As soon as the weather permitted we began gathering everything for the pond. Last year we put the second pipe in and buried it four times. The pond flooded over and washed truck loads of dirt away. Finally we dug an outlet on the far end of the pond so the pond could simply overflow. Who would have guessed it was going to overflow six or seven more times and start washing the other end of the pond out? Seriously.
In March my brother and I took two pipes too small for the big pond on the other side of the farm. The dam is busted completely out and will take an immense amount of work to fix. The idea is these undersized pipes will become the overflow pipes for the frog pond.
There is already a metal pipe at the frog pond. The previous owner thought it was a great idea to take the larger pipe first and put a smaller pipe in it. Complete wipe-out.
This all sounds complicated. It was even worse getting it done. The first pipe was on the opposite side of the frog pond. The path was too slick, muddy or steep so using a lot of chain and some boards we finally got the pipe in place. The tractor had to pull from the road above. The pipe landed too far into the pond. The plan was to dig a little and then wiggle it into place.
The weather had other plans. The pipe was in the overflow ditch when the rain came down in buckets. The water lifted the pipe and overflowed the pond completely. Another truck load of dirt was swept downstream. The pipe floated eight feet backwards until the water could gush through it. More erosion. Sigh.
After digging more dirt off the banks to make a ramp so I could get on the dike, I dug the trench for the pipe. My brother helped lay it in place and bury it over. Now we had to get the next set of pipes in place.
Okay, to make a long story short, we dragged an eighteen foot pipe weighing over seven-hundred pounds through the cow pasture in low-gear, four-wheel drive and backwards. We backed a flat trailer under it after we lifted the pipe on one end with the tractor bucket. Using five heavy ratchet straps we tied the metal sausage in place. The end of the pipe hung six feet off the end- touching the ground.
“Hey, Bro,” I said, “how about jumping in the back of the truck to see if we can at least get it off the ground?” The idea gave us half an inch and away we went. It was a quarter of a mile to the pond. I waited to hear the pipe scrape the road surface; a cop come down the highway or the pipe slide off going up the hill, then slither down into Route 218 and take out a vehicle, probably loaded with a million dollar cargo. None of that happened. When you have our luck you go for the worst case scenario and skip the small stuff.
While my brother undid the ratchets I walked back to get the tractor. The idea was to attach a chain to the end of the pipe, lift, then drive the trailer out from under it. “Ta-Da!” It worked. Giving the pipe a push it was down over the bank and we were out of daylight. The next day we repeated the scenario with the much lighter plastic pipe.
After lining up the pipes we filled the gap between the two with concrete. Between the initial overflow pipe and these two pipes is an angle that is going to require a homemade concrete box. The argument is how to build the mold. While this dilemma is argued I decided to get started on burying the pipes. Four weeks later it still has not been decided, so, you know this country bumpkin is going to dump some cement in the hole and call it a box, right? Just saying.
On Wednesday, June 13, I tapped the first pile of dirt in place on top of the dike where it had overflowed a month ago; taking another truckload of dirt down stream. Considering I have a small bucket on the John Deere we named, JD; it was a lot of work washed down the creek. I am a bit eager to get this area built up; now that I can reach it safely.
The family took a short vacation and most of us were away from the farm for four days. The sad running joke is, whenever I leave the farm something dies. It has happened every trip for three years. This time we made sure the farm had a babysitter. The renters took precautions to keep an extra eye on their animals and the farm. Came back and not so much as a chicken was missing. Yes.
Monday morning found me taking pictures of the pond progress. I stood on top of the dike where my last pile of dirt was. My eye caught what looked like several white mushrooms. I thought to myself, “How did mushrooms grow that fast in my dirt?” A moment later I am thinking…”Nah, can’t be.”
Suspicious, I investigated. Giving the “mushrooms” a tap my suspicion was confirmed. Big Bertha, the snapping turtle, had laid her eggs in the middle of my days work! The rain had opened the ground just enough for me to see a few of the top eggs. Only on Greene Acres could this happen.
Okay, yes, I could eat them. Someone told me turtle eggs are delicious. The thought crossed mind. Unfortunately, I love nature. I have lots of chicken eggs. Turtles are good for the environment. It takes many years for a turtle to grow to the size of Big Bertha. Many of the eggs would probably not hatch. If they hatch, predators could pick them off. If we decide to put fish in the pond we might be picking them out of the pond. We were years from the idea. It would be kind of unique to see them hatch. I mean, how long could it possibly take?
“Eighty to a hundred-twenty days!” I yelped at the computer screen. “Good grief, Charlie Brown!” Of course, I had to show the family the turtle eggs and make a little video before officially covering them over and tucking the nest out of sight. I mean, how many people get to see a nest of turtle eggs?
Guess we will just have to work around the babies as best we can. At least she did not lay them in the hole where we have to pour concrete.
Bertha’s tail is at least ten inches long. The flower heads on her foot are nearly three inches to give you an idea of her size. As she was pretty cranky measuring her was not something my fingers were going to do, but we figured her shell has to be near eighteen inches.