The Push

It’s been awhile since I took the time to write here. Things have changed dramatically in the past few weeks in several ways. Work has continued to dominate my schedule as the September 15th cutoff for my employment was extended until October 31st.This has brought both pros and cons into play most certainly.Too say that the past several weeks have been a blur is true and accurate. There’s been a lot of progress made though. Both on the methane project where I have been working and at home.One of the biggest accomplishments has been helping get all the haying done! I stepped up and began mowing for my Uncles on September 10th shortly after my last post.This continued until Friday September 20th pretty much every day except Sunday. I mowed the last of their big hay fields that hadn’t gotten done this summer then moved down to my own farm. We enjoyed a nice stretch of hot,dry weather that was perfect for September haying. I would mow until dark after work which would take me to about 7:30 pm then return to Camp Edith for dinner and a shower. Those were some long days!

Laying it down.

It was great seeing the haying finally getting done at my farm.Not so different then last year but this time it was all round bales. With my work schedule there was no time for loads of square bales. Once my fields were done I mowed second cut at my Uncles place most of the final week.We did a lot in 10 days considering it was just Uncle Art and me. My other Uncle was recovering from surgery. I found myself enjoying the mowing. I saw deer,ravens,and hawks most nights as I mowed. Some of the sunsets were spectacular and I even got to see a wonderful moonrise a couple evenings. The scent of freshly mown hay was rather intoxicating at times. There was a feeling of accomplishment that carried me through my fatigue when I needed that final burst of energy most days.

My farm is down! All mowed!Raking underway.

Meanwhile on the methane project the farmer was busy harvesting and piling corn for silage. An operation of mammoth proportions. The corn silage trucks rolled with dusty succession all day every day. I named the corn silage pile “Corn Mountain”. The hundreds of acres of standing corn began to disappear and all that remained were rows of stubble. We were busy as well there. Placing conduit into the ground for our power and control systems. It was a hot period of September weather that was much different then what October would bring.

Corn Mountain.

The Monday after my final night of mowing, the project went onto 10 hour work days. I wasn’t thrilled with this and worked as much as I could but never any Saturdays.We took off to the Adirondacks recently for a weekend away to the Indian Lake area for hiking and paddling.Luckily the weather cooperated and we had a nice time. I had hoped to see some beaver to video one evening but they remained elusive and the coming darkness would force us to leave the flow we were paddling. We had spent some of that day on a hike and saved our paddling for the afternoon. We discovered a creek that dumped into the flow and followed it until a beaver dam forced us to stop. It was fragrant and tranquil! The scent of balsam permeated the creek bed and it was rather awesome up in there! Except for the biting flies! They look like house flies and they bite hard! I used my handkerchief as a fly swatter and soon the bottom of the canoe was littered with their broken bodies. It felt good to take the hunt to them at that point seeing as they had cut our beach picnic time short!The sun began to cast shadows over the mountains and although the leaves weren’t at peak color it was stunningly beautiful! The sun was warm and it was very pleasant paddling. A true battery charging moment to enjoy after a busy work week. But change was waiting for me and I didn’t realize it then. Perhaps it’s best not to know some things in advance lest the moment be tarnished and become bittersweet. It was Saturday and there was still one day to enjoy before the new work week began. Retirement is a gift and returning to work continues to remind me of that. But this year’s work was serving a higher purpose. The endless need for cash flow never ceases that’s for sure. So sometimes small sacrifices pay big dividends. It’s not that bad after all. I do enjoy my work most days.

The stream off the flow.

So here it is October 13th. We are still living at Camp Edith after installing a new pump to deliver lake water to us. Our other water source had to be disconnected a few weeks back and we were not ready to move back to the Homestead just yet. After a few minor glitches which were rather maddening given the schedule the water system is performing well. We always have the option of using the shower and bathroom at the farm fortunately. We have been making cider over there after work at night. It’s a good time to get laundry caught up! Zane brought in 15 bags of apples and I can’t say for sure how much cider we pressed but it’s quite a bit! Some went into the freezer but he’s fermenting some also for hard cider. It’s nice to see him in touch with his rural heritage. Not to mention all the pumpkins he grew to give away. What a kid! 19 and still very much a boy at times. Reminds me of someone!

Pumpkin patch at the Homestead.

It’s Sunday night again and Monday morning looms some 10 hours away. We are cozy and warm here with a nice supply of firewood on hand finally. Yesterday’s power outage that lasted almost 24 hours is behind us. Nothing some generator hook up couldn’t solve although my schedule got thrown aside. Being able to adapt quickly has its advantages at times. Life is changing fast it seems. This has been a most turbulent year at times. But it has also been filled with moments of discovery and happiness. Passion and adventure. And crushing moments of painful indecision and sadness. How best to proceed becomes a most perplexing question for me as autumn grabs hold of the north country. Where am I going and what waits for me next? November 1st will be a new chapter where my work on the methane project will be behind me. Time will be short as Homestead projects move to the top of the priority list. Daylight is waning now as we move to the next solstice. And frost will grip the land once again slowing us down at times. I hope to begin to write here more frequently and with more meaningful content. I am tired quite honestly. My spirit energy has also waned somewhat. But my schedule was self imposed and my decision. And I must see my commitment to the project through as I promised. But did I break other promises in the midst of the blur? It weighs heavy at times but days of autumn remain and there is still time. And we are fortune here in the upstate region to be spared the ravages of the hurricanes and flooding that have battered the south recently. My challenges and concerns seem petty by comparison. So I remain grateful and humble I hope. MOONTABS are being made. It is enough.✍️

On the digester cover!

Maple Syrup 2024: Pre-Launch

It’s funny how things that might have been the focus of my recent anxiety can quickly disappear.When I last posted I was preparing to hike St.Regis Mountain with a couple friends but was a little hung up on the upcoming syrup season. The hike and the good company of my friends would shake off the ghosts that day! We had an excellent time and the rain would hold off until we had finished our trek! It was super windy at the top and scary up in the fire tower! It’s a hike worthy of its own post really!

Power trio!

As for the remainder of my time in Saranac Lake it too is worthy of its own post sometime! Certain things were happening in a strange twist of fate and my response to the moment and the energy would place me in a flow that was totally unexpected. I spent a cold Thursday at an event at the Wild Center in Tupper Lake. I truly enjoyed my company and walking around touring the facility. At the trout tank I had an interesting photo moment! There is a story coming that I will title: What The Fish Told Me.”I left for the valley on Friday March 1st with fully recharged mental batteries.Ready to tackle my problems and my hesitation about sugaring . March 1st is a tapping day typically but conditions were less then favorable. I wiped out miscellaneous details and got settled back into the cabin. Saturday was spent troubleshooting the tractor coolant issue. I found the problem quickly! A burst bypass hose on the new water pump. We had suspected it was pretty worn but the blowout confirmed it. I got online and ordered one. To date it still hasn’t arrived! Regardless I decided to set taps on Sunday and began hanging out buckets alone. I was using the Honda side by side in place of the down tractor and it worked out well. It was pretty warm which made for comfortable tapping but didn’t thrill me with the fact that there were several super warm days coming. By days end I was way up to my neighbor’s property and had hung 150 buckets by myself! A start and a commitment.

This trout had advice for me!

Monday would find me tapping more with my friend Gary helping out. Tapping trees and sugaring in general was all new to him but he was totally enjoying himself! He’s very in tune with nature and finds the landscapes of Macomb fascinating. The two of us did well setting in buckets and mini tube runs up across the neighbor’s property on a string we call the “Great Northern Loop”. It’s a productive string typically and we had invested some time into building the tubing runs last year. Less buckets means easier gathers. The mini tube runs are removed after the season ends,labeled,washed, and stored away.We did a few buckets also close to the trail. We stopped for a hearty lunch of venison stew that I made with meat Gary had given me. Yum!.Afternoon would find us setting buckets and mini tube runs on the “Southern Loop” on my neighbor’s property. We had a decent day and got out 94 taps bringing the count to 244.Zane helped me get the storage tank in place in the sugar house that evening. We also had to get the evaporator pans in place plus the various pipes for the flow systems. Progress was being made and quickly!

The crude map of the different strings.

Tuesday would Gary and I tapping on a section of my farm called the land. Buckets and mini tube runs on some big maples that survived the 2016/2017 tent worm/drought events. We also hung more buckets in miscellaneous locations along the string. The buckets that I had set Sunday had begun to fill with sap even though I considered the weather against it flowing. We used the side by side and plastic totes to do a sap gather that brought in over 100 gallons of clear sap! Not a bad start really as it was very warm! On Wednesday I went for groceries and fuel plus miscellaneous items needed for the week. I had contacted my tractor dealer Monday and had the hose I needed for the tractor expedited to their location where I picked it up. I tapped two big maples behind the barn that run mega amounts of sap most years. So with those 8 taps the count was at 358. A good number but the sap was not moving much still. I went under the lights and replaced the bad water pump bypass hose. I then proceeded to flush the coolant system with vinegar per Mike The Mechanics recommendation. It appeared that my tractor repair was successful! I went to bed rather beat but feeling like things were coming together.

Gary with a nice haul Tuesday!

Thursday would see my good friend Patrick Bourcy helping me set more taps! Remember him? He’s the creator of the Facebook group Just Go Outside and shows up in many of my blog posts. We did a variety of buckets on the growing string and mini tube taps on the ridge called Green Mountain. Our count for the day was 146 bringing our grand total to 504 taps. We were in a good place and as I stood on the top of Green Mountain a stiff cool breeze from the north would boost my spirits even further. A frost was coming that night and with all the good fresh taps we had a shot at a decent sap run! The work might just pay off!

On Green Mountain setting mini tubes.

And just like things began to change for me! Gone was the decision whether we should tap at all! We had! Gone was the anxiety about the tractor issues. It was fixed! Sure it had other issues but it was useable! I felt a rising energy within myself. Sure there was still plenty that could go wrong but we were trying to have a sugaring season and that meant everything! It didn’t matter now how things turned out. The weather was out of our control but the long range forecast was somewhat encouraging.Things were beginning to ramp up and what I was feeling was nothing new. Pre-launch is a “sit on the edge of your seat moment” like no other. A time when you question why you weren’t better prepared and ready. But such thoughts don’t help out at all. It’s best to just keep moving forward! So we will!And we do! Each and every year as our annual hobby arrives on the tail end of winter. Albeit a strange winter this year but there’s no changing that. We will make the best of everything and do our best. It’s a simple place of stubborn perseverance and resolve. The MOONTABS will tally up and we no doubt experience a most unique sugaring season. But it will not have been missed or canceled. That would be somehow wrong to me. After all someone once said: there are but a finite number of syrup seasons in a person’s lifetime. Who would write such a serious but truthful quote? Someone who values life and rural heritage perhaps. Someone who loves their hobby with a passion that borders on madness. Someone who loves to create things. Someone who knows that sugaring drives the hands and engages all 5 senses and the 6th as well. I think you know who wrote the quote. The inner voices whisper at times and fuel the inner spirit. The farm property is a place of grounding and connection. The world begs explorations and adventures but I will always be drawn back to the dripping sap drops that follow frosty nights. There is a place of blissful happiness there. But first we must launch! Things are headed in that direction. More so each day now. It is enough.✍️

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.✍️

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.✍️

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.✍️

The Loon Family

We are approaching the middle of October and the transition continues with an increasing pace. I continue to camp here at Fish Creek and will most likely return to the valley a day early. This is it for my ADK camping season in the Airstream for 2022. Zane and I will no doubt be returning to the Adirondacks at some point but it’s unclear just when. So many wonderful experiences are filling my days and nights these days. Somehow the energy tells me where to place myself and nature does the rest. How best to explain these occurrences may challenge me to a degree. But I enjoy challenge and searching for answers. I have studied nature my entire life but can’t begin to answer the question so many ask. What is the meaning of life? To me it is a cycle. The meaning belongs for each individual to decide and is uniquely theirs. As for me, I need but follow the seasons to find what defines life. I have arrived to a new and exciting season of my life. Autumn. A time I hope to be my most colorful. A time to show colors that were always just below the surface. It would take the approach of autumn before they would begin to show. Autumn is a time of great expression in nature. A time of new life being created in some species. A time when things prepare to slow down for a slumber of sorts. I feel these things and gracefully accept the truths as nature offers them.But such thoughts take us far from the stories and to the edge of the forest lands of Tazmania.

Last week I spent a wonderful afternoon paddling up Fish Creek beyond my campsite. It’s a favorite destination of mine and I also used the opportunity to collect some old beaver sticks for firewood. The shorelines are well stocked in certain spots with the remnants of beaver feed piles. Once they have dried out they are excellent firewood! It’s important to note that tampering with a beaver house or dam is illegal. Be careful where you gather your sticks! The loose piles along the ponds and streams are legal pickings for savvy collectors! Just how the sticks are produced is interesting. The beaver cut small trees and saplings then drag them into shallow flat spots onto the banks. There they can gnaw the bark from them in relative safety. They leave the peeled portions behind as a type of garbage I guess you could say. Sometimes they have feed piles out on the spongy bogs where they enjoy their meals in complete safety. The peeled sticks often end up being used to build dams and lodges so they do serve an alternative purpose.The beaver have few predators here in the Adirondacks but a hungry coyote or larger bobcat could possibly kill one. I have seen pictures of some that were crushed by trees they were cutting! That’s rare though. People are their main predator when fur prices make their plush pelts in demand. Luckily for the beaver, pelt prices are very low these days. I used to trap them a lot years ago in Macomb. Other animals as well. I longer trap but remain true to my rural heritage and mention it here. It was something I was taught and a skill passed down between generations. I was a proud and successful trapper for some 30 plus years. I feel to never write about it is a falsehood as trapping taught me many things about nature. It kept me outside and always wandering. It is as much a part of me as anything else connected to nature. I must write of being a fur trapper, hunter, and fisherman on these pages or forever be false in my life journey story. That I can not do my friends. The truth is the truth and I will not abandon it here at any cost.

I hadn’t traveled too far upstream and had already procured a nice collection of beaver stick firewood. It serves a second purpose as well. One I call beaver stick ballast. The front of my canoe is very light if I don’t have weight,a person, or dog there. When alone adding firewood weight to the front aids in controlling the bow especially if it’s windy. It’s a time tested approach to paddling that I often employ while camping. Otherwise I use smooth rocks and small cobblestones. I traveled leisurely up the creek and soon entered one of the narrower sections. I call them the connectors. There were numerous photo opportunities and I got some great shots there. I ducked into Copperas Pond for a moment searching for the loon family I had written about last July. The pond was deserted and eerily quiet. Few birds although I had encountered several ducks that were totally fearless. They must have been campsite ducks to be that tame. Fun to watch as they stood on a log in the sun preening their shiny feathers. I missed the calls of my forest friends the white throated sparrows. They always remind me of the bush country in Eastern Quebec. They are very plentiful there and you hear their signature calls from daylight to dark.The forest had become absent of summer birdsongs. The transition was truly ramping up!

I entered the mouth of a small lake that’s called Little Square Pond. I typically pass by most of it unless we decide to swim off some rocks near the entrance. It’s a fairly big pond and susceptible to waves if the wind is blowing. It was totally calm that day though and I decided to explore it further. I was looking for fresh beaver sticks that would make good trekking poles but hadn’t found any yet. The beaver sign was strangely absent. Most of what I was seeing was old and beginning to weather severely as it began to rot. I kept wondering what had happened to the beaver population here? Trappers? Disease? Or just a move to better food sources? The beaver do exhaust their forest habitats near their chosen waterways. It was going to be slim pickings for beaver sticks! I began to paddle the Western side of the pond’s shoreline exploring. I saw plenty of old beaver sign but nothing fresh and no active lodges. The shoreline was steep in places and heavily forested. I found a primitive campsite that I hadn’t known existed and made a mental note of it. I continued paddling around the pond enjoying the colorful leaves and loving the warm sunshine! As I began paddling down the Eastern side of the pond I heard a strange sound. I couldn’t identify it and at first thought it was a woman’s scream. I heard it occasionally after that and realized it was not a person. I spotted a couple of loons and decided to check them out for a minute.

As I approached the loons I realized the source of the strange sound! There were two juvenile loon chicks swimming around their mother making weird screeching noises! The three of them would take turns diving under then resurfacing further up the pond. I tried to guess where they would pop up to get myself closer to them. Eventually I was successful in my attempts and the mother came up very close to me! The chicks surfaced shortly after and I got some great photos plus a couple videos. The chicks were lighter colored then their mother and their heads were gray. Hers was the dark black that all adult loons have in common. They were obviously very attached to their mother and stayed very close to her. One of the juveniles ended up some distance away after one of its dives and began its screeching in earnest. It finally managed to produce a signature loon call although it wasn’t perfect! The chicks were learning to speak and I was fortunate to be witnessing something very special! They stayed close to me for some time and I was enjoying the moment to the fullest! The warm sun, calm pond, and my loon friends in front of me with the beautifully colored ridges in the distance. I paddled away and began to speculate about certain possibilities. Could this be the loon family I had seen early in July at a nearby pond? The father was gone it appeared. The pond was some distance away but it was all one connected waterway. The family could have swam from one pond to the other. Maybe the chicks could even fly by now. They would need to fly shortly I surmised with winter getting closer all the time. The chicks certainly had grown since July! My imagination began to run wild. Maybe the mother had discovered the huge northern pike in their pond and recognized the potential threat. I had lost it overboard after an epic battle and could attest to its size. It would have had no issue swallowing one of the tiny chicks back in July. I decided that these were the same family of loons at that point. Regardless of my theory I was happy that two loon chicks had survived the hazards of water.

The magic of nature is there to discover but it’s all about timing so much of the time. I have witnessed many wonderful things as I wandered afield through forest,swamp, and stream. To witness the baby chicks in July and then to see them again in October was truly something amazing! Today I paddled up to Floodwood Pond for a little catch and release fishing despite the windy conditions. As I approached the entrance of Copperas Pond this afternoon I spotted three loons up the waterway and recognized them as the loon family. I figured that I would encounter them later when I paddled in their direction so I left them to their fishing. The fishing was horrible on the windy pond but I did manage to land one small bass before I left. As I paddled up towards Little Square Pond I spotted one lone loon. It was one of the juveniles and I got very close to it. It was busy fishing and I wondered where the other two had gone. I found them way up in the mouth of Little Square Pond fishing together. I got a nice photo and a short video of the two of them together. Nature was taking its course it seemed. The lone juvenile was becoming comfortable being on its own although I suspect that they joined up later. I had hoped to see one of the juveniles trying to fly but that’s asking for a lot!

My day would soon get more interesting as I paddled the winding stream up towards Floodwood Pond. I finally found a slender peeled beaver stick! It wasn’t a perfect specimen but given the selection it was still a worthy collectible.There was no active beaver lodge nearby so I assumed that the feeding beaver was just passing through. It’s hard to say really. Sometimes hermit beaver survive with little evidence of their existence. I continue to be baffled by the lack of beaver sign here. It’s something that will bring me back sometime to further investigate the surrounding areas.

What happened next was a rare and special treat! As I rounded a corner of the creek I spotted something on top of a sunken log deadfall on the bank. It was a mink. It dropped out of sight and I figured that I would never see it again but got my phone camera ready. I nosed my canoe up to the end of the log and spotted the mink! It was peeking over the top of another log at me! I got a quick photo and sat perfectly still with the canoe wedged against the log. The mink became curious and jumped up onto the top of the log before diving off into the shallow water. I put my phone camera onto video and waited for a few seconds. The mink appeared and put on quite the show! I filmed it for 51 seconds before it fled downstream. It was so amazingly agile and flexible! Fast as lightning! What an incredible video I shot! Timing is everything! I felt very fortunate to capture the moment!

In conclusion I would have to say that I have been very fortunate over the years to be able to enjoy nature in its finest moments. Living in the country and being able to easily visit the Adirondacks. You just never know what you will encounter or when you will encounter it! That’s the draw. Such moments pull me deeper into the circle and I cherish them! It’s MOONTABS and more!

Beyond The Run Of The Mill

Several months ago I began the “Run of the Mill” stories as a manner in which to preserve some of my personal rural heritage history. People have told me that they wish to hear more of those long past decades. I have a tendency to wander aimlessly through those decades.It’s all connected though! Often my certain memories are triggered by the changing of the seasons. I feel that affords better story telling with greater emotional connection. One particular set of memories stands out with a certain clarity beginning in 1996. A series of events began to connect and would ultimately lead in unexpected directions. It started quite simply in 1996 with the purchase of 110 acres of rural property on the edge of the Macomb/Rossie town boundary. It was a mere 7 miles from my father’s farm giving it the advantage of proximity but there was a larger draw. The undeveloped potential of the land. There was a modern element of homesteading that appealed to me in some unique manner. In fact many years prior to purchasing the property I had driven past different times and noticed that very potential. I had always expected someone to develop it but it never happened. The main feature of the property that caught my eye was the open meadow that stood at the base of a wooded ridge line. There were no power lines on the property nor access roads of any kind. It’s difficult to say why it held such appeal but I suppose it was the sheltered way the meadow was tucked in between the surrounding ridges. Also the fact that there were no neighbors in sight either. One day in 1996 I noticed a small For Sale By Owner sign by the road. I walked the property with the owner and was immediately hooked.We had strolled through the numerous stands of tall white pine and found ourselves on the bank of the Bostwick Creek. A group of ducks gave flight from the lower end of a large beaver pond and flew up over a steep ridge of red oak trees. A small meadow sat adjacent to the beaver pond in a basin of sorts surrounded by forest. I knew that the property was perfect at that point. It would take some work to make it a homestead but I found that exciting actually. Perhaps I envisioned myself as some type of pioneer. Some trimming and clearing began later that year along the edges of the meadow. I laid out the driveway first and it was installed in 1997. It was built right along the edge of the forest so it would be minimally invasive to the meadow’s appearance.The site for a 26’x40’ garage/barn was staked out for construction that fall.Some test holes were excavated to determine if a cellar was possible for the future house. Macomb is known for its veins of bedrock that reach the surface with no predictability.No bedrock was discovered but the hard clay soil of the meadow’s side hill would require custom drainage systems. Big plans were brewing for 1998.The hard work was truly about to begin! As winter approached I cut a logging road into a back section of the property where some of the white pine was beginning to die off. In January my father and I began to harvest white pine logs from the property using a team of horses that he trucked in on Saturday mornings.An area of the forest was targeted and we constructed a landing in a slightly open spot under some large pines that were to remain. I did all the felling and limbing in addition to hitching the logs for skidding. The logs were skidded a short distance to the landing then loaded onto a horse drawn wagon and taken out to the edge of the highway to be piled on a side hill staging area.Mid day we would eat our lunch right in the woods while the horses munched on some hay my father had brought in a grain sack. It was busy work and we left tired at the end of the day. We worked the same section for several Saturdays and made great progress due to the lack of snow. I clear cut my way through the stands leaving plenty of young healthy trees beyond the slash. A buffer zone now lay between the dead trees and the living. The pine logs were high quality and very fun to fell! Tall and straight with few limbs near their bottoms. There was a certain thrill in the prospect of turning them into lumber as they fell one by one with crashing roars. I would get lost in the work and move from one to the next. Using a chainsaw requires focus especially when limbing. The large pines often crush smaller hardwoods when they land. These bent over saplings possess incredible stored energy and are very dangerous to the feller. Spotting them is crucial to avoid injury! I call them “slap sticks” and for good reason! I employed a “layered” approach to the felling. I would fell a pine and trim it into skid logs which my father would then extract with the team. The next tree would be felled on top of the “slash” layer. The aftermath looked a little raw but the amount of young pine that remained standing was impressive to say the least. We would never lack for building materials provided the forest remained healthy. It is interesting to note that the slash areas healed quickly over the subsequent years and the skid roads became handy access trails for harvesting firewood.Later that spring we targeted another stand of healthy trees close to the future garage site.Another access road was carved in following the lay of the land. Staking out the access roads was a pleasant job that I truly enjoyed! A large network of potential trails began to appear to me at this point and I envisioned the true potential of a sustainable,healthy forest plan. That story must wait for now. I crafted a landing near the targeted ridge where we would be extracting logs. This area was experiencing a die off similar to the one we had just harvested. The cutting yielded some very large logs that were perfect for creating pine siding boards. This section of forest contained more hardwood species so felling was a bit tricky! The logs were hauled by the horse drawn wagon out to the driveway area to a second staging area.A higher section of the ridge had been heavily damaged by a wind event. I began to map out a future trail system to reach the area for a salvage cut. It was a fun part of the homestead process for me. The raw and undeveloped property was an ideal project of future forest stewardship. The property was so much different than the semi-open farm property where I had grown up.It was a true forest of some magnitude and I loved exploring its rolling terrain.From the clearing of the second landing the ground fell away into a deep valley.The back meadow and beaver pond on the Bostwick Creek were visible from there. It was a lovely place to relax and dream. We decided that our stockpiles of logs were adequate so the logging was concluded. Sometime in April after maple syrup season we trucked the logs to the Amish sawmill to be custom sawn for our barn/garage framing requirements.All the lumber was trucked back and unloaded by hand. I stacked and “stickered”it up on top of crib piers that I constructed from concrete blocks. Stickering lumber allows it to air dry by keeping the pieces separated by narrow strips of lumber. We hired a backhoe operator to prep the hill side garage site and managed to it leveled for building. An Amish crew began to work shortly after. Footers were poured and layers of block were laid to build the garage into the side of the hill.The barn/garage was tucked into a notch in the meadow at the end of the driveway. The gambrel roofed barn/garage went up quickly and was soon finished minus the doors. I made some temporary doors from plywood that fall and stored extra lumber inside. Electricity was brought to the corner property a year later after reaching a deal with the power company. Conduits were buried to bring power and phone to the garage to keep the pristine appearance of the meadow intact. . The stage was now set for the next part of the homesteading project. Planning began for the actual house. It would be constructed in 2001. The logging project that led to the barn/garage being built brought a sudden realization to the table. Why haul logs from the property only to haul the lumber back again? We began to consider buying our own sawmill from that day forward. My father pushed for the purchase and in 2003 I agreed to buy one with him. We chose a portable sawmill that was popular with the Amish. The Brubacher . Made in Canada using minimal hydraulics and no high end technology. We chose the gas powered option with a 25 horsepower Robins Subaru engine. Capable of cutting a 20 foot log with a 30 inch circumference. Solid and sturdy in its simple design. The new direction began to show itself that year as I learned to become a sawyer. I began to recognize my connection to my late grandfather as he had been a logger and sawyer in the 1960’s. My father had worked in the woods his entire life as well. I was already close to my father and frequently worked with him at the farm but something new was beginning to take shape. A new era of bonding and deeper father/son friendship formed as we began working together with our new sawmill toy. If only I could gift that feeling to the world and truly emphasize what it meant to me! A transformation was underway. One that would no unnoticed in the busy task of daily life. But the spirit energy would find me on the weekend when I walked the trails of the homestead property. It radiated from the scent of the pine lumber of the newly constructed barn/garage. Something much larger called out to be acknowledged in the hidden recesses of pine groves where nature ruled with quiet dominance.I suddenly began to question everything that was my normal vocation and began to yearn for something different. Looking back now I am truly thankful for all that followed. I can’t say it was planned and executed with a larger strategy. It just kind of showed itself and was decided along the way.It’s a story that deserves to be told in greater detail to truly capture the spirit of the moment. Many things were bound to happen. Many things did happen. These would be the years of self discovery and ultimately the start of something that continues to grow. The years of blood,sweat, and tears I’ve called them. They passed fast it seems now. I found a part of myself in those years that had laid dormant like a seed waiting for it’s time to grow. The spirit energy flowed strong and fast. My heart told me to chase the possibilities so I did. There are few regrets and oh so many blessings. Those memories I have named MOONTABS.

The Many Changes Of A Season

March 20th. We have been maple sugaring for a full two weels now after tapping our first trees on Saturday March 5th. The weather continues to challenge our efforts with its roller coaster swings but we have managed to make some good quality syrup. Thursday’s temperature was a bit extreme though (70 degrees) and the nights have remained above freezing since. Zane and I decided to tap some additional trees Friday regardless since I feel it will boast our sap production this upcoming week as temperatures begin to drop at night. Freezing nights and warm days make for good sap flow typically. We targeted some of our larger maples that survived the 2016/2017 die off in two different sections of our former sugarbush. We call them the reserve trees. They have sat fallow for the last two seasons as we waited to assess the fate of our forest. The reserves sit in a mixture of dead ones sprinkled with the stumps of some we removed as part of the salvage project. It’s taken some mental acceptance to move forward in these devastated woods. It’s been heartening to note the number of young saplings that are going to replace the fallen giants in time. The trails continue to require clearing as the upper canopies continue to fall during each big wind event. It’s getting better in some sections though. This season many of our taps are on our neighbor Tom’s property again. Similar to last year actually. We call the trail system we carved out two years ago the “Big Loop”. It takes some time to gather all the buckets around it’s meandering route. There are four runs of “mini-tubes” that collect from small clusters of hard to reach trees. I have covered some of these facts in previous posts if you have been following our stories. At the moment we have close to 500 taps set after Friday’s work adding about 60 more. Things are pretty normal in the sugar house once we got set up and rolling. A leak in the drop flue back pan gave us some concern but luckily the fire sealed it off. We will need to have it reconditioned this summer after we finish up boiling. We still have plenty of firewood for the evaporator but will use up most of it if the season lasts long enough. We are using a dry slab wood/hardwood mix again this year. It works great at keeping the evaporator stoked. We usually need to fire up the evaporator twice between batches. Our old 4×10 foot unit produces about 2 gallons of syrup per hour average. A full storage tank of sap is about 400 gallons which translates into about 5 hours of actual work boiling. There’s lots of activity in the sugar house during a fully fired boil. Constant firewood to handle and move in from the attached woodshed. Jen or Zane usually assist with that when they are available. There’s hot syrup to strain and pack after each batch is drawn. I don’t sit much if I am working alone some days. The evaporator is a engine of sorts where the air damper acts as a carburetor and the firewood is the fuel. Keeping a steady constant boil takes practice but isn’t too difficult really once you learn the needs of the evaporator. Monitoring the flow of sap into the evaporator is crucial for maintaining the needs of the evaporator. This is accomplished with a simple device known as a float. The float rises and lowers with the evaporator level opening or closing a simple valve. Once set up it just needs to be watched. I listen for it actually. Immediately after firing the evaporation the boil intensifies and more sap enters the raw sap chamber of the back pan. This produces a certain sound that you learn to recognize as a properly functioning float system. You also learn to recognize when the sap trapped in the finishing pan gets close to becoming actual syrup. Tiny golden bubbles rise to the surface and prompt the operator to start testing the batch. We use a simple hydrometer in a test vial for hot testing boiling sap. It works fine and I keep a new one on hand to verify the accuracy of the one that I am actually using. All this may seem a little boring perhaps but this is a snapshot into a typical boiling day. We test each batch of syrup for color grade before tagging the containers for sale. I also taste test each batch for quality. Especially as we move into the mid-season and the sap quality deteriorates due to tree budding and increased bacteria count. No worries about the bacteria!They are destroyed in the intense boiling procedure and merely contribute to altering the color of the finished product. We have been producing good quality syrup to date that is graded as Amber Rich. Probably the favorite of the majority of our customers. Myself I prefer the hearty syrup that is graded as Dark Robust. Full maple flavor with a darker color. Eventually the syrup will pass into a commercial grade product that we will barrel up to sell. These are just a few of the changes we experience in any given syrup season. This year we are experiencing a number of other changes as well unrelated to the maple syrup season. Friends and family who are facing serious health issues and treatment decisions. Some who are losing their battles to ongoing health situations. I shun from politics on my blog but the state of world affairs at this moment is disturbing and troubling. All this things can burden the heart and dampen our spirits at times. They press on us and occupy our thoughts far too often. In the forest gathering sap and in the sugar house I seek a peaceful place of reflection where I try to count my blessings and find inner strength. Not just for myself but to help others as well. These are trying times and I seek to find a positive momentum forward. We are in the midst of great change. Both in reality and in season. Spirit energy can guide us I feel. To a place where we might relax with natural connection and wholesome reflection. Today we move forward into the ever changing syrup season of 2022.