The spring melt is beginning to make gathering sap difficult and muddy.

March 31, 2020 - Tuesday evening

37 degrees/cloudy skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Sargie and I spent much of Tuesday in the woods. With the current chilly, cloudy, weather, we didn't know if the sap would run and were surprised when we discovered most of the bags were full to overflowing shortly after noon. Sargie and I gathered over forty gallons during our first trip to the woods.

After the heavy rain a couple of days ago, we found four or five bags containing sap with a yellow tinge, a sign that the season is getting on. 

We gathered over twenty gallons this evening and  none of the sap was yellow so I'm fairly certain rain was the cause. Late sap also turns yellow just before a tree is ready to bud. If too much is used, the syrup will be dark and have an unpleasant flavor.

 Since the trees are showing no sign of budding, I'm not worried about using the sap. Also, the syrup we've put up so far is very light. Syrup boils progressively darker as the season goes along and has a stronger maple flavor. 

Sargie and I took a stroll around the property late this afternoon. The front meadow is filling with melt and rain water and it won't be long before Lake Pentoga is filled with water.

The garden pond continues to open up. Sargie and I spent some time trying to count how many goldfish made it through the winter. The water is crystal clear, but since the fish were swimming in eleven feet of water, it was difficult to get an exact count.

With the snow quickly disappearing from the maple woods, I'm going to park the Tundra snowmobile and get the four wheeler ready for hauling sap. The first chore after Wednesday morning's walk will be to build a box large enough to hold two five gallon buckets and fit on the back of the ATV. The forecast is favorable for another few days of gathering sap, enough to finish out the year.



I have some forms to complete in the morning that requires me to be online. Since our internet is so slow due to traffic during the day, I'll take advantage of the faster speeds early in the morning. After, I'll go for my morning walk then begin the day for real.

Meanwhile, it's this boy's bedtime. 

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Today's random Alaska picture:
A bush plane is landing on the ice in front of my cabin on the Noatak River. We were flying to a small village in the Brooks Mountain Range, several hundred miles away.

The garden pond finally opened and look who was there to greet me.

March 31, 2020 - Tuesday morning

31 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I looked at the pond from our upstairs bedroom window Monday morning and my first thought was that it was overflowing. Throwing my clothes on, I struggled into my barn boots and made my way out to the water's edge. I shoveled snow and chipped ice from the overflow that allows excess water to flow from the pond to alongside the garden and finally, into a culvert under the road and onto Jambo's plantation.

I was delighted to see the goldfish and know they made it through a long and difficult winter. 

The blueberry bushes didn't fare so well these past six months. With the heavy snow and ice of November and December, they are but mere nubs of their former selves.

Winter has taken its toll and it appears this will be a slim blueberry year on Pentoga Road.

We did end up boiling yesterday. The clouds, mist, cold temperatures, and heavy wind of the early morning morphed into a fairly nice day. In fact, in the end, we boiled all the sap that was in storage and are now ready to begin collecting to fill the empty barrels. The boiler won't be started again for a few days.

I'm pouring the last of the stored sap into the large container that will flow down into the evaporator to be boiled.

We finished two batches yesterday afternoon over the propane burner.

The quart bottles of syrup look good. We probably have enough for this coming year, but hope to put up another three gallons or so, plenty to put in the "syrup bank" should we not boil next year for some reason.



This year's sugar content in the sap seems quite low. The rule of thumb states that it takes approximately forty gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup. I've had years where it took as little as thirty two gallons and this year, the number seems closer to fifty. I have no idea how or why the sugar content changes from year to year, but that's part of the challenge.

Regardless, the end product remains the same. It just takes more sap and longer to boil it down.

Fresh from the boiler, this hot jar of syrup is light and very sweet, just the way we like it.

With nothing to boil, collect, or can, Sargie and I went to town to exchange a propane cylinder. Like most other communities, our's resembles a ghost town. 

We self quarantined ourselves in the Kia and made our way to the dam in Crystal Falls to watch the yearly melt water spill over the hydro electric dam on the Paint River.



Last night was a quiet one, very quiet. I dozed off around 7 PM on the couch, yet was conscious enough to watch some television until bedtime. Poor Sargie was left to her own devices across the living room. I'm afraid I'm not much company during the evening hours these days.

As everyone who knows Sargie and me has come to realize, we're exact opposites. 

She enjoys sleeping in when possible and my eyes seem to pop wide open anywhere between 4 to 5 AM. Midnight would be her preferable bedtime. I'd gladly go upstairs anytime after 8 PM. 

My peak mental and physical time occurs around 6 AM. Her's is closer to 6 PM.

I'm boisterous, a talker, and regardless what I try to convince you of on the blog, often, not a very deep thinker. 

Sargie's very quiet, a listener. She has a way of making one want to talk to her, taking each person in with her eyes, silently communicating she's willing to listen. My girl thinks, really thinks, before talking. 

Me? My mouth often races ahead of my brain.

I'm the outdoor type, gung ho, give 'em hell, damn the torpedos, full speed ahead. Sargie's much more refined. I'm still trying to talk her into accompanying me on my thru-hike attempt of the Appalachian Trail in 2022. 

Yeah, ask me how that's going.

With tongue in cheek, I say that if you can't see germs, how do you know they really exist. Though not a germaphobe by definition, Sargie could be defined as borderline. In this day of the Corona Virus, that's a good thing one of us some common sense.

Sargie's afraid of the dark. I'm not.

She likes unsweetened tea. I only drink Miss Jody's sweet tea.

I love to swim and be on, over, or around the water. Sargie's fearful of any body of water that is deeper than her big toe.

She loves her McDonald's Coke. If I have a sip once a week, that's good enough.

She prefers hot weather. I like cooler temperatures.

And the list goes on and on, but I think that's why we get along so well and are such a perfect match. Sargie really tries to join my world and I her's, and with those things that are not shared, we give our blessing for the other to enjoy.

There are no jealousies and other than playing a game of H-O-R-S-E (basketball) in the drive, no competition. (She continually beats me into submission and destroys my athletic self esteem.)

My Sargie has taught me to be a bit more refined, that waiting for her at a woman's clothing store won't turn me into a girl and reminds me I don't have to continually climb to the peak of the highest mountain in the name of manhood.

She's also taught me that asking someone to "pull my finger," is never appropriate, even with those we know and love.

I've taught her that there's a whole world of activities that can be fun and adventurous, yet safe. She can and does drive any of the machinery around here, builds a fire like pro, loves to go fishing and often suggests we go before I get a chance to.

Both of us are doing things now we've never done before.

Why? 

We love each other, even if she won't hike with me and I fall asleep nightly at 7 PM. 

It's a match made in Heaven and God certainly knew what He was doing when He introduced two unlikely, opposite, hurting souls. 

OK, not sure where all that came from, but what I am certain of is that it's time to go for my morning walk. 



If Carl the Weatherman is correct (and he is about half the time) we'll be collecting sap once, maybe twice today.

Time to get moving.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Today's random Alaska picture:
Mostly Inupiaq and Yupik Eskimo students paddling a Tlinget Indian canoe.

I was running a six week Native academic camp for high school age natives at Sheldon Jackson College in Sitka. 
This was supposed to be a cross cultural weekend and I quickly learned that thousands of years of hard feelings between the two cultures weren't forgotten. We didn't do it the next year.

We who live in the north have five seasons:
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter, and
MUD season.

 March 30, 2020 - Monday morning
32 degrees/cloudy/windy
Pentoga Road

One of the nicer things about spring is that Sargie and I are able to sleep with our bedroom window open, something we do nightly eight months out of the year. We snuggle under the blankets, our arms and legs pretzeled in such a tangled mess that various numb appendages have to be awakened the next morning to regain any feeling. We especially love listening to the bubbling in the garden pond caused by the large circulating pump.

It may have snowed last night, but down deep, Sargie and I know that warmer weather is around the corner.

How do we know?

Duh, because we slept with our window open. 

Every true northerner knows that a little snow helps to keep the mosquitoes at bay

Well, it's all about the syrup, not the sap, but the syrup. (Sorry, that was my attempt to parody the Meghan Trainor song, All About That Bass.) 

Actually, that's not completely true. It's about both.

We boiled all day Sunday. Oh how we boiled.

Through rain, mist, wind, snow, and stampeding musk ox, (just wanted to see if you are really reading or just looking at the pictures) the fire was kept roaring in the wood box as the sap roiled overhead. I grew weary of continually adding water every few minutes, plus, I sensed I was doing something wrong. 

Though the sap was evaporating, the end batch was no closer to becoming syrup and ready to draw from the pan. At the rate we were going, the entire contents of the large pan, several gallons, would be ready to process at the same time. The system is designed so that an occasional "batching" can be made in smaller, more manageable, amounts.

What was I doing wrong?

Luke helps a buddy tap thousands of trees in Maine and ventured that I was adding too much sap at any given time. 

That got me to thinking.

There was a float box attached to the boiler (technically, it's an evaporator, but boiler is much easier to type). Knowing I didn't have a large holding tank or a way to mount the tank above the boiler so it would gravity feed into the box, I'd not ordered the kit. I figured on such short notice and for this year anyway, water could be added manually.

Doing it all by hand meant I had to continually stand by the boiler, adding little amounts at a time and it seems I was pouring in too much. It made for a long and tedious process.

We wanted to make a quick dash to town Sunday morning, but I was unable to leave the boiler for that long of a time. We surely didn't want the pan to boil dry and the wood box would need to be occasionally filled.

Hmmm. Hmmm. Wait. Wait. Hold on, I was having a deep thought.

What if....

I gave Sargie a short list of parts I needed and begged her to stop by the hardware store in town.

My girl was back home an hour later with what I thought was needed to make a sap auto fill system.

First, I needed to make a special hose-like thingamajig, an adaptor, to fit the float box. I had an old piece of hose lying around and cut it into needed sections, it worked perfectly.

Now that it was attached to the float box, what next?

Ah, a storage tank. A brand new pretty trash barrel would suffice.

A hole was drilled towards the bottom and a flange, one used for a bilge pump on a boat, was inserted.

You can come out now, Sargie
Actually, Sargie was holding the other side of the flange while I was tightening the outside. It was definitely a two person job.

 A plastic faucet was screwed into the flange. Our tank was ready for use.

Sargie's giving it a test run

Now comes the important part, that of hoping and praying the old Ford 8N tractor would start. Without it, it would be game over.

Nothing runs like a Deere... or in our case, a Ford.

We placed the barrel on the tines of the bucket and filled it with sap.

A hose was connected from the float box to the spigot and up into the air went the barrel.

With a slow leak in the hydraulics, that 2x4 holding the bucket is also a very important piece of the puzzle.

After an adjustment or ten, the new system worked flawlessly. We no longer have to stand by the boiler and add water by hand. The tank can be refilled by simply starting the tractor, lowering the bucket, and dumping in several five gallon pails of sap, something that has to be done two or three times during the entire day.

I've thought about patenting the process, but knowing it works best by utilizing a leaky, sixty-eight year old Ford tractor whose bucket is held up with a 2x4, I was fearful the demand might not be there. 

Most people prefer newer, more modern machinery and I'm not certain my method would be as efficient for them. For instance, if I had Mississippi Brother Garry's nice, shiny, power-everything, Kabota tractor, it might not work nearly as well. 

.... but I digress.

Meanwhile, anticipating boiling off our first batch of syrup, Sargie returned to the kitchen to prepare the first of umpteen quart jars.

She may be smiling on the outside, but what Sargie's really thinking is, "I'm tired, I'm cold, I'm wet, and I'd really like to go sit by the wood stove where it's warm and dry."

Since this was our first time using the boiler and not wishing to ruin several gallons of hard earned syrup, we opted to finish a much smaller batch than normal. 

The sap that was not quite syrup was poured into a stainless steel pot (used for boiling crabs in Alaska) and set on the propane burner. 

Much like making candy, the heat must be carefully managed and when the syrup is ready, IT'S READY. Just a few seconds one way or the other can make a huge difference in the quality of the finished product.

I'm using a hydrometer to check for the density of the syrup. A floating glass that resembles a weighted thermometer will signal when it's finished. 

Sargie and I ran the boiling syrup through a felt sock before pouring and sealing it in quart jars. The quality appears to be top notch and later, we gave it the ultimate taste test by enjoying hot, very fresh, maple syrup, poured over a couple of scoops of vanilla ice cream.

Sargie and I work really well together, but she has a bone or two to pick with me. First, I learned we don't throw dirty gloves on the kitchen table. I guess I can live with that.

If that weren't demanding enough, now she's after me to straighten up the boiling area outside. The girl says it looks like a bunch of hillbillies live here. 

I guess the final straw was when she saw an old kitchen chair sitting on the drive by the snowmobile. 

I don't know of any rule saying a guy can't boil in comfort.

It's finally daylight, but I'm unsure if we'll boil today. It's very windy and cold and since the wind howls through the wood shed with only a roof for cover, it wouldn't be nearly as efficient. Assuming the sap doesn't run today and I start the boiling first thing Tuesday morning, we should be in good shape.

Meanwhile, with Saturday night's deluge of rain, it appears the garden pond is about ready to overflow. I need to chip the ice out of the overflow so it doesn't back up into the yard.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Oh yeah, baby, we're making maple syrup!

March 29, 2020 - Sunday morning

37 degrees/rain/calm winds

Pentoga Road

It's been raining hard all night and I hate to see what daylight will bring. It was muddy and sloppy before the rain. What's today going to look like?

I was in the shop shortly after 4 AM Saturday morning. With the storage barrels full to overflowing, it was imperative that the evaporator be finished so boiling could begin.

Sargie and I had completed the "bones" of the boiler, but knowing how to install the insides remained elusive. With a very slow daytime internet speed and instructions totally online, my only choice was to start work very early while bandwidth was at its optimum.

Sheets of ceramic cloth covered the bare metal chamber. Fire bricks then cover the ceramic to protect it from the extreme heat.

 With the burning chamber and firebricks installed, we placed the divided stainless steel pan on top and rolled the boiler outside. Next came setting up the flue.

Almost twenty gallons of raw sap was added to the boiling pan. I filled the burning chamber with dried wood of every kind, splashed on a bit of fuel oil, and lit the match. We were in business.

It seemed to take forever for the initial batch to begin boiling. 

The pan on top is an old one used as a warming pan. It preheats the sap so the boil isn't killed when its contents are added.

When the sap began to boil, it really rolled.

Between sixty and eighty gallons of sap were boiled yesterday afternoon, enough to make a gallon and a half to two gallons of syrup. Draw off will be coming soon today and we'll begin canning in quart jars sometime this afternoon. 

We could have begun drawing off at some point last evening, but both Sargie and I were simply too tired. This past week has seen us working harder than two retired people should ever have to work and with rain pouring down, we decided to enjoy an early evening by the wood stove.

I wonder if people have any idea of the work involved in producing just one gallon of maple syrup? Sometimes, I think a person has to be a complete idiot for going through this whole process of tapping, collecting, boiling, and canning.

It's almost daylight and this idiot will soon be heading outside to fire up the boiler. Starting a good hot fire will be a challenge due to the dampness, but thankfully, I have a stash of old fire wood that's high and dry in the red shed. All my wood is under cover, but the air is so wet it can be wrung out like a wet washrag. 

With this recent heavy rain, I have no idea how long the maple season will last. If conditions are too bad in the woods for either the snowmobile or four wheeler to be used for gathering, we'll pull the taps sooner rather than later. If one or the other can be used, we'll tap for another week. 

Our goal for this year has been to produce somewhere in the five gallon range. We should have that much sap already sitting in the barrels. Anything beyond that is icing on the cake.

It must be spring.
Two snow geese flying overhead.

I've stalled as long as I can. Time to put on the boots, wade out into the mud, walk through the rain, and get a fire started.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

March 27, 2020 - Friday evening

36 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I thought I ought to write this evening as I'll be up and out of the house, putting the finishing touches on the evaporator before sunrise in the morning.

And yes, it finally came today.

Each box was big and heavy and it took Sargie and I, both, just to move them around in the barn.

I was out the door Friday morning to check the bags in the maple woods. Only a couple had run during the night, so we got a reprieve of sorts. Believe me, we paid for it later when almost all the bags were full to busting at the seams, not once, but twice during the day.

Once again, we collected well over a hundred gallons of sap today, enough to make two and a half gallons of pure maple syrup. 

While waiting for the evaporator to arrive, I got to work on turning a bowl, one that I've piddled around with for the past six weeks.

Mississippi Brother Garry taught me several new chisel techniques and I was anxious to put them to use. 

The UPS man left a package at our front door. When I opened it, I found the most beautiful carbide chisel, a gift from Mississippi Brother Garry.

If the chisel allows me to turn bowls half as beautiful as those that Garry produces, I'll be tickled to death. 

Thanks again Brother.

When we weren't gathering sap, Sargie and I were working on assembling the evaporator.

First, we had to spray a special type of paint onto the pieces that made up the sides and base. That was the fun part.

Sorting out the pieces, the nuts, bolts, and washers, was a daunting task. 

Rather than coming with paper instructions, all directions for the evaporator are via a video on youtube. Problem is, our internet speed is between that of a rock and a tortoise. With the current lock down of most the nation, it appears everyone is online. 

The guy in the video loves to talk and tell stories. All we really wanted were the directions. I didn't need to learn how to tell dry from green wood or what happens if one lets a pan go dry over high heat.

Heck, I was putting up syrup before the person in the video was born.

Consequently, between little bandwidth and having to listen to the fellow tell stories while assembling the evaporator, Sargie and I were more than a bit frustrated.

The afternoon moved ahead quickly and we halted our labors in the barn to return to the woods and collect another forty gallons of sap. As soon as the bags were emptied, we returned to the barn.

It was past 8 tonight before we halted work. Though we carried the base and evaporator into the shop where it was warmer and the light much better, exhaustion caused us to stop for the day. The minds were willing, but our bodies were screaming in protest.

I'd like to be in the shop first thing in the morning and finish the evaporator. We're close, but we're not there yet.

First things first, however. I need to watch the last twenty minutes of the hour and a half long video to see how this whole thing comes out.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Sargie saw the first robin on the year today down by the garden.