The Escape
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2012 by terriblethom

I was watching the welding sparks at the gate, trying to think of anything else I could do to make my home safer if it really hit the fan. I had walked all the way around the outside of the walls about a month ago and other than where they had made my driveway, the rear of the walls were almost straight up on the outside of this valley. I remembered where I had found a little spring up next to the canyon wall. It was just a little trickle, barely wetting a small spot on the ground. Out of sheer curiosity I took the pick and shovel up to it and started digging a half moon circle down about fifteen feet from it. I had gotten down through the sand and rock till I had hit hard bedrock and couldn't go any further. I cleaned it completely out all the way to the wall before I started using the pick to dig out where the water was trickling from. I quit the first day after my back started hurting so bad I couldn't swing the pick anymore. So I rested and went back at it the second day going a lot slower and swinging it while on my knees. I had gotten almost a foot into the base of the cliff when a large flat rock which I couldn't break stopped me. By this time I was hurting so bad I could hardly swing the pick so I stuck my head into the small area and had a close look at the rock. I could see the dampness on it and wondered if it could be pried out by the wrecking bar, but I had to wait till one of the guys came back bringing more firewood as I knew my back couldn't take anymore.

Two days later when the guys showed up with a large load of wood, I asked them to give me a hand. It took them another hour of digging to get the rock out in the open far enough that we could pry on it to try to move it. It slid sideways as they pried and they were able to slide it out to show a small hole in the base of the wall. Water started running out before they could get the rock cleared away from the hole. We stuck the wrecking bar in the hole and it went all the way in without hitting anything. Must be a hollow spot in the cliff base, we thought. Anyway, the water was coming out in a steady stream, rapidly filling the hole I had dug. We spent the rest of the day stacking and mortaring flat stones to wall it in. We placed a piece of one inch pipe at the top to let the overflow run out on the ground. By the time we got the wall around it built, we had to open up the front part of it again because the mortar was washing out before it could dry. I told them I would finish it and to keep the firewood coming as long as they could.

Two days later I walked back to the spring. The ground for at least two hundred feet was a mud hole. The mortar had set up, but I could tell I would have to mix some more to coat the inside of the enclosure. I was able to finish that myself without ending up in the bed with my back killing me. It took another two days for it to set up because I had mixed some water sealant in the mortar and although it had set up, it seemed to be almost rubbery when it did. I stood there, trying to figure out some way to block the end up where it was flowing out, when I remembered that in the old days they used to put sluice gates in to control the water releasing for crops. I was looking at the open front when I remembered I had some short pieces of angle iron left over from when I built the bunks in the small bedroom. I pictured it in my mind and knew how I could do it. I chipped the rock on either side of the opening as straight as I could get it and drove the angle iron into the ground as far as I could get it. I then put the second piece on either side boxing the pieces together to make a slide I could slide a gate down in from the top. I sealed the spaces between the iron and sides with clear sealant. I measured the width and made the gate out of three quarter inch plywood scraps and coated it with five coatings of water sealant. I dug a groove at the bottom of the hole and slid the gate into the tracks and viola; I had a seal to stop the water. At the top of the gate I drilled a hole and put in an eight inch long piece of one inch PVC for the overflow. Of course ole dummy me, I had to drain it all again in order to pipe the water into the cabin. But, it was easier to do that than what I thought it would be. I now had plenty of water as well as almost an acre of thick grass that had grown downhill from the overflow pipe. It was the only green spot in the whole valley. I had plumbed my gray water from the sinks and shower to run out on the ground, but other than a big wet spot, I never did get any grass to grow there. I knew the septic for the toilet ran into a deep hole they had drilled for water, but after going down over eight hundred feet, it turned out to be a dry hole. They had drilled deeper at another spot but again they never found water, so the septic drained into these two holes. I didn't figure I would ever fill them up, but they were both marked so I could have them pumped out if that ever happened.

I had taken a sample of the spring water to the local health department and paid the small fee to have it tested. I was told that there were a few trace minerals and it was more than safe for human consumption. Then when they wanted me to pinpoint the water source for the records I told them it was at a windmill site and had been shut down for several years and the rancher had reopened the well 'cause the other one he was using had dried up. The question wasn't brought up again, so only a few people knew about the water source I had. I did have to measure and make a small plug to slow down the feed from the rock, but that just worked better for me as so much wasn't being wasted like it had been. The walled in tank stayed full, even with me using it steadily, and it was almost ice cold. When I decided to put a garden in, I could pipe from the overflow to irrigate.

I heard the welder shut down and looked up to see Zeke winding up the cables, so I went in, poured the last cup in the pot, and started another one. I had just set up the card table and was bringing out the pot and cups when Zeke pulled up in front and shut down the truck. I had the sugar and creamer out, but they all poured coffee in their cups without using it, and then sat down in the chairs in front.

 
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