Sunday, March 22, 2015

The Maple Sugarin' Festival

About five miles east of West Bend there is a farm/nature center called Riveredge.  In the early spring they have a maple sugaring festival when you can see where maple syrup comes from and participate in all sorts of fun activities.  The boys started out with some bird watching while waiting for us to get registered.

They had a station where you could assemble your own pancake mix to take home, and another where you tasted two different syrups and had to guess which was real maple syrup and which was fabricated stuff.  The boys guessed correctly.

Then, to their delight, it was time to climb aboard a small shuttle bus that would take us to the sugar bush.  They chose to sit together in the small seat at the back.

The tour through the sugar bush included all sorts of fun experiences to teach about Native American culture and tradition.  At the first station the boys made--or supervised the making of--their very own dream-catcher.

Eliot tried his hand at it and both boys selected their own yarn and feathers.

Peter felt right at home in the wigwam.

Then it was off to see where all this maple syrup comes from.  The bucket hanging from the tree was particularly interesting.

At one of the spiles a woman shared the legend of the little mouse who helped a boy find the sweet  and nourishing sap of the sugar maple during a particularly harsh winter.  The discovery saved the boy, his grandmother, and his people from starvation.


Everyone was invited to try the sap, catching it on their finger or tongue.  Eliot was unimpressed.  He thought it tasted like water (which it sort of did) and Peter was far more interested in the maple sugar that the guide shared with us.

As we wended our way the boys got to try their hand at tapping a tree, and then we found ourselves in a little shed (Peter said it looked like a fire house) where sap was vigorously boiling down into syrup.  It was a great chance to warm up a bit.

The tour ended with a sample of the fresh syrup on a buckwheat pancake.

Both Eliot and Peter gobbled down the pancake.  When, upon returning like Oliver Twist for a second helping, they were informed that it was just one per person tears were shed.  They did serve lunch for a reasonable price (the pulled-pork sandwich with maple bar-b-q sauce was to die for) and apparently next weekend they are holding an all-you-can-eat pancake breakfast, so we'll be going back.










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