So far I’ve met two ditch riders in Valier, but there must be more. Maintenance is a big part of making an irrigation system work. Yet this is a job most people have never heard of and may imagine amounts to nothing. QUITE the contrary!
"DITCH RIDER"
Job Description:
1) Controls irrigation system to convey water to farms in assigned area, according to rights, or as instructed by WATER CONTROL SUPERVISOR or other officials, for irrigating fields and crops: Contacts water users to determine quantity of water needed, and time and duration of delivery.
2) Computes and requisitions quantity of water required.
3) Operates gates, checks, turnouts, and wasteways to regulate waterflow into canals and laterals.
4) Measures or estimates diversions of water from canals and to water users, and calculates and records quantities delivered for use in computing charges to farmers.
5) Patrols assigned area by foot, horseback, or motor vehicle to detect leaks, breaks, weak areas, or obstructions and damage to irrigation system.
6) Removes debris and makes emergency repairs to banks, structures, gates, and canal roads.
7) Fills holes and exterminates rodents.
8) Writes reports and records daily deliveries, number of users, amount of water used, and other data required by law or company.
9) May prepare reports on condition of system and equipment, and replacements or repairs needed.
10) May supervise crew workers cleaning ditches, raising ditch banks, repairing concrete and wooden structures, erecting fences and gates, and other maintenance work after irrigating season has passed.
11) May take annual crop census and make weed and other surveys.
12) May patrol canal at night to determine that water is flowing in prescribed volume into users' ditches.
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NIGHT RIDER
He’d been a ditch rider patrolling the irrigation canals for many years, but he’d never done it at night before. Once he was out on the little trail along the built stream traveling from the high east slope down to the fields, he began to wish that they hadn’t given up the old system of riding horseback for the modern all-terrain vehicles. Even lit with a headlight and knowing where he was going wasn’t as useful as a sure-footed horse that knew the path.
One would think that a straight-shot of water moving right along would keep itself clear, but that’s because they didn’t know how industrious and effective beavers can be, esp at night, nor how brush and mud caved in the sides. A slope like that down through the foothills of the Rockies was a natural engine powered by gravity and hydraulics. Once it got down to the flats, it could still be tricky for anyone trying to swim in it if someone upstream made a major release from the dam at the headwaters.
Animals used the canals the same way they used natural creeks, deer following along because growth was lush, cougar following because there were deer, and grizzlies because they are peak opportunists. He was hoping that the noise of the ATV motor and the headlight would alert bears to stay back in the brush, but he spontaneously began to sing as well. Since he was fond of the stories of the early open range, he sang cowboy songs.
The trouble with this strategy was that he made so much noise that he couldn’t hear the sounds of the night. Maybe an owl now and then. The sound of the water, of course. And sometimes he could see the bright dots of deer eyes. He could tell they were deer, not cougar, from their size, height and movement. Small nocturnal animals also froze, glittered, slipped away.
Then the motor failed. It would not restart. Small motors are always tricky. He could not think of a reason. Silence was sudden. He turned off the headlight to keep from running down the battery. Now there was nothing to do but wait for morning when someone would come looking for him. He had a powerful flashlight and a baloney sandwich. Cell phones wouldn’t work along this stretch. Cell phones are an urban invention. He also had a .357 handgun, just in case. They were a military invention, but they could stop a bear if the repellant spray didn’t work.
Now it was dark but far from silent. The breeze sang. Stars pricked through the sky everywhere and he wished he’d paid more attention to learning the constellations when he was a Boy Scout. He wished for a full moon, but it was a slender little crescent.
When the bear came, he didn’t see it — just knew it was there. The smell, but also the displacement of space on the trail. He tried not to spike adrenaline because he knew the bear could smell it. It didn’t seem like more than one bear, no cubs was good. Breeding season was over so a boar would not necessarily want to challenge competitors. His brain raced on and on, dredging up factoids and ideas that weren’t even relevant.
Time stopped.
He wondered whether it would be a good idea to turn on the flashlight. Even if it blinded the bear, it would be depending on its ears and nose more anyway. If it had been later in the summer, the bear would have been so intent on eating everything vaguely edible that he would have been in more danger. He thought about his baloney sandwich, whether he should throw it to the bear. Would it be a peace offering or a snack that implied there might be more? He thought ridiculously about what would happen if he threw the sandwich hard enough to hit the bear on its nose. Should he unwrap it?
Nonsense. Get the bear spray. Lazily, he hadn’t put it close to hand, so would the search for the can be movement that triggered a charge?
“Whuff!” said the bear, shifting its feet, bobbing its head. Then it crashed peacefully off into the brush along the canal and out across the empty space beyond. When the night rider's rescuers came, he could point out the grizzly tracks and tell the story. They would be impressed. He might add a few details.
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