Forester

The Forester

I can picture "Woody" even now, sitting behind that small oak desk, in a pine paneled office at the Forestry Preserve in Sardinia, N.Y. Edward Woods is a thoughtful man, whose knowledge of woodland lore had made him a figure of some respect in the rural hinterlands surrounding the metropolitan area of Buffalo, N.Y. Ed was also the local Justice of the Peace. It made for a formidable presence in the area.

Every morning Ed would carefully enter the practical statistics of the day, the events of the season and many other interesting items into his personal journal. It was a carefully kept log that detailed his knowledge of his job and the environment, a continuing saga that had stretched over 37 years.

Although Ed had a four-year, University degree in Forestry and was conversant in many of the esoteric disciplines of Environmental Science, the flannel shirt and rugged countenance of the man labeled him as an outdoorsman. Even at a late age, Ed could swing an axe, build a barn or walk the wooded lots at an even pace with men much younger than his 60 years. His knowledge of field and stream was encyclopedic and his word was accepted as final authority on many matters large and small.

As a newly appointed Commissioner of Park's and Recreation for the County of Erie, Ed's Forestry Division came under my immediate supervision. Both of us knew that what little knowledge of Forestry that I, a city kid, possessed was more theoretical than practical. Still, the vagaries of life had placed me in charge of the outfit and Ed Woods welcomed me into his world with a graciousness that I still remember and appreciate. It was the beginnings of a several year association that blossomed into a genuine friendship with Ed and his lovely wife Betty after he had retired from the park service.

Ed rode herd over 7,000 acres of forested lots in many location and a 1,000 acre preserve of trees and hiking trails that included a working saw mill and a maple syrup producing facility. The lots needed continual thinning, posting from hunters and general maintenance. Like most of his work, every lot had a detailed file on the type of stand of tree planted, its history and whatever alterations had been made to it over the years.

Many of the trees that were "blow downs" or those that needed to be removed to provide growth, were skidded out of the forest lots and hauled away to our small sawmill on the forestry preserve. The sawmill annually produces some 50,000 board feet of raw lumber that is used by many of the operating departments of the County Government. Ed's men, like northwestern lumberjacks, would hew the timber and skid it to the mill for carving up with the big upright saw. The smell of newly milled hardwood lumber always attracted me to the place.

From Ed and his men I also learned the esoteric art of cooking and distilling maple syrup. On the Forestry Preserve, Erie County has a 1,000-acre stand of maple trees through which Ed and his men would yearly string several miles of flexible plastic tubing. At each maple tree, a metal spigot would be hammered into the bark and hooked up to the tubing. As the Seasons changed from Winter to Spring, the maple sap would start flowing in the trees. It would seep through the spigot and run downhill, by gravity feed, into our "sugar shack." It was then cooked down into delicious maple syrup. It could take some 40 gallons of sap to boil down into one gallon of the honey colored and fragrant syrup. And if you cooked it down even further, you could yield maple sugar candy.

Ed showed me the five grades of sap as they flowed in and commented upon the reasons for the coloration. As Spring approached, the clear sap would get cloudier and cloudier with nutrients for the tree. The resulting sap made a poorer and poorer grade of syrup. It was the flow from the first few days that was most desired. It was boiled down to an almost clear and very sweet maple syrup that was both much prized by everyone and very expensive to purchase. It was but one of many lessons that I was to learn from this patient and knowledgeable woodsman.

Every year thousands of school children from throughout the area would venture out to the Forestry Complex on Genesee Rd. in Sardinia and watch the men boil maple sap in our giant "cooker." We fired the vats with wood so the aroma of burning wood was always present. It was a warm and inviting smell that made the building seem homey and comfortable. The kids would hear a delightful tale from the Chief Park Ranger detailing how the Native Americans had first accidentally discovered maple sap with an errant arrow embedded in a maple tree. Then, each child would be invited to participate in a tasting of the sweet syrup, freshly boiled. I can remember their eager, smiling faces. Each was still flushed from the cold outside. They were clad in neon bright snow parkas and looked like a moving herd of bright pastel as they walked along the trail to the sugar shack. It reminded me of a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting. I much enjoyed the many times that I visited this magical place in the cold and hilly region of Southeastern Erie County.

It wasn't all fun though. Much of the forestry function is hard work. Several miles of hiking trails had to be maintained, wooden bridges over small streams and rivulets had to be kept in good repair. And of course Ed and his men were on constant call to remove dead trees from the other parks in the system. I can see them now, climbing high in the branches of a large, dead tree and patiently dismembering the wooded carcass to be sawed up and used for fire wood. Ed's men were rough and tumble and enjoyed their jobs immensely. And most of us enjoyed watching them work along side of us.

I visited the complex often throughout the four seasons and always tried to take away some piece of wood lore or information that Ed and his men patiently imparted to me. It was a working relationship with men who understood the land and the forests. I respected them for their knowledge and their hard work and will long remember "The Forester" for the unique and capable individual that he was. You find few like him these days in our parts. They are a vanishing breed that will be much missed by everyone.

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Joseph Xavier Martin