Drive - A Memoir 7th Installment
chose
to farm. Let me tell you about the farm in Hamer. First, the farm is
in Idaho that has to be one of the most rural states in the union.
The farm is a few miles away from a town with a population of 23 and
Hamer is 35 miles from a larger town.
They
bought Ace's farm in the middle of nowhere on the sandy flats
near the Arco desert when Russ was a few months old. The 250 acre
‘Ace Farm’ consisted of an old farm house with a seven acre field
on the edge of a half square mile of fenced off sage brush. The
farm’s irrigation right (something that is essential in the desert)
was unfortunately the last farm to get water on the Hamer canal’s
irrigation schedule. The canal, only a slight ditch at our place,
provided little water because the so called neighborly farms
up–stream were stealing so much water. When the water came, it just
washed down the sandy ditch banks, and our parents had to shovel full
time to try to get water to their crops. Desert sand always tries to
level out, become flat like water covered beaches on the east and
west coasts of this great country. The wind can blow sand dunes in
the desert like waves in the ocean, but the sand, like water, always
levels out. The first few years were lean as they fought for even
enough water so the weeds and grass sod would reinforce the ditch
banks.
Edith told us that
they couldn’t survive without more irrigation water, and so they
really needed to quit the canal company. In the lean times, because
of their experience in the water wars, Edith took the job as Hamer
Canal secretary to manage the canal’s operation and dues; Vernon
became the ditch rider. I rode with him when I was young and recall
that he would mark the water weirs height or count the number of
turns of the gate valve. He also made many drawings and charts of the
measurements so he could track water usage against the shares the
farmer had and could keep the water use fair. Many times, the next
day we would find the gates were changed. Vernon could track how
unscrupulous the neighbors were by the number of turns of the valves
as they stole water from the other farmers. Eventually he resorted to
heavy chains and even heavier locks to secure the water.
Eventually
Vernon and Edith had a well drilled on the high ground at the top of
the farm. I remember Bob, the local well driller, standing there for
hours with his hand on the cable as the machine pumped the cable up
and down pounding the heavy bit into the earth. He could tell exactly
what type of earth he was drilling through – clay or stone – by
his experience and the feel of the cable. Vernon was now able to
break in several more fields
500
more words tomorrow
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