Pit of Dreams

Vernon decided to try to work on finding the leak in the pipeline. I was to give him a head start as pulling his excavator out there would take a while. By the time I arrived, he’d torn up the ground, looking for the pipeline.

It was ooey and gooey and looked like it could make some decent pottery… but the expected pipeline was not there. We hemmed and hawed and got Daniel out there and the landowner, J. Might as well put a new can in, since no one knew where the old one was and we couldn’t find the old pipeline even though down always there is water in the pipeline. If this wasn’t a leak, might as well prepare it to put a tank on since the hole was dug. Right?

Vernon and I went out the next day. He’d formulated a plan overnight. There was an abandoned culvert down a ways… we could drag it out of the draw, cut it to “can size” (about 11’)… and install it…easy peasy. Suuurrrrre.

Turns out that culvert was down 30-40’! That’s Vernon down there wrapping a chain around it. I’m standing up above, shaking my head…. He crawls up out of there, gets in his excavator and I signal to pull! Goodness. My heart is still beating but sometimes I get a tad bit nervous on these things! We had to re-situate once, but we did it.

Why do I doubt him? Now to cut it to size. When the big saw doesn’t want to run… take out your little grinder and use a cutting wheel.

I drag the long piece with the side by side, he grabs the shorter piece and follows.

Time to set the can! The hole has filled with five feet of muddy water… and Vernon slides the can out into the middle and tries to stand it upright. He can’t quite reach it, so I grab a shovel, hand it over, and he pushes the can to a full upright position. “Can you hold it there?”

”Sure.”

I stand on the edge of the slippery bank, leaning out over muddy water, shovel in hand, with the metal wedged against the pipe. My mind says, “What the hell are you doing?” It is a precarious position, and if someone else was in my place, I’d have my camera out, recording it for posterity! But it’s me… so no photos… just me and my racing thoughts when the excavator curls practically over my shoulder, slithering down into the greasy water and expelling a load of dirt that sends a wave bumping into the metal can. Yikes! Vernon is moving the machine in slo-mo but still I’m amazed when each scoopful rocks the culvert. I’m holding on as best I can! Vernon inches the bucket curled up over the top and I remove my shovel. He’s trying to push down with the arm to force the pipe further down in the mud, but it doesn’t budge. I return the shovel to its support position and Vernon continues slowly to add dirt and mud back in the hole. I’m very grateful for Vernon’s gentle touch, a wrong move could tip the pipe over, knock me down or slosh me into a mud pit full of water! I tell myself if I do fall in, all I have to do is stand up… it’s not that deep! Finally…

Look!

Vernon (wearing his irrigating boots) stands on the open bucket, drills a hole into the can, and we cobble together some old discarded pipe and shove it in for a drainage pipeline. Pshshsht! Who needs new when duct tape will do?

Not much longer and the entire length has been covered. Oh, and the far end of the pipeline is laid in the short end of the culvert to protect it and make it easy to find when J. decides to develop it further.

We needed one of the old timers there to tell us how they ran the pipelines and where… but, sadly, that’s no longer an option. Maybe this little story will help in any future excavations or at least, make someone smile as they envision me perched on the edge of a very slippery slope, shovel extended, praying a bucketful of sludge won’t slop out creating a tsunami that washes me into a mud wrestler’s pit of dreams.

Find me here!

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