All over Vermont small, family-owned sugarhouses lie tucked into hillsides. Some haven鈥檛 been used in decades and at others, families are still producing maple syrup like they have for generations.No one really knows how many sugarhouses there are in the state 鈥� or some of the family histories that are tied to the funky wooden structures. But there鈥檚 a
Over the past 120 years or so, the Hartshorn family has been boiling sap at one of four different sugarhouses strung out along the steep hillsides leading up Lincoln mountain in Warren.
Paul Hartshorn, 84, says he remembers working as a kid down at the one that sits along what鈥檚 now Lincoln Gap Road.
鈥淢y granddad run that one for a long time,鈥� Hartshorn said while gathering sap one recent spring day. 鈥淎nd then my aunt came up and boiled for him. And we gathered his sap for him and he watched it.鈥�
The shack sits down an embankment, along a brook, with weathered wood siding that makes it clear that this is no modern, pre-fab structure.
The pavement curves around it, as if the town wanted to preserve the sugarhouse when it was laying out the road.
It鈥檚 been more than 50 years since any maple syrup was produced there, but a couple of years ago, Hartshorn says his brother jacked it up, and put a new roof on to try to preserve it.
鈥淚t was granddad鈥檚 and we kind of wanted to keep it,鈥� Hartshorn said. 鈥淚t鈥檚 kind of a family thing. And to me it鈥檚 鈥� I don鈥檛 know what you鈥檇 call it 鈥� but ... sentimental, I guess, ayup.鈥�
There was a time when every family farm in Vermont had it鈥檚 own sugarhouse.
And here in the Mad River Valley, Hartshorn says it was a sure sign of spring, when the sap started running and the sugarhouses came to life.
鈥淚 probably could list 50 in the valley that I know of that were running when I was a kid,鈥� Hartshorn said. 鈥淎yup. You could drive around the valley and see steam coming up everywhere 鈥� everywhere. And now, I think one outfit is making more syrup than was made in the whole valley, at the time.鈥�
"I probably could list 50 in the valley that I know of that were running when I was a kid. Ayup. You could drive around the valley and see steam coming up everywhere - everywhere." - Paul Hartshorn, sugarmaker
Vermont is producing as much maple syrup now as it did when just about every small farm had its own sugarhouse.
Last year, more maple syrup was produced here in the state than anywhere else in the country; a record-breaking 2.2 million gallons.
But a lot of it is being produced by large commercial companies, such as The Maple Guild in Island Pond, which is billed as the largest privately owned maple operation in the world.
Dori Ross ran a maple syrup business in the Mad River Valley for about 10 years. She says, as commercial maple syrup operations get bigger and old timers get out of the business without having the next generation take over, Vermont stands to lose an important part of its history.
鈥淵ou know there aren鈥檛 many bucket operations anymore. And a lot of these old sugarhouses are just being forgotten or taken down,鈥� Ross said. 鈥淎nd these great big almost factory-looking buildings are being created because there are some really big outfits now in the industry.鈥�
Even as maple syrup becomes somewhat easier to produce, with backyard enthusiasts investing in modern equipment, those historic sugarhouses are being lost.
To prevent that, Ross is now leading an effort to record and catalog sugarhouses across the state, and funnel historic preservation money toward saving the ones that are still in operation.
The state-funded Barn Preservation Program has invested about $3 million into more than 360 barns and agricultural buildings around the state. It was established in 1992.
Ross wants some of that money to go towards saving sugarhouses.
She鈥檚 working with the University of Vermont to create a webpage with photographs of the sugarhouses, and interviews with the families that have boiled down maple sap in them.
鈥淭he overall objective is to have the most comprehensive list of all of these sugarhouses, regardless of age,鈥� Ross said. 鈥淎nd that history is going to get lost. And if it鈥檚 not documented by someone, it鈥檚 going to be a huge loss, I think, for the state of Vermont.鈥�
Paul Hartshorn鈥檚 son, David, runs the business today, though his dad still drives the truck around to gather sap.
David says when he was growing up, everyone in the family helped out.
They鈥檇 eat supper in the sugarhouse when the sap was running, and he says he spent many nights there as a young boy, while his parents turned that clear sap into sticky, sweet maple syrup.
"My mother would do the boiling while everybody was gathering,鈥� he said. 鈥淎nd at the end of the day, as a little kid, I would climb in a syrup box and make it my home for the night. And I just remember all night long hearing the ladle hitting across the pan and the syrup run off, and the smell of sap and syrup. And I just remember that as a little kid. I鈥檒l always hear that.鈥�
The Hartshorn鈥檚 have their own modern sugarhouse now down along Route 100, where the tourists can stop by to see the sap boiling and pick up some syrup.
David said his son has a fulltime job, and isn鈥檛 interested in giving over his early spring to making syrup.
He says he might be the last generation in his family to remember the sugarhouses up here on Lincoln Mountain.
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