Monday, October 08, 2007
Fun with fear:
The spillway of the pond I live by sprung a leak at the very bottom. After the water dropped about five feet, it stabilized, giving me time to think of what to do. Not having a clear idea of the solution, I procrastinated a good month. Dragging out the boat just seemed like too much trouble, so I elected to do what any 10 year old would do: Crawl through the three foot diameter pipe under the dam into the spillway and do the work there.
So be it.
Cutting briars away from the mouth of the pipe for a few minutes opened the way. So I stood there and looked. And looked. After a comforting walk back to the house to fetch a flashlight in a plastic bag, I fidgeted around for a while thinking about that creepy dark conduit. Twenty minutes of arranging and re-arranging my cargo later, I climbed in and made my way to the spillway, itself a little creepy, since I was standing essentially under water that's only kept out by a bunch of boards that close the gap in concrete walls. I figured I wouldn't drown with ten feet of water coming in, but I'd probably get skinned up pretty good going through that pipe at 20 miles an hour. That idea always gives me the creeps, not to say anything about memories from childhood of water moccasins laying around the mouth of the pipe I just cleared. It was shady and cool so I didn't think they'd be waiting for me. Well, probably not.
I arrived at my destination lugging fifty pounds of old pink double bed blanket, totally soaked from its trip through the pipe. I couldn't keep it out of the water because my other hand was occupied carrying a machete. Just in case. I wanted to be able to deal with whatever was in that pipe that I could see while holding the flashlight in my mouth. Of course, I wouldn't drop the light while screaming.
There was the leak, a jet of water at the bottom, shooting into standing water, noisily churning it away.
I climbed up the inside of the boards that cover the gap. Forty-five year old re-bars, set in the concrete and spanning the gap behind the boards, some rusted thin, provided a suspicious ladder. A hunk of brick in folded in one corner of the blanket to make it sink it where I wanted was tied in place with a thin rope. Using the rope, I lowered the blanket into the water in front of the boards, slowly letting it sink down the face toward the leak. The rope payed out slowly and then zip: The churning stopped. I looked down and a wad of blanket was sticking into the now quiet standing water. Presto: Leak fixed.
That took about five minutes.
I wonder what the month and the twenty minutes were for?
The spillway of the pond I live by sprung a leak at the very bottom. After the water dropped about five feet, it stabilized, giving me time to think of what to do. Not having a clear idea of the solution, I procrastinated a good month. Dragging out the boat just seemed like too much trouble, so I elected to do what any 10 year old would do: Crawl through the three foot diameter pipe under the dam into the spillway and do the work there.
So be it.
Cutting briars away from the mouth of the pipe for a few minutes opened the way. So I stood there and looked. And looked. After a comforting walk back to the house to fetch a flashlight in a plastic bag, I fidgeted around for a while thinking about that creepy dark conduit. Twenty minutes of arranging and re-arranging my cargo later, I climbed in and made my way to the spillway, itself a little creepy, since I was standing essentially under water that's only kept out by a bunch of boards that close the gap in concrete walls. I figured I wouldn't drown with ten feet of water coming in, but I'd probably get skinned up pretty good going through that pipe at 20 miles an hour. That idea always gives me the creeps, not to say anything about memories from childhood of water moccasins laying around the mouth of the pipe I just cleared. It was shady and cool so I didn't think they'd be waiting for me. Well, probably not.
I arrived at my destination lugging fifty pounds of old pink double bed blanket, totally soaked from its trip through the pipe. I couldn't keep it out of the water because my other hand was occupied carrying a machete. Just in case. I wanted to be able to deal with whatever was in that pipe that I could see while holding the flashlight in my mouth. Of course, I wouldn't drop the light while screaming.
There was the leak, a jet of water at the bottom, shooting into standing water, noisily churning it away.
I climbed up the inside of the boards that cover the gap. Forty-five year old re-bars, set in the concrete and spanning the gap behind the boards, some rusted thin, provided a suspicious ladder. A hunk of brick in folded in one corner of the blanket to make it sink it where I wanted was tied in place with a thin rope. Using the rope, I lowered the blanket into the water in front of the boards, slowly letting it sink down the face toward the leak. The rope payed out slowly and then zip: The churning stopped. I looked down and a wad of blanket was sticking into the now quiet standing water. Presto: Leak fixed.
That took about five minutes.
I wonder what the month and the twenty minutes were for?
# posted by goldpython @ 7:29 PM 
