As of noon today, we have a water well on The Mountain.
I’m not superstitious, but our Friday began with a good omen — for some reason, and despite a morning low of 24°F, Ernie’s electric heat pumps ran through the night. Technically, that’s not possible. It shouldn’t’ve happened.
And yet it did. We felt charmed.
Rounding the bend toward the homesite later, we drove through a respectably large puddle. I glanced to my left toward the drilling rig and could see a small stream coming from its base. A quick check with the boss confirmed that the crew had hit water around 720 feet.
The flow rate at that depth was 7gpm (gallons per minute) — not quite as high as he wanted. He said they’d go a little deeper and see if flow improved.
We had a little after-storm cleanup to do, so we drove up to the shed and grabbed Deb’s DeWalt electric chainsaw. (It seemed like the better option today.) Two small red cedars were leaning over the road at the northeast corner of our property and a third had uprooted.
I’d just finished taking care of the last one when Deb got a text — 10gpm at 782 feet. Drilling was done.
That was short of the 850 feet we’d planned for, and over $1,500 less expensive than we figured on. We still need to have the pump installed and run the line to the foundation, which the same outfit will do after we bring electric onto the site.
We stood back and watched the crew pull up and stow the drill, piece by piece, clean up the area as much as possible and roll down the road.
In a fit of spontaneity, on our way out of town we detoured to Fred Berry Crooked Creek Nature Center. It was kind of a celebration thing. We had the time, and we’re glad we took the time.
Getting our well drilled puts us past a big hurdle and removes a financial question mark from what we have in front of us. We move forward from here.
Next up: foundation.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.