process alone is intimidating but totally feasible with time and effort. The biggest challenge besides money is dedicating the time to achieve the goal. Its a planner moment of many aspects and decisions. A series of phases and deadlines. Hmmm… sounds familiar after close to 40 years on construction projects. Zane has expressed some interest in the project but it’s hard to say where he will want to fit in. But it all comes back to the basic structure itself in the end. A standing building with wonderful potential. It’s exciting.Daunting. Crazy. Overwhelming… need I continue? It’s connected to the MOONTABS vision somehow. A fresh start at the farm property possibly. I will keep you posted on our progress! Or lack of it be that the case.

It’s funny the things that show themselves as time passes. Just this week I drove down a road I rarely travel anymore. Years ago there were seven active dairy farms along it. Nice barns and decent homes. I was shocked at the change that time has brought to the property along the road. It’s got an almost post apocalyptic look about it now. Barns fallen in or gone entirely. Houses gone. Replaced by trailers and campers in various condition. Someone continues to cut some of the hay fields fortunately. There is only one actual active farm and it’s not a dairy farm anymore. The scene gave me cause for reflection when I reached my own farm property. No house and no longer an active farm. No dairy since the late 50’s. Most but not all of the hay cut. Rural upstate has changed immensely. I looked at our barn and seriously began to consider its future fate. The farm as well. The barn dream has begun to take on a new meaning since that drive Tuesday. That’s what prompted this story.It’s up to me now to make wise decisions and bring the farm property forward into the future. Its not too late to set a plan into motion.Someone once stood in the forest that once blanketed the land of the farm. They found the artesian well in the main meadow no doubt. They decided that this was the spot to homestead. How many generations worked to clear and improve the land? Picking rocks and piling them where they still lay today. Setting clay tiles and draining the swampy sections. Building a home for their family and living close to the land. As for the barn itself? One can only guess at the cost at building it in those long past days. One can only guess at the manual labor it took. I sometimes try to imagine what the land must have looked like in those days when stands of hemlock stood tall and sturdy on the rocky slopes of the farm. I try to imagine someone standing where the barn now sits and designing the build. It was someone’s dream once to make it happen. To build something that would last. To make a better life for themselves and their family. I think I know how that might of felt. I feel that too when I stand in the meadow by the barn and try to plan for the future. It’s hard to say what happens next. Maybe the answer will show itself to me today. Maybe it already did.✍️