open a channel downstream a ways. Tell you what, let’s do that first so we don’t have to work in standing water. We are going to have to rent a dump truck to move this mud to a safe place so it doesn’t wash down the creek any more than necessary.”
She asked, “How did this get buried this way? Surely someone didn’t fill it in, did they?”
“In the early 1900s, and up until about WWII, many people grew cotton on these hills. That was the time before soil conservation was an issue. There was no contour plowing—rows might run up and down hill as much as around. As you can imagine, erosion was horrific. Any heavy rain moved thousands and thousands of tons of soil from hillsides into streams. Clear, clean, fast flowing streams became choked with silt. Mud replaced rock and gravel bottoms and fish species shifted. This stream had a rock and gravel bottom at one time, now it is under five or six feet of silt.”
John looked at his watch. “It’s about lunch time. Let’s go eat, see about a dump truck or trailer, and get my surveying tools. We might as well do this right the first time since there’s much more involved than just cleaning out the spring. We’ll have to determine how far downstream we have to open a channel to get proper drainage.”
As silt was removed, the true extent and craftsmanship of the work became evident. Rocks were sized and carefully fitted together and held with cement. The spring pool itself was the ten by six feet as revealed by probing. A surprise was the depth, almost ten feet. They discovered a vertical drop outlet under the five foot wide walkway to the original streambed. Cleaning the outlet dropped the pool level to about seven feet, leaving a three foot wall around the entire pool.
“I bet when this was built, the spring formed a waterfall to the streambed. Somebody built this to create the pool. It might have been used for cool storage of milk and other perishable products. Often a springhouse was built over the pool, though I don’t see any indication of a house here,” John observed.
Jenny asked, “How are we going to get all the silt out of the pool itself? The backhoe doesn’t reach the bottom and we don’t want to damage any of the stonework by using bigger equipment. Guess we could dig it out by hand, but that would be lots of work.”
He thought a minute then said, “A two or three inch pump will suck it out clean without stirring the mud so we can’t see. We can rent the pump and have the job done in a few hours instead of spending days trying to dig it out by hand, which by the way would be a chilly job.”
The pump proved to be a successful idea. Not only was the mud sucked quickly out of the pool, but the discharge was pumped to a small low area in an adjacent field instead of being hauled in the dump trailer, much faster and cleaner as well. The pump was also used to thoroughly clean the wall, walkway and other stonework.
Jenny got her spring pool and picnic area just by cleaning the existing work and then constructing a stone bench. The local paper got wind of the project and ran an article on it, stirring interest in other sites that might exist around the county.
The spring pool became one of their special places. John knew she almost always stopped for a few minutes on her daily ride. They often ate lunch in the cool shade when they were working in the fields. It was a pleasant place for relaxing after a long day or a nice spot for a moonlight dinner.
* * * *
One hot, hot summer day during haying they were eating lunch at the spring pool when he threw back his head and laughed in a most diabolical way. “What on earth are you laughing about that’s so funny? I don’t know if I like the tone of that laugh at all. You got something going on in that handsome head of yours?”
In answer, he grabbed her and tossed her into the pool—boots, clothes, hat and all. She squealed when she hit the cold water. The shock took her breath away
She asked, “How did this get buried this way? Surely someone didn’t fill it in, did they?”
“In the early 1900s, and up until about WWII, many people grew cotton on these hills. That was the time before soil conservation was an issue. There was no contour plowing—rows might run up and down hill as much as around. As you can imagine, erosion was horrific. Any heavy rain moved thousands and thousands of tons of soil from hillsides into streams. Clear, clean, fast flowing streams became choked with silt. Mud replaced rock and gravel bottoms and fish species shifted. This stream had a rock and gravel bottom at one time, now it is under five or six feet of silt.”
John looked at his watch. “It’s about lunch time. Let’s go eat, see about a dump truck or trailer, and get my surveying tools. We might as well do this right the first time since there’s much more involved than just cleaning out the spring. We’ll have to determine how far downstream we have to open a channel to get proper drainage.”
As silt was removed, the true extent and craftsmanship of the work became evident. Rocks were sized and carefully fitted together and held with cement. The spring pool itself was the ten by six feet as revealed by probing. A surprise was the depth, almost ten feet. They discovered a vertical drop outlet under the five foot wide walkway to the original streambed. Cleaning the outlet dropped the pool level to about seven feet, leaving a three foot wall around the entire pool.
“I bet when this was built, the spring formed a waterfall to the streambed. Somebody built this to create the pool. It might have been used for cool storage of milk and other perishable products. Often a springhouse was built over the pool, though I don’t see any indication of a house here,” John observed.
Jenny asked, “How are we going to get all the silt out of the pool itself? The backhoe doesn’t reach the bottom and we don’t want to damage any of the stonework by using bigger equipment. Guess we could dig it out by hand, but that would be lots of work.”
He thought a minute then said, “A two or three inch pump will suck it out clean without stirring the mud so we can’t see. We can rent the pump and have the job done in a few hours instead of spending days trying to dig it out by hand, which by the way would be a chilly job.”
The pump proved to be a successful idea. Not only was the mud sucked quickly out of the pool, but the discharge was pumped to a small low area in an adjacent field instead of being hauled in the dump trailer, much faster and cleaner as well. The pump was also used to thoroughly clean the wall, walkway and other stonework.
Jenny got her spring pool and picnic area just by cleaning the existing work and then constructing a stone bench. The local paper got wind of the project and ran an article on it, stirring interest in other sites that might exist around the county.
The spring pool became one of their special places. John knew she almost always stopped for a few minutes on her daily ride. They often ate lunch in the cool shade when they were working in the fields. It was a pleasant place for relaxing after a long day or a nice spot for a moonlight dinner.
* * * *
One hot, hot summer day during haying they were eating lunch at the spring pool when he threw back his head and laughed in a most diabolical way. “What on earth are you laughing about that’s so funny? I don’t know if I like the tone of that laugh at all. You got something going on in that handsome head of yours?”
In answer, he grabbed her and tossed her into the pool—boots, clothes, hat and all. She squealed when she hit the cold water. The shock took her breath away
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