I started making maple syrup when I was just seven years old. My grandfather happened to have a few stray buckets lying around and even though my grandfather didn’t make it at the time, I was determined to start making it. I started out with just ten buckets, collected the sap all on my own, and boiled it in my mom’s pots. It took me quite a while to perfect my craft, but after dozens of overflowed buckets, burnt batches, and three long days of boiling, I finally made my first quart of syrup. I know it doesn't sound like much, but I was proud of it at the time. Trust me, it was a struggle, but you gotta start somewhere, right?
For me, making syrup is all about the passion. When it comes to the smaller sugarhouses, it’s not about the money, but it’s the tradition and the passion.I can’t think of any other way to describe it other than that it’s a labor of love.There’s just something so special about making maple syrup from tapping trees. It really is a miracle, a true gift from God. Any of the profits that I do make from selling my syrup or maple products go right back into the business. It’s a never ending cycle that we’re in just so we can continue to grow and stay afloat. I’d say that the reason I continue to make maple syrup is definitely because of my passion for it, but also because of the strong social aspect surrounding it. Whenever the steam rolls out the chimney, people from all over stop in to be a part of the process. They all gather around the evaporator, I put a pot of coffee on the stove, and we really come together over this tradition. My father still insists on cutting all the wood by hand to fuel the evaporator, just happy to be a part of it all.
The sugaring community is always looking out for one another and happy to help any way they can. Even though we all run our own sugar houses, it really is a team effort. In 2014, I broke my leg at work right after we took the leap to buy a new evaporator. I was sure I was gonna have to return the evaporator and miss a year of sugaring. Believe it or not though, once people started hearing the news that I might be taking a year off and missing out on something I love, a bunch of my friends all came together and drove up to northern New York to pick up the evaporator and truck it all the way back home. They put it together themselves, tapped a few trees and set up some lines just so I wouldn’t have to miss out on a single season. That really meant a lot to me. Together, we made fifty gallons that year.
My kids live all over the country now, so we always encourage schools to take field trips to our sugarhouse so we can teach the children about the process. I really believe it has a positive impact on them, and I love teaching people about this craft and how unique it really is. Whenever kids come to visit, I let them decorate their buckets with sidewalk chalk and pick out their very own tree to tap. Then, we drill a hole, put the tap in, and hang the bucket. They get to watch the sap drip right into their buckets and they’re always amazed by it. That tactile experience instills a real strong sense of curiosity and appreciation for nature. Nowadays, smaller sugarhouses are dying out as the larger corporations start to take everything over, so I think it’s important that more and more kids become inspired and start making syrup on their own to keep the tradition of the craft alive.
The syrup my wife and I produce is more than just a product. It brings people together and holds a great deal of symbolism. While one of our sons was deployed in Kuwait, we would send him bottles of syrup to remind him that he was in our thoughts and prayers. For him to be able to have a taste of home, something that was crafted by hand with love and lots of hard work, he was definitely comforted by it, and he was able to share it with his friends. Any small sense of stability was of immense important to those men, and that small bottle of maple syrup was able to fill a void in their lives. Not many things can do that.