In the Sugarbush

 By Viki Mather 

 April is maple sugar month in the north. Our sugarbush grows about two kilometres south of our little log cabin in the woods. 

I’m up early, just as the first rays of the sun begin to touch to tips of the trees. A glass of juice, pack lunch, prep skis, dress in layers of clothes so to keep warm in the morning, and peel away as the day warms.

Ski up the hill, through the woods, beyond the red oaks, then down the hill past the big white pines, through the valley, and up another hill. Just about everywhere, a half-metre of snow or more lays thick upon the land. Only a few bare patches of earth peek through where the rain washed it away last week.

Almost there and suddenly I remember . . . matches! I forgot to pick up matches! Will I have to go back? 

In the sugarbush I ski down the slope through the open maple forest. The buckets are mostly half full - indicative of a slow sap run the day before. When I get to the fire place, I put my hand in the ashes that remain from our last boil two days ago. Yes! There’s heat! I shred some birch bark and stir down through the remains of the ashes. Blowing gently, I find a few glowing coals. Who needs matches!

I fill the pans with sap from the storage drum, then feed the growing flames. While the first sap begins to boil, I take the collecting buckets back out to the trees.

A little ice formed in the buckets overnight. I pour the sap and shake the ice into my buckets. I can carry up to 10 litres in each - heavily - back to the fire. Top up the pans, feed the fire, strain the ice out of the new sap!

It takes nearly an hour to carry all the sap back to the boiling place – with time between trips to feed the fire, fill the pans, strain out the ice. I keep the ice in a separate bucket. The first water that drains off brings any residual sugar with it, so goes into the boiling process. The ice crystals that remain are pure water. Ten litres of ice means 1/2 hour less boiling time!

As I pour the last of the sap from the trees into the collecting bucket, the first drops of fresh new sap of the day begin to drop from the spiles. There is a wonderful drumbeat of sap echoing in the now empty jugs, like the heartbeat of the Earth.

By 9 a.m. the heavy chores are done. I can sit back by the boiler, filling the pans, feeding the fire, and sipping on a fresh cup of maple “tea”.

As I sat by the fire writing up this story, I got to thinking how nice it would be to share this experience with our guests. Next spring, we will be offering a “sugarbush holiday” probably during the second and third week of March. This can catch the first runs of the maple sap -  the purest and sweetest of the year. Drop a line if you are interested, and we’ll pencil you in!  lodge@kukagami.infosathse.com

Viki Mather is owner of Kukagami Lodge, a northern Ontario wilderness resort at the southern boundary of the Temagami forest. Web: www.kukagamilodge.com , e-mail: lodge@kukagami.infosathse.com Viki has lived in the wilderness for 25 years, without electricity or running water. Read these columns monthly to discover wonderful ways to live in harmony with nature, bring edible wilds into your kitchen, thrive without plugging into the grid, and enjoy a healthier life.