Catching Up

Spring is quickly beginning to feel more like summer recently! Last weeks hot spell was a little much as temperatures hit very close to 90 degrees! The two hottest days just happened to coincide with the two I was working on a construction project at Fort Drum. Brutal and energy sapping is a pretty good description!

Old school mercury thermometer.

There’s been quite a bit of work done around the farm recently. I finished the neighbor’s logs and the rest of my own salvage logs. The timbers that will be used for moving the wood shed are done and waiting to be installed. I got my neighbor’s 3400 Ford tractor started finally and used the wood splitter up on the warehouse landing to split up some of the stack of blocks leftover from last winter. There’s still a lot of work to be done to ever clear the landing. It probably won’t happen until fall now. It’s getting late to be messing around with firewood.

The foxes on Knowlton Farm Road.

Living at Camp Edith is handy given the short drive to the farm. Returning one evening I got to see one fox kit out hunting with one of its parents! Fun to watch before they disappeared into the tall grass. I wrote a funny Facebook post about the foxes allegedly getting my sister’s chickens last summer. I imagined a criminal case where I represented the foxes as their attorney and even a courtroom scene! I should try and copy it and get it onto this page! People found it entertaining and I had a lot of fun writing it!

I spent one Sunday burning a brush pile and cleaning up a huge dead maple across the main meadow next to the Long Narrow meadow. I worked for hours trying to get everything burned up. I also cleaned up a couple of fallen trees that were sticking into the meadows. I hope to connect the two meadows together in time for ease of maintenance and actual haying. There’s quite a few rocks to remove and some rather labor intensive grading to do as well. Getting rid of the big tree was a big improvement to my view as I constantly noticed it and considered it an eyesore. The wood wasn’t worth salvaging so burning was a great alternative. The remains of my fire smoldered for several days but there was no danger of it spreading anywhere.

Cleaning up with fire.

I spent some time later that week ripping up some invasive wild honeysuckle and clearing the trails along the high ground above the gap. The trails had become impassable.Blocked by fallen trees of all sizes it took me awhile to get them open again. I salvaged a porcupine damaged pine tree into a 26 foot long log that I skidded to the landing. I needed it for a project that I planned to do with Zane that Saturday.It was time to further his farm education in a real time practical sense. It involved me teaching him to run the sawmill to create lumber we would need for our project. It doesn’t get anymore practical then that!

Zane learns the basics of sawing.

If you’ve followed my Run Of The Mill posts then you already know much of my history of being an amateur sawyer and woodman. I felt it was time for Zane to become a fourth generation Washburn sawyer. With our new gravity log loader frame and sawmill in place there would never be a better time. We cut the 26 foot pine log into 3 pieces to maximize yield. The taper of a long log can really hurt your yield overall. We settled for a stocky 8 footer,a slim 10 footer, and a very crooked 8 footer from the top of the tree. The goal was simple: fill our small lumber order that we needed for our build that day. We needed 8 foot boards and a few 2×4’s. I helped Zane develop the “cants” that would make that happen. He caught on quickly and learned the saw scale that’s attached to the mill on craft his lumber.He was very proud of his accomplishments and said he truly enjoyed sawing lumber! It was a proud and happy moment for me! After log 3 we were finally caught up with all our saw logs! There was nothing left on the landing.

Focused on log one.

The project where we would use the lumber was behind the sugar house. Years ago we had built a lean-to there to hold 275 gallon bulk storage sap containers. We used them for a few years but once I retired I was always able to keep up with the boiling so we never needed them anymore. Zane and I decided to turn the lean-to into a storage area for all our sap buckets and misc. Once completed with walls and a door we could lock it up. So after framing in the door opening with 2×4’s we had just sawn, we sided it with the boards we had also just sawn. It was a good lesson for Zane and he was thrilled that we had made the lumber we needed to get our small job done!

Framing in the storage lean-to.

The final thing we needed was a door. I had told Zane that we would repurpose the single door that was on my Father’s old woodshed when we were building our rough opening for the lean-to door. We would also salvage its roller track runner. No hinges would be needed. The upcoming woodshed improvements phase out the old single door so it would live on in a new location. Everything went well and we closed out the day at that point.All we needed was a hasp and lock to finish the job.

The rustic looking repurposed door.

While we were at the sugar house I could hear the phoebes in the trees nearby. I went inside to check on the nest and there were 4 baby birds inside.The phoebe nests in this spot every spring.Pretty neat to know that the sugar house provides a safe nesting location for the birds!

Phoebe babes.

Since then it’s been all about doing some work for our friend as a side project and getting back onto the commercial job site at Fort Drum last week. Zane and I cut up all the slab wood from the saw logs Saturday. It’s now inside drying out for next sugaring season. Along with some odds and ends I managed to get done. Little by little it will add up although we will probably end up needed to cut more next fall. This is going to be a busy summer. We started our next project late Saturday afternoon. It’s a challenging one! The moving of the old woodshed to a new location in the sugarbush. It all started with cleanup of old bark that covered a big section of its floor. Shoveled into the tractor’s loader bucket it was easy to dump onto a future burn pile. Sections of the floor were rotted so they were added to the burn pile as well. Next we began jacking up the structure and blocking it in place. That’s where we left off by Saturday night. Much more to do!

It’s not as bad as it looks!

Saving the woodshed is not a new idea for me. Three summers ago I brought power to it as well as our recovered underground water line that goes out to the old spring. I had planned to convert the building into a combination bath house,laundry, and kitchen area. But the feasibility of the build was not really sensible.But I had no desire to tear down the woodshed as it was basically sound except for the floor aand foundation.Not to mention my Father had built it so I wanted to preserve it. Having a woodshed is handy and functional at the farm property. We use the old granary for a woodshed at the moment. The bath house project will be revealed once we begin on it.For now we will focus on getting the woodshed moved. Watch for it!

Jacking it up with a “Bulldog” farm Jack. 8000 lb capacity.

So this sort of catches you up to our recent activities! There’s no exciting adventures or mountain hikes. No camping or fishing. Just hours of tedious manual labor that will eventually usher in a new chapter of farm living. It will see the completion of the camper hookup site. Winter bathroom facilities and much more. But we’ve taken time to enjoy morel hunting. Cooking meals and desserts at Camp Edith. Day to day details of the sort that most of us engage in. I have been reading more and have watched no Tv here at camp. I took the time to do a little maintenance mowing with the bush hog at the farm as well. There’s always something to and something to fix. That’s the price of owning buildings and property. But Zane’s excited at our new progress and where it’s all headed. Follow our projects and don’t worry! There’s plenty of upcoming adventures planned. Upgrading the farm property is long overdue so it’s time!

Mowing on the hill.

The Thrill Of The Mill

We are just warming up again today after a cold snap of several days where the wind stayed in the north. I had to bring additional firewood from the farm twice to make Camp Edith warm enough to stay here. Wednesday night the temperatures dropped to 30 degrees! Pretty chilly for mid May.Fortunately we always seem to have an abundance of firewood to choose from at the farm. Up on the warehouse landing there was a nice selection of split mixed lengths and sizes. It was a good time to use up some of that mixed collection as I am hoping to clean up the landing later this year. It’s gotten rather messy. So I brought back smalls,weirds,and low grade pieces we call devil’s rejects. Weirds are quite simply odd shaped chunks that don’t stack well. Smalls are short chunks. Funny how we have our own lingo for firewood!

The warehouse landing last fall.

I recently got back to work on a project that Zane and I started almost two years ago. The side hill just below the log landing was a perfect location to build a gravity log loading platform for the sawmill. First I brought in some sandy roadside dirt the town had given me to level the sawmill site. Then I dragged up an old power pole that the power company had abandoned behind the barn to construct the main runner of the log loader system. I attached one end to a huge hickory tree as an anchor point and built piers out of cement blocks for the other supports. I even utilized a tree stump that I had saved for one of the supports. It should last for quite a few years hopefully.

The main runner.

I then backed the sawmill up parallel to the main runner and lifted it to remove the wheels that make it portable. I got it all leveled into place eventually and stationary on its six posts. This is tricky when working alone but I used the tractor’s loader for the heavy work. A small hydraulic bottle jack works well for fine tuning and leveling. I was making progress and quit for the day after spending several hours to reach that point.

The power of hydraulics and rigging.

The next step involved skidding in another salvaged power pole that would be sawn into planks for the perpendicular runners.Shorter five feet long 3×4’s would be sawn for the removal planks that enable the logs to be rolled onto the mill. I modeled my design after the one my father and I had built years ago at another property. In time we had added a building over top of the sawmill there and it was a nice set up to work under rain or shine! Not to mention a nice place to store the mill under cover. But before I could saw I needed to get the mill running as it has sat idle since last summer. I had bought a new sale priced battery so that was a plus. While connecting the battery I noticed that the squirrels had been chewing on some of the wiring and had chewed a small hole in the gas tank! Damn rodents and their destructive habit of chewing everything. I taped up the damaged wires as best I could. I then choked the engine and turned the key. The mill started almost immediately! I warmed it up some before ramping it up to full throttle. What a sweet noise and things were going well! I did notice some organic debris flying out of the engine compartment and fished a few pieces out but saw nothing to concern me. I managed to get all the planks sawed out from the salvaged power poles before stopping again for the day.

Sawing the planks.

The next time I was at the farm I got the planks in place but lacked the 6” nails I needed to secure them. Not concerned I rolled a log onto the mill and got started with the making of my neighbor’s lumber. I did a second log but started being harassed by a bumblebee who seemed intent on getting inside the engine compartment. I soon learned that there was a nest inside and although only one bee was after me I could hear others inside buzzing away. The engine smelled a little hot also. It was time to rethink the whole situation. I built a crib to stack the lumber on to get it “stickered” up so it would dry properly. Lumber stacked on lumber will mold and a stain known as gray rot will discolor the lumber. Ants also love to occupy us stickered lumber piles. The crib took a little time to build but not knowing when my neighbor was planning on using the lumber it drove my decision to build it.

The cribbed lumber on 1×1 stickers.This was day two of sawing lumber.

The cool morning Thursday prompted me to dissemble the sawmill engine compartment. Easy with a socket set as there were only 8 bolts to remove. The bumblebees were silent so that was a plus. Upon removing the engine compartment shroud I discovered a large bees nest! I pulled most of it out in one piece and the bees began to buzz in earnest! I tossed it onto the ground and gave it a good stomping. Next I lit it on fire with my blowtorch. Mission accomplished! I finished cleaning out the remainder of the nest being sure to burn it as well. I also found a separate mouse nest that I removed and added to the smoldering honeycomb from the bees nest. Inside the engine compartment I found more chewed wires that I taped up. I reassembled the engine compartment after doing a thorough cleaning and inspection. Now I could actually start sawing again. Delays like this are quite often a daily occurrence around the farm so it’s best to just shrug it off and move forward. Nature sure does challenge all we create!

Bumblebee invasion!
Mouse invasion!

I quickly settled into sawing logs after that. I had fastened the planks down on Wednesday having purchased some 6” spikes from a local lumber yard. The gravity log loader system was a success and I used the tractor to set up the row of logs that would be rolled forward onto the mill. I was feeling pretty good at this point and glad that things were going smoothly. The mill was running smoothly and I lost myself to the task at hand to the roar of the 25 horsepower Robins Subaru engine. My hearing protection is a necessity as is eye protection. The slab wood was tossed over onto the tractor loader forks so it could easily be transported to outside the sugar house a short distance away. The plan had finally come together! Everything was in place to work quickly and efficiently. I lacked but one thing: a tailer. A tailer handles the slab wood and the finished lumber so the sawyer can keep the mill cranked up and making lumber. Zane will soon be working as my tailer and as my apprentice sawyer. He wants to learn the craft of making lumber. I often think of sawing lumber as creating and I will explain shortly.

Slab wood headed to the sugar house pile to be cut up later.

By late afternoon I was beginning to feel glimmers of fatigue. Our saw mill is very manual. It uses hydraulics for the blade tensioner only. Everything else gets done by hand. Rolling the logs on is done manually. Rotating the logs also manual. Manual raising and lowering head blocks. Head blocks hold the logs in place and must be adjusted several times while sawing a log. The log leveler rollers are also manual. As are the “dogs”. The dogs hold the log or cant firmly so it can’t move around. The high speed blade can easily break if a log gets loose. As for the “head” itself it consists of a frame, the engine, belts, pulleys,debark wheel, and the measurement gauge. Our mill uses a wheel and track head system to feed the blade into the log. The operator manually controls the feed rate by pushing the head assembly forward. It’s a very effective way to control cuts and minimize making poor lumber. There’s all sorts of further information about the mill itself but I feel that readers might find it boring. Suffice it to say that the Brubacher saw mill designers really put some thought into this small, portable band saw mill! Perhaps a instructional video some day might be in order!

A small white pine cant that just made 10 2×6’s. Note the track system that the head assembly rides along.

Making lumber is a wonderful workout for the upper body! The legs get some walking in but the upper body really does the most work. I like the bullish nature of such things and my mind will detour from worrisome meandering as I focus on the task at hand. There’s plenty of opportunities for injury so focus is a good word truly.As for the logs themselves they are truly unique. Tapered and sometimes crooked. The sawyer must read the log to make the most lumber from it. Mistakes are final in regards to dimensions as well after a cut is made. I was a little rusty at first but my mind soon entered the zone of kerfs and scales. The bandsaw blade makes an 1/8th inch cut each time. Kerf it’s called. The scale rule on the head allows for that kerf automatically as it’s built into the scale. Random cuts though involve adding the kerf to each measurement. Forget the kerf and the sawyer makes inferior non dimensional lumber. It’s easy once you train your mind to the process.Working in 1/8th increments isn’t too difficult after all.

The logs headed towards the mill on the gravity log loader. The short planks span the final 5 feet. Removed once a log is rolled onto the mill.

Getting set up finally on the farm for log sawing is a great accomplishment for me! Our location should provide years of efficient and save sawing. Of course I now have been thinking about a saw mill building to cover the location similar to the one we once had at our former home several miles away. Oh what a location that was! Acres upon acres of white pine to cull and utilize. But life happened and we moved to the farm property after our father’s unexpected death. We couldn’t hold all the property. Simple finances ruled the moment. That story is blended into these blog pages here and there. Perhaps redundant but redundancy can represent the importance of certain things I feel provided it’s not over done. It’s all connected this journey of mine regardless of where you jump into the stories. Backwards,forwards, and in the present. One event linked to another in a chain of events. Nature always near the forefront. Rural heritage learned and shared as it should be. It is a story of blood,sweat, and tears. Ordinary that sometimes becomes extraordinary. I don’t always know where the journey leads or what exactly comes next. I do know that when I embrace the push bar of the sawmill and crack the throttle I will be rewarded with fragrant sawdust in tune with a racing saw blade while the engine roars with powerful purpose. I’ve spent hours locked in these moments and the memories play like movies from the past. It’s never just sawing lumber. It is something far greater. For what limits what could be built or created with such a useful piece of machinery? What might rise on the farm property that could insure its legacy and that of mere individuals? As too why are we even sawing logs for our neighbor? That’s entirely another story. Yet to be told as it’s not finished. And time passes with every season and a sense of urgency sometimes stirs up the spirit energy. Not going there tonight.✍️

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.✍️

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!

Up The Creek

January is moving along and the mild weather continues to surprise everyone. It hasn’t made for great ice walking but I have managed to get a little in despite of it.If you are new to the blog perhaps a journey back to a former post of mine might enlighten you as to the nature of ice walking. It is titled “Tales Of An Icewalker: Origins. I introduce myself there as The Icewalker. I learned many years ago the ease of travel on the flat frozen waterways that form each winter here in the St. Lawrence valley. This story is about a recent trip on Beaver Creek we took where I continue to teach my son Zane the beauty and perils of ice walking. Better to learn from the journeyman when you are an inexperienced apprentice. It turned into quite the adventure!

The section of Beaver Creek above the Lead Mine Road. Known to us as “up the creek”.

I decided to try the ice of Beaver Creek after we had experienced a couple cold nights right after the recent thaw. We had spent Saturday doing firewood and had returned the hauling trailer to the farm after unloading it Sunday morning at our customers house. I felt like doing something fun with Zane and suggested a hike down on Beaver Creek. Big Beaver we call it as too not get it confused with the nearby creek known as Little Beaver. Zane was eager to go and ready for the adventure. I mentioned that we would need beaver stick walking sticks if we were going to attempt to ice walk. We had some in the truck that were already shaped and had been used several times. Not to worry though as one of our hoarder sheds at the farm has dozens more if we were caught short. They would have needed work however and we had no time for that. It’s a job best suited for a workshop bench with plenty of tools on hand and heat. I miss the area we had at Hill House in the heated garage at those times. I chose to take two beaver sticks for the trek. Zane opted for none. But he has a lot to learn yet and would soon realize his mistake. Ice walking is a school of hard knocks. Zane did decide to bring along a propane torch though in case we needed a fire. Never a bad decision when ice walking but the trick is to keep your fire making tools dry! I mentioned to Zane that we weren’t properly equipped but given the short duration of our hike I wasn’t concerned. Plus there were two of us. An icewalker alone should always be prepared. I think it was starting to sink in with him. Maybe sink is a poor word when preparing to walk the ice!🤔

Beaver sticks in the rough. Trimming and sanding brings them to perfection!

We headed out behind our barn at the farm as I wanted to check a section of forest where we had harvested the older damaged trees some ten years ago. This would bring us to the very edge of the creek wetlands once we descended the ridge.The new growth was impressive to say the least. A mixed bag of hickory,maple, and some red oak. Our search of the forest also revealed huge amounts of invasive wild honeysuckles. They were overtaking the former open sections of the pasture at the edge of the forest. Bad news for the two of us hiking when we tried to force our way through them. We followed the edge of the wetland until we reached a section of pasture that we have begun to maintain. We had cleared it of dozens of the invasive shrubs a couple years back. It was easy hiking there as it’s relatively flat also. It soon became obvious that there was a lot of fresh beaver activity in the pasture.A maintained dam that bridged the wetland as well. It wasn’t a new location for a dam. There’s been beaver dams in that location over the years. It’s quite the feat that the beaver achieved damming the entire wetland gorge. The original creek channel is barely visible anymore. As dams go it’s not very high but the water it holds back extends far up the creek.

Open water around the beaver lodge.

I knew from experience that we would have trouble accessing the ice of the main creek because of several springs that pepper the north side of the wetlands. They flow from underground at the base of the steep ridge that sits above the gorge. There’s about 5 of them in a mile stretch of the wetland.Even in the coldest of winters it’s a tricky area to venture out onto the ice. Zane and I explored the beaver activity and noticed signs of muskrats as well. I explained to Zane that this area had changed a lot over the years.It was decided that we would need to use the beaver dam to get out to the thicker ice where we wanted to hike. We struggled through more of the thick, choking wild honeysuckle while getting to the dam. Once we traveled the dam for a short distance we were able to access the ice. I used my beaver sticks to pound on the ice to check it for thickness before I stepped off the dam. Zane took a different approach and just jumped out in a nibble sliding motion. He’s much lighter then me so had less reason to worry. Out on the ice of the main pond the ice was gray and thicker. But as I pointed out to Zane there were numerous black sections that we needed to avoid. We needed more cold weather to truly freeze this swamp. I told Zane about the soft maple forest that had been here years ago.The original beaver dam flooded them and they all died. They stood for years like dry barren stalks before falling into the marsh and disappearing. I also to Zane that we owned some landlocked property in this area. About 4.4 acres that weren’t well marked. I knew there was an old fence that marked one boundary but the South shoreline was also choked with wild honeysuckle. We decided to search for it some other time.

The thin ice along the dam.

We picked our way through the grassy bogs and avoided numerous weak spots in the ice. Lucky for us there was no snow on the ice. Otherwise I mentioned to Zane that I wouldn’t even be out there. It’s not deep water in most of the wetland but I pointed out the main channel sections where falling through wouldn’t be a good idea. We made it up the ice quite a distance before it became impassable. The wetland continues for another half a mile or so before narrowing down to a much smaller channel. Beaver Creek dumps into this section after going over an impressive small set of waterfalls. It was getting late and I mentioned to Zane that we wouldn’t be able to trek up further until the ice conditions improved. We had ventured past our property boundary also we were technically trespassing although the land wasn’t posted by the owners. We began searching for a way off the ice along the North shore but it began to look impossible. The 5th spring upstream and beaver activity was keeping the shoreline open with no ice to cross. We tried getting close to shore in a couple spots but it was futile. Zane suggested going back to our original point of entry and I acknowledged that possibility. But I decided to try a different approach first. We headed toward the 4th spring where I knew an old beaver dam intercepted. We reached the closest to shore that we had ever been but saw nothing but open water. I suddenly decided it was “bog hop”or bust. I started leaping from one clump of tag alder to the next. Sometimes I had to bend one down to reach the next clump. It was a winding and wavering course across the open water. Zane was trying to follow but haven’t some trouble. I almost pitched in headfirst at one point while balancing on a bending limb. Zane and I got to laughing at that moment! The whole thing got funnier when Gracie the dog broke through some thin ice trying to get to us. It was inevitable that someone would get wet I suppose. Zane and I both ended up going in over our boots. What a trip! I shot a funny video of Zane calling him an aspiring Icewalker. I didn’t think about my cold wet feet after that. I was lost to the happy moment!

The land beyond where we will return with good ice.
The leap of faith for the bog hopper!

The beaver feeding activity along the shore was impressive! They were taking advantage of the underground spring runoff and the recent thaw to work the shoreline for food. Lots of chewed branches and fallen trees. The invasive honeysuckle would once again plague our forward progress as we headed back towards our open pasture land.

Gracie falls in!

As we trekked back to the truck we laughed about our exploits. The road up from the wetland took us up the steep ridge and gave us some late day views of it. We could retrace our recent steps far above the marsh. I told Zane stories of my years of exploring “up the creek”. It’s a place of ever changing events. Vanished forests and invasive species. Wildlife in constant motion surviving the rigors of a northern New York winter. It’s a beautiful place for a new generation Icewalker to get his feet wet literally. It had been an epic trek for us. We are waiting now for the cold weather to seal the wetland shut under a layer of thick ice. We will return to explore up the creek sometime before spring I hope. I want to show Zane the “Big Spring”. Number 5 I called it. It’s impressive in itself. But I want to show him more out there on the ice. There’s fast travel out from brushy shores and rocky forest ridges. Ice walking on the big creek has its risks but the benefits outweigh those risks I feel. Be prepared for anything. It’s easy to fall through I’ve learned. Now it’s time to teach Zane the way of an Icewalker. Beaver Creek is a beautiful and magical place for me. I will always want to trek its frozen surface. For now we wait for the big freeze. ✍️

Busy beaver.

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! ✍️

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.✍️