Essay | Maple Syrup–A Homesteading Tradition

AMHERST TOWNSHIP, FILLMORE COUNTY — On a chilly Sunday afternoon this winter, I was meandering the aisles of Farm & Fleet, aimlessly browsing in case the sight of something revived a distant memory of some tool or supply needed back at the homestead that didn’t get on my list.

Meandering at such stores can be an expensive form of exercise. 

Near the livestock section was an end cap stacked high with maple sap collection starter kits. One simple box contained everything needed. A drill bit, four taps, four bag holders and some extra bags. It even had a guide describing how to do it all from scouting the best maple trees to preserving and creatively using the hard-earned syrup.

The idea of making my own syrup floated through my mind once or twice before but was never a priority in life. I stood, studying the box, debating. 

Did I need a new hobby? No. 

Was I afraid tariffs on Canadian maple syrup would soon rob my family of the enjoyment of Sunday morning waffles and pancakes? Not at that time. 

Did I recall how much work it takes to make maple syrup? Yes. 

Despite it all, a box went into the cart. I figured it was a low-risk purchase. The box could sit neatly on the shelf for another ten years if time didn’t permit sap collection this spring once Mother Nature said it was time to go.

Lessons in patience

As with most food gathering activities, timing is everything. I spent a college spring break in Northern Minnesota on the White Earth Reservation where a small group of students traveled to volunteer for a few days. The White Earth Land Recovery Project maintained an impressive sap collection enterprise — a traditional activity for the Ojibwe.

We were there to provide some of the grunt labor needed to make it all go, but the weather didn’t consult our school calendar. Overnight temperatures hovered above freezing.

Although the sap wasn’t running, there was plenty of prep work to be done to prepare for the rush once it did start flowing. What else would you do with a group of young, spirited volunteers than send them off to collect and chop firewood to fuel the fire beneath the evaporator? 

Next up, the organizers had us relocate a massive pile of firewood that was quite fine in its original location. I assume it was their best idea to keep us occupied while yet another mild, muddy day came and went without hardly a drop.

When that was done, there were taps to check throughout the woods — making sure they were still snug in the holes. They had to get real creative in finding ways to entertain us.

On the final day of our visit, after a chilly overnight, we finally got to see the entire operation in full swing.

As the pails and bags slowly accumulated sap, a team of draft horses pulled a wagon through the woods, carrying a large bulk liquid container where all the sap was consolidated. The team effortlessly hauled it back to the sugar shack and into the evaporator.

By day’s end, there was enough syrup off the evaporator that we were able to celebrate with a full shot glass of pure and fresh maple syrup for everyone. The rest would be bottled and sold at their local store.

A full jar of this year’s freshly boiled Big Woods pure maple syrup. (Photo by Greg Schieber)

A family affair

Back here in the Big Woods, I walked past the starter kit daily. The mild finale to our winter and desire to get back outside was all the inspiration I needed to open it up.

The family and I took our four taps out to the woods once the forecast looked ripe. My winter tree identification skills are weak, but I found the characteristic opposite branching described in the guidebook.

My wife read aloud the step-by-step instructions as I drilled and tapped. We hung the holders with blue bags and retreated to the farm, uncertain when or if we might find success.

The next day the kids and I bolted down to the woods to scout it out. Nothing. The temperatures were too mild overnight to start the flow. We repeated the sprint a couple of more times before finding about a quart of sap.

Eventually the weather kicked in just right and all four taps were producing. I was hauling fuller and heavier 5-gallon buckets across the pasture and to the stovetop in the kitchen. In our trial run, we conceded to boiling it down indoors — though I understand how the best operations are fueled by wood outdoors. Regretfully the members of our homegrown firewood crew aren’t quite old enough to swing an axe, yet.

The kids all gathered around for the first taste. A quick finger streak across the bottom of the hot pan gave me enough sugar to realize we pulled it off. It tasted just right. They agreed.

It’s a well-known statistic that it takes about 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup. Our growing family might soon consume a gallon or two a year. I could already do the math.

Our four taps were producing about five gallons a day during peak flow. To do this correctly, I’ll need about 15 more taps so we can consolidate a larger quantity of sap and do a larger boil. More importantly, I’ll need an outdoor evaporator to more efficiently boil it down, especially if we try to increase sap collection. 

In usual fashion, my mind schemes on how to make the project bigger and better while my heart says, maybe it would be healthier to just eat eggs. 

© 2025 Greg Schieber