It was back to the maple bush on Thursday

March 27, 2020 - Friday morning

31 degrees/fog/breezy

Pentoga Road

I have good news and bad news this morning. The good news? Well, my weight finally dropped below 220 pounds. Just another twenty to go.

The bad news? The darn evaporator didn't come in yesterday. Having gathered over a hundred gallons of sap on Thursday alone, if that evaporator doesn't hurry up and arrive, we might have to use the bathtub and kitchen sink. Only kidding, but it better get here soon.

We gathered three times yesterday to keep the bags from overflowing. Never thinking the sap would have run during the night, I found many were full and the first harvest came early, right after my walk Thursday morning.

Sargie and I made two more trips through the woods before nightfall, all producing gallons and gallons of sap.

Having over eighty-five taps, Sargie and I have developed a fairly efficient system. The tiring work isn't dumping the sap from the bag into the bucket, it's carrying the heavy water-filled buckets to the barn. We've found that if I ferry the buckets to the barrels via snowmobile, and keeping Sargie's bucket from becoming too heavy, we can get through the woods in fairly good shape.

I empty bags until Sargie tells me it's time to make a run.

As refined as our system has become, both of us are finding muscles we've not used in a while. This year's batch of syrup will be well earned!

At one point yesterday, the Tundra blew the hose from the engine block to the carburetor. It was a chore to wade back to the shop, gather the needed tools, wade back, and do an in-woods repair. I was reminded of the multiple trail-side repairs that were performed while traveling in the arctic. Other than a completely blown engine or a torn track, I carried enough parts and tools that I could make it to the closest village. 

With the snow melting and sunshine bright, I tried to get last Christmas's reindeer and sleigh from the solid ice in which the runners and legs have been entombed. 

I'm sure that anyone driving by has thought that we must be pretty lazy to keep our Christmas decorations out so long, but removing them without doing damage to the figurines was impossible. I used chisels, a rock hammer, and my handy-dandy Harbor Freight $12 heat gun, all to no avail.

Giving up, I finally put a thick layer of rock salt over the ice and as of last night, the sleigh had been freed. Rudolph remains frozen, but with another application of salt, we expect him to fly to his summer digs over the shop later today.

I also freed the old Ford 8N tractor from under a large branch that had fallen earlier this winter. The branch had become encased in ice and using a chain saw, I was able to finally remove it.

On a whim, I thought I'd try to start the old tractor. Since it utilizes a 6 volt electrical system, I wasn't optimistic.

Crawling on the seat, I pulled the choke and ignition knobs, said a silent prayer to Baby Jesus, and pushed the starter.

BOOM! My best mechanical friend in the world, the machine that was manufactured in the same month and year as I was born, fired to life!



It's hard to keep an old guy, mechanical or otherwise, down. Just as I'm doing with diet and exercise, I'll perform the pre summer maintenance on the tractor in the weeks to come so both of us will be ready for another summer of nonstop action.

While the chainsaw was out and running, I began cutting fallen trees away from the closest trails. All had come down in last November and December's snow storms.

 It's a mess and I'll be clearing trees, off and on, all summer.

We received our Trump 2020 flag yesterday and with Sargie's help, we mounted the pole on one of the maple trees so the flag could fly over the drive.



A side note here. If you don't like our beliefs, please don't write hateful comments. No one will see them and I won't read them. I may not agree with, but I do respect your right to your beliefs. I try to keep the blog nonpolitical, but we are who we are and proud to be that way. 

If the fact that Sargie and I are Conservative Christians who believe in God, family, and country first (a good Catholic married to a believing Protestant) bothers you, then don't read the blog. It was originally written for family and close friends anyway. If you read it regularly, then I regard you as a friend, regardless of your political preferences.

I may not agree with you, but I won't judge you. 

Please don't judge us.

Amen.

Today: Well, that darn evaporator better get here. According to the FED EX update I received a bit ago, it ought to arrive at any time. If it doesn't, you'd better go check your sink and bathtub. Sargie and I may be using it to store sap.

So, the tools are ready and I'll be assembling the evaporator between sap gathering expeditions.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

All done gathering for the day!

Niece, Aria, is jammin' out at Grandma and Grandpa's 

March 26, 2020 - Thursday morning

31 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I think we've got an out-of-control munchkin rocker in the family. Aria even has the wild hair to go with her persona. 

That's okay, as long as she keeps away from the tattoo parlors.

Hey, how about the price of gas? With every dark cloud comes a silver lining. 

What, below two dollars a gallon locally? I took advantage yesterday in Crystal Falls and filled the Kia as well as a five gallon gas can.

Unfortunately, in Iron River, due to some perennial greediness, gas remains at $1.99, a full .35 a gallon more expensive than in neighboring Crystal Falls, just fifteen miles away.

Guess where we're buying our fuel?

I was surprised Wednesday morning to discover many of the sap bags were full to overflowing. With Sargie's help, we gathered close to another forty gallons.

So far this week, the sap has been pouring from the trees. Looking at next week's forecast, it appears we should have another good run. As long as the snow remains on the ground, the water (sap) ought to stay clear making for the best syrup. As the very short season progresses, the sap will cause the syrup to be darker with a stronger maple flavor. Many people prefer it that way, especially for cooking.

Talk about wet and gloppy. A fine mist and fog permeated the air and the snow was soft. Thankfully, we have the Tundra which is a real life saver.

That's the same model of Ski Doo that I rode during my arctic Alaska days.  Riding 10,000 miles or more in a single year wasn't unusual.

We use the machine to ferry water to the boiling shed, five gallons at a time.

The mist turned to rain and that to hard rain. The sap quit running and Sargie and I were able to enjoy a much lazier afternoon than in the previous days.

Between the melting snow and rain, there's a reason why it's called mud season.

Some of the afternoon was spent in the shop, preparing to assemble the new evaporator.

I noticed during yesterday morning's walk to Pentoga Village that people are sneaking across the border between Wisconsin and Michigan, navigating their four wheel drive vehicles on the very soft and muddy snowmobile trail. It's like Prohibition and running moonshine all over again.

I also saw a tow truck followed by a car coming from that direction yesterday.

Hmm, someone got stuck, did they?

The garden pond continues to open up and I was delighted to see how very clear the water is. So far, there's no sign of the goldfish, but they'll be along once the water warms. Meanwhile, they're remaining in a near hibernation state eleven feet down towards the bottom.

I'm excited. The Fed Ex truck is to deliver the new evaporator at some point today. Assembly will be in the heated shop before moving the several hundred pound beast to the wood shed and installing the firebrick. Thankfully, I ordered pneumatic tires so it should be fairly easy to move... I hope.

Plans are to start boiling tomorrow. We'd better as two more barrels were purchased yesterday in which to store additional sap. Simply put, we're running out of room.

My friend, Eileen, sent this from Maine. Had I had it last fall when I was the principal at Florence Elementary, I'd have worn it around my neck.

It's almost daylight and time to strap on the hikers to take my daily stroll. I'll check the sap bags after, then make sure I've got everything ready to assemble the evaporator. It promises to be a busy day.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Today's random Alaska picture:
Six of my Inupiaq teacher education students in Noorvik, Alaska.
My job as a professor for the university was to travel from village to village above the arctic circle on snowmobile in support of our Eskimo students. Almost all were employed as teacher aide's in their village schools. The majority were unfamiliar with computers or technology of any kind, so my job included instruction on how to power up and log onto their local school's computer(s), then teach each student basic commands so she could enroll in online courses. You'll notice in the above picture that ALL are using good old fashioned pen and paper without any digital assistance.

Even after emptying them earlier in the day, we found each gallon bag completely full late Tuesday afternoon.

March 25, 2020 - Wednesday

37 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Maple maple maple maple maple... EVERYTHING maple. After two days, we're maple'd out with at least two more weeks to go.

Well, dang, just like every tapping season, our lives have suddenly become completely absorbed in the world of sap, more than I would like to have at this moment.

You see, I encountered a problem yesterday. The man from whom I was buying the new evaporator backed out. Something about a virus, the amount of miles he'd have to drive to deliver the thing, and being unable to find a hotel room.

So, there I was, nearly a hundred gallons of sap in storage and no way to begin boiling. I started out the door to sneak into town to purchase twenty four new concrete fifty pound blocks when the always calm, cool, and collected, Sargie, said she'd found a Wisconsin company on the internet that manufactured evaporators in our price range and shipped for free. 

In the throes of having a mental breakdown, I told her I was SURE they wouldn't have what we needed and besides, how could it get here in time to help us?

She insisted.

I reluctantly called and got hold of my newest BFF, Jenny. I told her of my predicament and that time was of the essence. She assured me that her company had what I needed in my price range and they would guarantee delivery by this weekend.

I made the order and later, called back and talked to my second newest BFF, Jimmy, who said he was loading the pallet and the evaporator would be ready to ship via FED EX overnight first thing this morning.

Whew, dodged a bullet on that one. As usual, Sargie was right, something that she enjoys reminding me of. (I know, Miss Jody, I just ended the sentence with a preposition. I'm short of time and can't think of another way to word that thought.)

This baby has a divided boiling pan, warming pan, automatic float, four on the floor with overdrive, a four barrel carb, and of course, a Purple Burpee that can't be beat. 

No wonder women want me and men want to be me. Simply everyone will want to drive my new evaporator.

No Jambo, you'll have to enroll in the course, Evaporator's Ed, just like everyone else before you can get behind the grate.

Tuesday was a near perfect day. It began, as most, with a beautiful, mind-clearing, walk to Pentoga Village.

When I wasn't collecting sap, the rest of the day was spent making the east wood shed ready for the non existent evaporator. Oh well, at least it's ready for the new one when that arrives.

I've failed to mention that when Sargie's not doing chores in the house, she's usually outside working alongside of me. Gathering sap last night, we about worked ourselves down to the bone.

Over eighty gallons have been collected which will be boiled into about two gallons of syrup. I'm already looking forward to next year when the sap will flow to us via lines and a vacuum pump rather than Sargie and I having to cart it in five gallon pails. Neither of us are quite as young as we used to be.

In other news: Sarah sent this picture last week and it's gotten shuffled to the bottom of the digital pile. I'm happy to say that Isabella came through her tonsillectomy in great shape and the last I knew, was helping her mommy paint a wall in their home.

It's time to check the sap bags and see if the liquid that I both love and hate this time of the year ran during the night. If it did, I'll start collecting first thing. If not, I'm going for my walk and get mentally ready for a brand new day.

After all, a man's work and this time of the year, his bride's, is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Today's random Alaska picture:
I believe I was in Point Lay where the village was celebrating a successful harvest of a bowhead whale.
Though I was a holder, I wasn't a flying participant in the blanket toss. I did score a huge hunk of delicious muktuk, fat and skin of the whale, eaten raw.

It's maple syrup season and with it comes Pentoga Road's first drip of sap.

March 24, 2020 - Tuesday morning

20 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I'm up early this morning, gearing up for our first day of gathering sap. With the temperature forecast to rise into the upper 40's, combined with the current reading of 20 degrees, there should be a hard flow today in the maple woods. 

The more the temperature swings from low nighttime readings to high ones during the day, the harder the flow.

Tapping trees and gathering the sap is only part of the work in our maple operation. Still making syrup the old fashioned way, I washed almost a hundred taps, the majority made during the Civil War era.

I went for my walk Monday morning and delighted in seeing the large wolf tracks going down the middle of the main street in Pentoga Village. 

Look how far apart those are. He was a big one.

Sargie and I needed to run a few errands before we headed to the woods. I was happy to see that the grocery shelves have plenty of toilet paper. 

It appears the local Yooper community has some common sense. Forgoing food and many staples, the rest of the country has decided its hoard du jour are lowly rolls of toilet paper. I've earned a certification in arctic survival along with search and rescue and have yet to discover the importance of hoarding rolls of toilet tissue. 

In talking with Andy, who is working in Australia, he said toilet paper is the hottest commodity down under. 

Oh well, what do I know? I'm just an old retired school teacher who hasn't yet learned that TP is the most important commodity to survive a viral holocaust.

Spring is in the air. I was running hither, thither, and yon, yesterday, gathering the last of the items needed to tap trees. Coming back from the greenhouse, a moment was taken to appreciate how the open water in the pond is increasing with each passing day.

It was time to drill holes, pound in the spiles (spouts), and attach the bags.

Sargie and I worked side by side and by day's end, had tapped eighty trees.

First comes drilling the hole

Pounding in the spout

Attaching the freezer bag with binder twine

Ah, sweet success!

 I began using freezer bags years ago when the sons and I, using borrowed spouts, first began tapping trees. Having little to no money, I thought it might be the least expensive method of harvesting the sap. It worked well. At the end of the season, I simply cut the bags free from the spout before disposing of them. Due to their one gallon size, it also means that when the sap is running hard, it must be collected twice a day.

Tapping eighty trees was enough for one day. Sargie and I retrieved the forty gallon barrels from the storage container, the buckets, lids, etc, and took them to the manual car wash last evening to be sprayed and cleaned.

My new evaporator will be arriving either today or tomorrow. I received a text from the man who makes them saying he's got an essential business permit to be on the roads during this time of statewide lockdown. That means Frank and Earl will let him through. 

I sure hope he hurries. The way the sap is running, I'll be out of storage capacity in a couple of days.

It's time to put on the hikers and stroll down to Pentoga Village and back. No doubt, we'll make our first sap collecting foray into the woods a bit later today.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

After many years of thinking about it, I finally pulled the trigger and purchased an evaporator.

March 23, 2020 - Monday morning

27 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

One thing about it, no one will ever accuse me of being an impulse buyer. I've wanted and thought about purchasing a maple evaporator for a long long time. With the daunting task of setting up a homemade boiler yesterday afternoon, Sargie suggested that I check with the fellow with whom I've communicated the past several years about purchasing one.

He had what I wanted, the price was right, and yes, he'd deliver it from Rice Lake Wisconsin.

SOLD!

Yesterday was spent just fiddling around the place. I retrieved the maple taps from where they've been stored above the shop and washed those. The twine that is used to secure the gallon bags onto the taps was cut. I also found the specialized bit that's been used for the past thirty years to drill the holes for the spiles and made sure the batteries on the drill were charged.

I think I'm ready to tap trees.

Luke sent a picture of one wall in their basement. He and Coleman are covering it with pallet boards. I believe the boy's onto something.

Arg! I just heard that Michigan's governor is closing down the state, a "stay at home order," is to be issued and the Wisconsin border a mile away will be closed. I wonder if it's true?

For some crazy reason, the old show, Hogan's Heroes, comes to mind. Armed guards were featured and German Shepard dogs prevalent. Mostly, there was an abundance of slapstick comedy.

Hmm, will there be an armed guard posted on the Pentoga bridge going into Wisconsin, just a mile distant? Should I take him hot chocolate and cookies to keep him warm while on duty? 

Are those flat landers who live south of here, Wisconsinites, many of whom are personal friends, now considered illegals? No doubt, they'll be crashing the border to make their way into the promised land we call the Upper Peninsula to plunder our riches, steal our women, and ride off on our horses. 

Good, bad, or ugly, I never thought I'd live to this happening in the US. Driving home through Illinois the other day was weird enough. 

Now it appears the weirdness has infected our neck of the woods. As I'm often hearing, it's the times in which we live.

I guess so.

OH NO!

I just happened to think. The new evaporator is to be delivered from Rice Lake, Wisconsin, sometime this week. I guess I could meet him at the Wisconsin border where he could push his end of the evaporator across the state line. I'll be on the Michigan side, pulling it towards me. 

Whew. Problem solved.

I ordered most of the garden seed needed for this year's planting. 

The small, but tasty, Siberian tomatoes seem to grow best in our northern climes.

I ordered tomatoes, carrots, beets, pole beans, and of course, winter squash, among other goodies, assuming they can be mailed across the Wisconsin line.

With a high of 45 forecast today, I'm going to begin tapping trees as soon as I return from my morning stroll. 

The diet officially begins today. My goal is to shed twenty of these gorgeous, hunk-of-flesh, grandpa pounds that have decided to call my belly home. I feel great and think I'm in pretty good shape for my age, but I don't like sporting a pot belly. It's time it goes away. 

OK, speaking of disappearing, I'm going to strap on my new hiking shoes and walk around our seven mile block with a detour to the Pentoga bridge that connects Wisconsin to the UP. 

I want to see if there's an armed guard whose name is Seigfert, no doubt, accompanied by his attack dog, Hans. 

Or, his name might be Frank with his trusty mutt, Earl.

Darn Wisconsinites, anyway, no doubt, trying to crash the border.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Today's random Alaska picture:
Renowned Iditarod musher, Jeff King
I met Jeff over the years while traveling on snowmobile and on such occasions, shared mugs of hot tea along the trail.

Illinois Interstate 39/51 was all our's Saturday morning

March 22, 2020 - Sunday morning

7 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

We pulled onto Pentoga Road yesterday afternoon around 3 PM, give or take an hour. We weren't really sure since the time change had taken place during our absence and we'd forgotten. Since leaving Laurel, we'd been operating on Sargie and Tom's body time, not that of the real world.

It made no difference. We were home!

At least the drive is mostly melted

Yesterday morning was a bit spooky, almost strange. We awakened to an empty hotel parking lot.

Illinois is in a state of lock down with penalties for not staying at home. I was worried that we'd be stopped before reaching the Wisconsin border far to the north. Our car didn't exactly blend in with none of the others.



Having an entire two lanes to ourselves was somewhat boring. Sure, we made good time, but what to do? 

Why we did what any older retired folks might do early on a Saturday morning.

We grooved to the sounds of Meatloaf. It began with Sargie humming along with. Moments later, she began to sing with increased intensity. With eyes closed in music bliss, the girl began movin' and groovin' to the tunes.



I began laughing and soon joined her.  The volume was turned to the near maximum and we began having our own two-person dance party, well, as much as we could while driving. 

My Sargie became a front seat dancing queen. Where was Dick Clark and Casey Kasem when you needed them?

Fun is infectious, especially during grave times, and gyrating to the sounds of the 80's while on an empty interstate made the miles fly by.

Oh, shake it baby!

Southern Wisconsin saw about the same amount of traffic. 

None.



We flew up the interstate between Rockford, Illinois, and Janesville, Wisconsin, making record time on a corridor that normally sees bumper to bumper traffic.

As we traveled north, the traffic became somewhat heavier. By the time we reached central Wisconsin, driving had returned to normal and we were forced to end our dance party.



A quick stop was made at Aldi Foods where the absence of the crazies we'd witnessed further south was refreshing. Though somewhat crowded, our fellow shoppers were smiling, polite, courteous, and we found all the staples in abundance except... yep, toilet paper and corn flakes. 

I heard last night that there seems to be no shortage of tp in our local stores. I forgot to ask about corn flakes, THE most important survival commodity.

Dang.

 Well, one can only hope and pray.

Strangest thing. We found the price of gas declining as we headed further north and took advantage of the least expensive of our entire trip at a station just fifty miles from here on the Wisconsin/Michigan border.

Snow depth increased rapidly. There's still plenty on the ground at home.



Though spring is in the air, it's yet to arrive in the north country.

Last night was spent unpacking, warming the house, and freezing to death. The temperature in the living room was registering 80 degrees (with the wood stove blazing) yet Sargie and I were still cold. 

Seems our blood might have thinned in the seventy and eighty degree temperatures of the past three weeks.

With the aid of the circulation pump, the pond is showing signs of further opening.

Today officially begins maple season. I'm going to take a quick three mile stroll then begin unpacking the tapping equipment from storage. My goal is to collect and boil enough sap to make at least five gallons of delicious maple syrup. If that doesn't happen, I'm going to have some disappointed nieces.

I expect to see the Vice President in Charge of Maple Operations, Jambo, any day now.

OK, time to get walking. Monday begins my official spring diet with the goal of losing twenty pounds of Miss Jody's delicious southern cooking by summer.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Party down, Pawpaw!