The sap erupted at the end of January, two months earlier than normal. There had been no rain, so the rivulets of ice coursing between the furrows of King Park’s maple trees could only be frozen sap. It came apart in the hand with a slightly glutinous texture, and tasted distinctly sweet.
The sudden start of syruping season launched the members of the Urban Sap Tap project into action. Holes were drilled in trunks, spiles hammered 2½ inches deep, plastic receptacles hung with the group’s new logo, including a QR code with information about their new Park Board pilot program.
For the past six winters, an ad hoc collective of people who live in the King Field neighborhood of south Minneapolis have harvested sap from the maple trees in their own yards, getting together in the park to boil their spoils down into syrup. This winter they got the Park Board’s permission to tap the park’s maples, too, after convincing the forestry department they could do it without damaging the trees.
At the peak of sap production, Sarah Linnes-Robinson, a longtime neighborhood association leader, would empty the bags in the park at least once a day into 5-gallon buckets. She compared sap tapping to ice dipping on the lakes, another niche and quintessentially Minnesotan activity that wasn’t sanctioned by the Park Board until residents pushed for it.
“I think the Park Board is maybe trying to listen more to citizens and how they want to use the urban environment,” Linnes-Robinson said.

By bringing the rustic tradition of maple tapping out of backyards and into a major city park, the group hopes to share their hobby more widely — including with neighbors who don’t have maples and those who don’t own land.
The whole exercise is bit like making stone soup. Maple sap contains 98% water and just 2% sugar, meaning 40 gallons of sap cooks down into about 1 gallon of syrup. A single maple tree isn’t going to produce much, and no one household in the city has enough space for a sugar bush, or maple orchard. It quite literally takes a village to make enough syrup to serve the neighborhood a proper pancake breakfast, which the Urban Sap Tap group puts on in March to celebrate spring’s arrival after the trees bud and the sap dries. They raise just enough money to finance the following year’s tap.
But is there a conservation angle? Just a subtle one derived from the oft-quoted logic of Senegalese forester Baba Dioum: “In the end we will conserve only what we love, we will love only what we understand, and we will understand only what we are taught.”