by Deborah in the UP
One thing that is normally done when selecting a building site is to do a ‘perk test’, to make sure the ground will have adequate drainage for a septic system. This we did. No problems.
The next thing to do is drill a well, to make sure you have potable water near by. This we did NOT do. Big Problem. The house was built and we were living in it for four months before getting the well drilled. We had called long before, but in that area, well drillers are scarce and in high demand.. AND had to abide by road restrictions for all but a few months out of the year, because of the weight of their rigs. We were put on a waiting list. During those four months, one of us made trips, sometimes daily, to the artesian well three miles away, filling five gallon containers for drinking and washing.
When the well rig finally showed up in mid-August, we were delighted! They set up beside the house so the water would be close, the lines short and the power needed for the pump, minimal. They began the drilling, the clanging. The incessant clanging… My hours were filled with this teeth rattling, mind numbing steady beat. Hour after hour. Day after day. I found lots of excuses to be somewhere else. When they reached 265 feet without hitting water, they suggested they try ‘priming’ the well. The only water available was from the creek a mile away, so they filled a portable reservoir and tried… and tried. Finally giving up. I had one day of peace, one day reprieve, and they were back. And we really lucked out that they returned, as the owner wanted to move on to the next job!! They had already spent a week with us and he was giving up! His sons were working our job and refused to leave until we had water, thank goodness!
During the day they were gone, and all was quiet, I took a walk, relishing the peace, taking my chakra divining rods with me. My own inner sense took me back to where it all started, on that path to the seasonal creek and the little waterfall over fallen logs. There was water here, that was obvious, but where could we tap into it?? I started down the path, rods extended, they swiveled and spun.. Then they stopped, joined in an “X”. I found a few rocks to make a pile so I would know the spot. When the guys returned, I showed them where I wanted them to drill next. The rig was moved and carefully backed down the old logging road… and they started once again on the clanging and clanging.
To amuse ourselves while all this was going on, Pete and I discovered that the now abandoned, dry well near the house, had an echo. An echo that changed pitch with the size of stone we dropped down it and it bounced off the sides of the pipe. Like little kids, we spent too much time dropping pebbles, having fun… until the crew sealed the pipe. Bummer.
On the third day of the new site, they struck water at 89 feet. We were ecstatic! And that lasted until they said that now we had to dig the line or pay them to do it, at substantial cost. The distance? Just over three hundred feet, which also meant that the pump to carry the water from the well to the house, would have to be a large, deep submersible. Another bummer.
So we started digging…………..