In anticipation of the upcoming maple syrup season; getting ready to tap trees, the first trail of the year, using snowshoes, made through the maple woods.

February 4, 2014 – Tuesday

-15 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

This is the third day in a row that it’s dawned clear and cold and if today’s anything like that past two, the temperature will rise into the twenties and be beautiful. Yooper Brother Mark said he had a low of -26 Monday morning and I registered plus 25 Monday afternoon… a swing of fifty degrees in twenty-four hours.

Days like these remind me that maple season will be here in another six weeks, more or less. It’s the huge swings in temperature, when the highs get above freezing, that makes the sap run. Needless to say, I have maple/spring fever… bad.

Sargie had to work on Sunday. I walked my five miles then spent over an hour chipping away at the snow and ice in front of the mailbox. It had accumulated to the point that the mailman had to bend down out of the window of his car to put mail in the box.

Another hour flew by as I used the plow to push back the snow banks along the drive. With all that’s fallen this winter, things were getting a bit close. Actually, it was such a nice day that I was looking for any excuse to play outside. Pushing back the snow banks gave me just that.

The garage door opener has been acting funky. It closed, but then would come partway up before stopping. I fiddled around with the adjustment screws and finally got it just right. In reading the owner’s manual (afterwards) I discovered that very cold weather can make those things go out of adjustment.

What next? Ah, one of the old snowmobiles in back of the barn? Why not? I spent over an hour digging, prying, lifting, and swearing, as I attempted to free the machine. In the end, I wasn’t sure it would even start.

I removed both spark plugs and squirted a bit of starting fluid in each hole before replacing them… one pull, nothing. Two pulls and it jumped to life. It was another half an hour before I finished digging it from the snow drifts, but the snowmobile is now ready for maple season. In fact, I used it Monday to help build trails through the deep snow.

The winter outdoorsman's best friend... the blow dryer to thaw things out.

An attempt was made to watch the Super Bowl, but it simply wasn’t a game. I felt sorry for Payton and Denver Broncos. They weren’t any match for a much stronger and better Seattle team.

Monday began with a five-mile walk. Sargie had to work so I was left to my own devices. There were plenty of papers to read when I arrived home and it was close to noon before I caught up on my homework and could turn my attentions to the outdoors.

How best to make this year’s maple trails? Last year, I gutted through the woods on the snowmobile, often running into trees that insisted on jumping out in front of me. That’s hard on the snowmobile and my body alike.  I’ve had a year to think deep thoughts about that method of trail making and it just didn’t seem like something I wanted to do again.

I strapped on the snowshoes Monday afternoon and began a slow and methodical trek through snow that was often waist-deep, sometimes missing where I wanted the trail to go, but heading in the right direction. After almost three hours of tramping in the south woods, I was ready to go over the new trails with the snowmobile, to pack them down tight.

I felt sorry for Brutus. He’s used to leading. Jumping through snow that was often over his head, the pooch had no idea in which direction to lead me and I actually saw him run into a tree once. Talk about the blind leading the blind. He finally contented himself with the knowledge that he’d have to trust where I was going and in the end, I told him to take me home, something he was happy to do.

The trail after the snowmobile has packed it down

Sargie was home early last night, tired after a long day. Brutus passed out in front of the wood stove and I had difficulty keeping my eyes open. Earlier, it seemed as though each piece of firewood weighed about fifty pounds and to rise from my chair to put a log in the stove took such effort. It was barely past 9 PM when Sargie rose from her chair saying she was going to get ready for bed. I didn’t argue.

Whoops, I missed the trail.

Sargie’s off today. I’m hoping to continue to expand the network of maple trails through the woods. There’s plenty of time before the season starts, at least six weeks, but I’ve got spring fever and for whatever reason, it simply seems like the thing to do. Regardless of the amount of snow we receive between now and then, there’ll be a good base on which to walk when tapping trees and gathering sap.

I hate to say this, but I’m going to have to clean the garage. We’ve been piling stuff on the shelves all winter, never putting anything away. There’s old food to take back to the bears (though they are still in a deep hibernation), tools to put away, boxes to burn, and all that that comes with being too cold and lazy to put anything away.

The smell of paint pervades the garage. I’m thinking perhaps a can of spray paint froze and broke open. Time was spent on Monday looking for it, but so, nothing.

With all that said, it’s time to get another cup of coffee, listen to the news, and think some deep thoughts. After all, a man’s work is never done.

A large maple burl.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Note: I didn't write how I fell over once or twice on snowshoes ending up with a face full of snow and having the white stuff inside my clothes. I'm entirely too manly and coordinated to do such a thing. Besides, to admit it might damage my delicate self esteem.