Marty’s photo of the day #4430: For the last couple of weeks, I have been learning a lot about water rights in Old West Montana. I say that because as near as I can tell they haven’t evolved since the 1800s.
Deb and I have 25 acres, “The Essen Wildlife Refuge,” on a private mountain road, and we have three neighbors above us. Back in the Old West days, our land was part of a huge ranch. Because our land is forested, I don’t think the original rancher ran cattle here or anything like that. Instead, he built a network of irrigation ditches that bring water down from high in the mountains. The ditch that cuts across our land looks more like a stream than a ditch and it has been here since 1880.
What does that have to do with this photo of a destroyed culvert? This culvert allowed the irrigation ditch to travel under the gravel road between Deb’s and my house and our neighbors above. The culvert has been slowly collapsing over the years, and our annual road grading finally chopped off a piece that had worked its way to the surface.
Two brothers and their families own the last two houses at the top. Since they work in construction, it was natural that they would “stage manage” the project of replacing the culvert. After a month of getting nothing done, one of their wives called me and sweet talked me into taking over the project. “This is why we don’t let our husbands be in charge of anything!” she declared.
So I took over the stage managing, like I’ve done every other time before. First, I called the irrigation commissioner to see if they would help with the project, and when she told me I was on my own, I got together with the contractor I had hired for grading and we got the project completed in less than a week.
But it doesn’t end there! Yesterday, I was interrupted at lunch by multiple men on a conference call, demanding that I pull out the culvert I just put in and replace it with a bigger one!
Keep in mind that the culvert I put in handles the water just fine. The contractor I worked with even consulted an engineer to make sure it was the correct size. On top of that, I can see on the downstream side of the culvert that more water is passing through than there has been at any time during our 27 years here.
“That doesn’t matter!” a man on the ditch told me. “You have to replace with the same size culvert you took out.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because the original one was approved as the correct size.”
“Really?” I said. “That culvert is well over fifty years old. How do you know it wasn’t the only size available back then or that it was selected because it was specially-priced at the time?”
“I guess I don’t.”
Now, apparently, the irrigation commissioner has contacted a water judge (yes, Montana has an actual Water Court), and it’s quite possible I will be forced to pull out the new culvert and replace it with a bigger one.
And the thing that really pisses me off is that if the irrigation commissioner had just told me “put in the same size” when I originally spoke with her, I would have done it. When divided four ways, the cost difference between the 18 inch culvert we put in and the 24 inch that was there before isn’t that significant.
I don’t know how this is going to turn out yet. All I know is that since “water rules” here in the Old West, I probably won’t win this thing and will likely be pulling out a perfectly good culvert next week and replacing it with another one.
So the next time you see a television show or movie romanticizing Montana and think, “I should move there,” just remember that after all that romancing comes the pain in the ass!