My maple experience began when I was ten years old and we lived in suburbia. Our family was unique in the community as my father, who worked in high tech, had grown up on a farm and maintained his interest in the aspects of rural life that he enjoyed, particularly maple syrup production. Dad scoured the countryside of March Township and discovered a maple forest (sugar bush) near Carp which was fully equipped yet sitting idle. The owners, the Parkinsons, were happy to see their sugar bush being used by this young family. So, my maple adventure began.
I recall that our family journey into maple production was a wonderful experience — made so by my parents’ willingness to haul us all out to the woods in the station wagon and turn us loose. There are five of us kids, and we were as wild as the wind and the weather, sometimes useful, very busy, and always hungry. I think this was especially demanding for my mother Ruth, as dad would be totally absorbed with maple operations.
The “sugar shanty,” as Dad referred to it, was located in the middle of the forest, convenient for collecting sap but requiring that all of us and our supplies be hauled in. Dad had a 10 HP single cylinder Ski-Doo with a sleigh, on which he transported the family and all our stuff to the shanty, and hauled a tired family and whatever syrup we made back to the car. There was no hydro, so meals were prepared over a campfire and light was provided by lanterns. Fires are a big hit with kids, so much time was spent around the fire burning whatever we could get our hands on.
First on the order of operations was to clear the roads in the woods so that the tractor could get around with its trailer to gather sap. Mr. Parkinson owned a construction company, so he brought in a small bulldozer, which was very cool to watch as it moved snow and eventually opened everything up. Next was tapping trees — kids could be useful carrying sap buckets and lids and hanging them on the spiles. Dad drilled the trees by hand, using a brace and bit. The lids were like a little roof — a peaked triangle you pushed onto to the top of the bucket and which gripped the roll at the top of the pail. The lid kept out the rain and debris, and hid the sap from the sun.
Collecting sap was my favourite job. It was exciting to hang onto the trailer as the tractor wound its way along the bumpy, muddy roads. Checking the buckets to see how much sap was in them was fascinating. The buckets on some trees would be full, while others had little sap. If the trees were large and had multiple buckets, they would have varying amounts of sap — and it was always exciting to see full pails. However, the fun ended there. The buckets had to be poured into gathering pails, carried back to the road, and dumped into the gathering tank. Gathering was heavy work for young kids, and we did a lot of it, while also managing to spill plenty on ourselves. While we weren’t perfect, we were “free” labour, which appealed to Dad.
Another “kid job” was pumping the gathered sap into the feed tank, which was high up on a platform inside the shanty. The pump was a dual-action, hand-powered piston pump. Each time the handle was pushed and pulled back and forth, some amount of sap was lifted up and squirted into the tank. This was not a high-volume pump and it seemed to take a long time, so we kids took turns at it until we got tired or bored. Gathering was a daily event, involving multiple trips by the tractor to cover all the corners of the sugar bush.
With sap in the tank at the camp, Dad would light the evaporator and boil the sap. This was not kid work, but we could haul wood over for Dad, after which we usually escaped into the woods. I fondly recall sitting up in the rafters beside the evaporator, enjoying the steam and the smell of boiling sap. This was adult time and we watched as Dad fed the fire, skimmed foam from the pans, dumped the finished syrup into filters, and then ladled it out by hand into cans and bottles with Mom’s help. We drank lots of sap, fresh from the trees and partially boiled, and even got some finished syrup now and then!
At some point, Mom would take some finished syrup outside and boil it in a small pot to make “jack wax” as Dad called it, or maple taffy as it is more commonly known. As you can imagine, taffy was a hit with us kids, and we quickly learned to make it ourselves.
When the sap stopped running, we would all help with the clean-up. Kids were useful once again, collecting the buckets and lids from the woods and helping with the washing. It was harder to maintain kid focus though, as the woods were coming alive and the ponds and streams were full of water — all of which was a lot more fun than cleaning buckets.
Every day came to an end when we would be hauled back to the car and returned home where Mom had to make supper for a bunch of tired and cranky kids. TV was not encouraged in our house, except when we returned from the woods and my parents needed a break!
Mom and Dad concluded that maple syrup making was good for our family, so in 1972 they bought their own sugar bush west of Almonte, called Fortune Farms. The lessons of buckets are well remembered, and we tapped a hundred or so trees as Dad developed the new farm. Pipelines were the future, which Mom and Dad embraced enthusiastically. Still lots of work for kids to do, but ample time for taffy and exploring, and just being kids. Gone was the excitement of checking the buckets on a tree and hauling sap; replaced by the inspiring sight of tanks full of sap that came to you. To this day, it is always a thrill for me to check the tanks or to watch in wonder as the sap drips from a spile into a pail.
Soon we will start to see buckets sprouting on maple trees throughout the countryside — even in cities and towns. Maple sap will be running, and hundreds of families will be gathering and boiling sap. For some, this is will be a new and exciting venture leading to a lot of new discoveries; for others, the continuation of their rite of spring. Some will become so engaged in the activity that they will tap more trees and gather more sap than they can easily handle and learn of the long hours of work needed to render sap into syrup. Many will prevail as the maple experience will become a part of their life. For a few lucky people, like me, maple will become an enterprise — a lifestyle which engages and supports a family and leads to rewarding times, good friends and pleasant memories.
We encourage everyone to visit a maple farm this spring. Enjoy the sights, sounds and smells of the sugarbush, and share a taste of spring with us.