The rains came; the water went

Bill told me this morning about the Montana boulder the size of a car that ended up in Oregon's Willamette River valley a long time ago.

It got there after Glacial Lake Missoula burst through its ice dam and took off from what's now Montana at speeds of up to 60 mph. The Ice-age flooding episodes left a permanent influence on the present geology of the Northwest.

Now, I don't have the historical knowledge to reveal a lot more about that, but I do have firsthand experience this morning to discuss how "the force could be against you," when water pressure builds and finds a way to escape an enclosed area, much like that of the Great Lakes-sized Lake Missoula.

In this case, the area was much smaller and, from what I can tell, no topography has changed because of this natural overnight cataclysmic happening in our behind-the-barn yard. I also doubt that it will receive its place in history or that an institute will be funded to study just why the event occurred.

All I can say is that the rains came in great abundance, and the water escaped--almost all of it---from our Big Blue Pool.

I also know there was force behind it. I'm certain of that because the chlorine container, which used to float around the pool with its time-release pill, was in two pieces at least 20 feet from the flattened pool.

Lucky for us, no cats, turkeys or dogs were within the path when the inflatable side gave up and collapsed under the pressure of those 4,000-plus gallons of water.

We had an inkling of this catastrophe last night. I noticed water trickling over the edge of the pool which has been ever-so-gradually changing shape during the past several days. I walked to the north side of the pool and tried, in vain, to manipulate the rim so as to lure the water back that direction away from its pathway over the south rim.

When the pools are filled with more than 4,000 gallons of water, there's no manipulating. I already knew that from my previous consultation with my lawnmower repairman, Tony.

But, I always figure there's no harm in trying.

Bill had just gotten off the tractor at the machine shed when I hollered to him that the pool might go tonight. After all, it had been overloaded with buckets and buckets of torrential rains over the past two days.

Those extra buckets apparently caused consternation within, and like Mt. St. Helens, I'm sure the pool's stomach began to growl, causing the water to get agitated and eager to find a means to escape the wrath.

We walked off from the pool, both aware of what we may find in the morning. After all, more rains were coming. And, they did, generously so, during the night.

Sometime overnight, the pool gave way. Now, we have a patch of barnyard lawn, well-watered, and a flattened blue mass in the corner, wondering what comes next.

I'm wondering what comes next too, cuz I heard the temperature is gonna get back up to the 90s late next week. Do we want to fill the pool one more time? Is there a way we can level and manipulate this mass of vinyl so the water will stay put? Is it worth it this late in the summer?

I don't know the answer to those questions at this time, but I'm sure both Bill and I will ponder them.

Lake Missoula flooded several times until the ice dam receded to the north and ceased to be a factor. We don't really have a dam here. We can't count on any natural happenings preventing our blue pool from collapsing again under pressure.

We'll just have to figure it all out because we've got too much invested in water bills, sand, the pool and time to just let that vinyl sit there covering up all that grass that it has watered so generously.

Stay tuned. As promised before, there's bound to be much more to come in the ongoing saga of "The Blue Pool Blues."

There is one bright spot. I think our neighbors in a direct line and even the citizens of Oregon are safe from dealing with the consequences of our behind-the-barn calamities.