Dartmouth Sugar Shack
Middle of March is usually the end of maple sugaring season. I’ve almost managed to spend four years at Dartmouth without ever visiting its maple farm [1].
This post was long in the making because for the longest time, I wanted to write about my experience at the farm. At first, I wanted to write a story - a fictional one from the perspective of the cute dog who decided that we were his best friends for the brief few hours we were there. This failed miserably because there are not many things that I’m worse at than creative writing. Then I wanted to write an informational post because for the longest time my dream was to become a contributor to National Geographic, and I figured this was as good of a place to start as any. The problem with that plan, however, was three-fold: a) apparently, my non-fiction writing is only marginally better than my fiction-writing. B) I don’t really know much about maple sugaring, other than the basic facts we learned from Reyn. Finally (c, if you’re still keeping track), I felt that, in my brief visit there, there was no story. Or rather, not the one I felt personally connected to.
Sure, I could have written about how climate changes are impacting maple sugaring, but quite frankly I don’t know too much about it and I’m not the affected party. Neither are the students I was talking to — they loved it and it was a part of their college experience, but even without it, the life goes on. I wanted to write about the educational experiences, but I didn’t have any. There are many things one could write about there, friendships, work, discipline, but I decided that the best thing that I can do to do it justice is simply to show what it is and how I’ve seen it.
For me, it was like stepping in an alternate world. These were the same students that walked the same study halls and libraries as I did, and yet we couldn’t have been more different. While I waked up to take a jump in a communal bath to end up at the place where I started from a little bit faster every morning, they woke up at (likely the same) ungodly hour to go play with the dogs and make the magical pancake-juice. I’m not sure what their world looked like, and how big part the sugaring farm played in their lives and/or college careers. Instead of a story then, here are a few photographs that can hopefully take you to that little cottage in the woods. While I’m locked in my apartment for week 2 of nationally-prescribed quarantine, I’m remembering and missing the smell of the flames and the taste of unprocessed maple sap and hopefully, these photos can take you there as well.
The sugaring house (called “the sugar shack” by people whom work there) is located across from the field across from the Dartmouth Organic Farm. You can only see it once you’re close by. In my case, I smelled it before I’ve seen it.
People were already waiting for me there.
But the first one to welcome me was a local dog. One of the friendliest golden labs I’ve met to date.
Tamy was already sampling the sap with homemade vegan pancakes she brought.
Reyn explained to us how the grading system for maple syrup was determined, and to my surprise it is almost completely arbitrary. The colours are compared to a previous years’ Grade-A syrup, and the colour is then eyeballed against the light to dete…
Reyn was going to take us to show around the farm. She had put on her fancy unique hand-made sweater (whilst I was an amateur and had full-on winter gear).
The dogs didn’t want to go though - they chose the place close to fire and didn’t move much.
The sap is collected mostly automatically - lines are set in the forrest that go from tree to tree.
And where dogs (or wild boars) chew through the line, repairs are done in an … interesting way.
I made a friend - as long as I provided ear-scratches…
…although she found someone closer to the ground.
The shack can be easily seen from the maple farm as it is situated in the valley. There is a sap reservoir at the back and gravity pulls the sap from the lines to it. I love how the sleds add the pop of colour to otherwise monochromatic environment.
The sap from the reservoir above is then dumped into the evaporator. This one is a fancy wood-powered cast iron one from Vermont. If I understand correctly, each one of these is custom made. Feeding it correctly and constantly is probably the most important job in the shack.
In the end, here are a few pictures of students working in the shack …
… some of them came on crutches, being sledded over ice and deep snow.
Good bye for now - I really hope to come back again. Hope you’ve enjoyed this visual journey.
[1] what do you mean, your school doesn’t have a maple farm