Cooper and BobCat's Most Excellent Adventure

Saturday dawned bright with mild temperatures hovering at the +2C mark.  It was the perfect opportunity to go and check how the drainage work for Highway 30 was progressing on the mid-point of our property.  We've seen the equipment off in the distance, and what looks like piles of snow pushed aside, so it was time for an inspection.

With Cooper leading and BobCat in tow, we started out:

Here is a little oak tree we planted in our hedgerow.  Check out the little bird's nest!  This tiny tree comes up to my hip, if that.  The nest probably belongs to a song sparrow.  Of all the trees to choose from, I'm not sure why he or she didn't set their sights higher.

The excavation work for the drainage of Highway 30 isn't supposed to begin before February 20th.  Why this little tree has already been bulldozed down is beyond me:

I'm sure by the end of this drainage fiasco, we'll find even more trees damaged or bulldozed over, since the work hasn't even technically started.  Well.  It looks like someone's been having fun driving the bulldozer around by the looks of the snow piled up on  the right side of the photo:

So far, we've received 3 registered letters about the work, plus Eric's attended one meeting, so we can't say we weren't warned.  The engineers do what consultants do best, which is dot their i's and cross their t's.  Maybe someone should have informed the excavation company that they were supposed to be accessing the ditch from the other side, don't you think?  Or am I the only one who knows how to read a map?

Getting back to business.  Note BobCat in the above photo.  The big tub normally abandons us at this point, if not well before.  Today, he must have been in a good mood, because he decided to tag along.  My goal is to make it to the construction of the actual highway which is just beyond the far end of our property.  We need to walk 1300m to get there.  The above marks our approximate half-way point.

With Cooper following his nose and BobCat trailing a few steps behind, we make our way to the end of our field and into our woods.  In the 10 years I've lived here,  I've walked to the end of the woods exactly once, and I didn't even do it on our property - I followed a trail on a farm a few properties over.  Today, we're trailblazing.

It looks like a Pileated Woodpecker's been here recently.  I didn't see any birds today, but I did hear a crow calling.  The woods were quiet - there were no coyote tracks, no deer tracks - just a few fox and bunny tracks.

I wonder if this is a bunny den?  The tracks lead right into it, but I didn't want to disturb it.  There's enough disruption with all the heavy-equipment work being carried out here that the wildlife's taken refuge elsewhere.  We'll leave these bunnies undisturbed.

I knew we had a dump at the front of our forest, what I didn't know is that we have a dump at the back of our forest, too.

Lots of galvanized metal, old mattresses, metal pails, washer drums and what-not.  This has probably been rotting here for the past 50 or 60 years or so.

I can turn a blind eye to metal, because it will eventually rust to bits, but the tires?  Oh, the tires are going to have to come out of here.  There were about 4 or 5 in various places.  Who knows?  Maybe we'll find something exciting when we get around to pulling these out.  If you look really closely at the above photo, you can see one of the yellow dump trucks used for building the highway off in the distance.

Here you go.  I've zoomed it in for you.  I have no clue why there were 5 or 6 trucks parked in a row here.  Probably so they're out of reach of vandals.  No fools venture out here, except for me.

At the ditch-line that signals the end of our property, we find evidence of beavers hard at work:

I don't know if this is a type of aspen or poplar, but they were busy little beavers.

BobCat is crossing the ditch that marks the far part of our property on one of the trees felled by the beavers.  Cooper's already walking on the ice that covers the ditch, and with all the construction work going on here, I'm not sure how deep it is, so I've called him off in the hopes that BobCat would turn back too.  My strategy worked.

Cooper's back beside me, and I'm looking down at what I'm pretty sure is the access to the beaver's den.  There was a lot of track activity around here, so I wanted to get Cooper back on terra firma.  The last thing I need this week is my dog breaking through a beaver dam.

I've never been this far on our property before, so I don't have any references to orient myself, save the ditch in the above photo, and the drone of the highway.  I figured I'd walk out the same way I walked in, following my own footprints in the snow.  That worked out really well until I looked down and discovered I was walking in Cooper's prints, and I wasn't quite convinced if they were coming or going.  That worked out well, didn't it?  Now, I've got a really good sense of direction and I'm pretty sure of where I am within 100m give or take.  I wasn't worried because if push really came to shove, I'd simply walk back on the highway under construction, and make my way home from there.  I found my way back through the woods and exited about 50 m from where I went in, but it was a slog.  I had snow over my knees a few times (hence, into my boots...) and at this point, I just wanted to get home.  BobCat too:

When I lost sight of him, I'd call his name, and he'd reply with the loudest meows I've ever heard him make.  I'm not sure if he enjoyed the experience or not, based on the wide-eyed expression on his face above.  Once back on open field, my wet feet decided we'd had enough, so we took the path of least resistance and returned on our neighbour's property, and his tractor path which made the walk infinitely easier:

The whole walk took us about 2 hours to complete, and I was happy to come home.  Bob spent the entire night on Cooper's dog bed in the kitchen and Cooper spent the entire night on our bed, so I'd qualify both as exhausted at the end of their most excellent adventure.  I slept pretty tight too.

It all starts with the septic tank...

Why is it, when you buy an old house, the shit tank is invariably first thing to fail?

Actually, in our case, it was the second thing to fail, since the first thing to fail was the well valve. That's simple enough, though. If you know where your well is located, that is. Thankfully we have a wonderful neighbour who used to live in our house many moons ago, as a small child, who was willing, able, and capable of finding the old well. Anyone can tell stories and point fingers, but Mr. Lefebure was really able to pin-point it. Fixing a well valve is not really an issue, providing you can find it, that is. It's simply a matter of digging, which gives one the opportunity to see heavy equipment dangerously close to the picture window in the kitchen, and also see copious amounts of mud in places where there used to be a driveway. But it's in the past, and precedes digital photography, so all that's left are memories, and real photos creatively assembled in an album we laugh over. Mostly. Sometimes we cry too, but then they're tears of joy in knowing we'll never have to go there again. May the well valve be one of those places.

But I digress. We're here for the septic tank. And what a tank it was! When it was finally hauled away, a process that took far too long, I actually walked to the end of the driveway and waved. For a very long time. Probably longer than was appropriate, but then again, the shit tank saga was an entire tome in our lives.

I think the dog noticed it first. The bubbly, slimy, stinking mess. Let's face it: we were in denial, okay? And denial is not a river in Egypt, as the saying goes, no, it's a river of shit right in our very own back yard. Our first tip-off was the septic tank lid, which was curiously made of plywood. Lesson number 1) Beware of septic tanks bearing plywood lids. During the home inspection, Eric was assured the septic tank would "last forever", and I'm sure it would, just not in its vocation as a septic tank. Our first step was to empty the damn thing, which is, once again, simple enough since we're not actually doing it. It's easily accessible, and the shit truck can even stay conveniently parked on the road. Keep that in mind when you're designing your new home and yard.

So this is what we were dealing with. It wasn't leaking, it wasn't overflowing, it just wasn't working, that's all. If you're very perceptive, you've also noticed the tree in the picture. Here's a helpful hint for you new homeowners, those not yet fluent in septic-ese and leads me to lesson number 2) Trees DO NOT belong on top of septic tanks, nor anywhere near your drainage field. Capiche? This is the stuff septic nightmares are made of.

Not ones to do things half-way, we installed not one, but two, yes TWO tanks. Remember I mentioned someone was anal ? Well, I wasn't joking.

Ain't she a beaut? I swear, you haven't lived until you've watched a shit tank expertly being lowered into the ground. The level of satisfaction you feel...simply cannot be described. I can wax philosophical about this ad nauseum, but suffice it to say it's One of the Great Moments in Home Renovation. Being able to flush one's toilet with the knowledge that, several thousand dollars later, one's eco-conscience is clear is a great feeling.

But we're not done yet! And you, the uninitiated, thought that was the end of my story! Not even close! Apparently, the town doesn't like our septic tanks. Also apparently, they don't have an option, since there is an entire development near our house with non-conforming shit tanks. We're looking at options and buying stocks in our local septic tank cleaning company, since we're now emptying our shit tanks with an alarming frequency, since we don't have a drainage field! In this day and age of environmental wisdom and know-how, you'd think the government has a plan, but they don't! Some solutions are unacceptable, and our only legal option (that shall remain nameless), was. We're not into installing something that resembles a giant kitty-litter box in our back yard. No way. In the meantime, the system we're looking at was approved by the government, and here's what was done:

A company called Bionest Technology retrofitted the secondary tank, and once filled with their proprietary media, the secondary tank becomes a sort of breeding ground of good bacteria which helps break down all the coliforms and bad stuff lurking in the septic tank effluent. From this secondary tank, which is aerated to increase the breakdown and efficiency, the waste water goes to a tertiary tank (read: more heavy equipment, more mud) where a Trojan Technologies UV system does it's job.

The UV system is installed in the round tank above. Very simple in it's operation, the UV tank essentially disinfects the remaining waste water before it's discharged into the ditch. A high-level float-type alarm notifies us of any problems, as does another alarm if the UV light burns out. The system is efficient, clean and takes up less space than your regular drainage field. In our case, the clay in our local area does not permit us to use a standard leach field, since clay is impermeable, hence the above fiasco.

All said and done, here's a view of the entire system:

Note the precisely laid PVC drainage pipe. The treated waste-water is pumped to the ditch from here. The water gets tested once a year, and our coliform count is so low, and the water so clear that some municipalities might be jealous. Now if only local laws would permit me to water the lawn with it instead of discharging it, the system would be perfect.

That, my friends, is how Muddy Acres got it's name. And maybe one day I'll own a lawn...maybe one day in the near future. A girl can always dream, can't she?