Val de Mort, Part 2

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Retrospect: Mid-September, 2006
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It was not even our first full year out here but mid September of 2006 threw more challenges at us than all the months before or since. It was as though unseen forces were playing their best hand in a winner-takes-all game. The only cards we held were faith, determination and optimism. They may not hold a strong suit value to many people but we held that hand doggedly and it won in the end.

Just as with living at the end of the runway of a large airport, everyday noise begins to fall into that deaf repository of your subconscious but oddities still jump glaringly to the fore of your consciousness. I had stepped out onto the porch and into the pleasantly warm Autumn air when a sound caught my attention. I leaned forward off the front of the porch and peered around the front face of the Rat to the West.
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What I saw was no less disturbing than what I had initially heard. Direct atmospheric venting of gas wells is normal out here but this was far worse. Usual direct venting releases small numbers of odorless and invisible assassins but in numbers so small and in such a brief interval as to be a minor threat to life, short-term. What I was seeing now were roiling, over whelming hordes uncloaked by moisture and chemical impurities. I called over my shoulder for Mark to come look and listen. He noted casually that he had heard the noise several hours earlier and paid no attention to it. Fortunately, the clouds were billowing oddly to the North but there was no guarantee that the winds wouldn't return to their habitual trek to the East ... and towards us!
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We walked closer, over to the barn, and realized that this situation would not correct itself. Driving past the clouds to evacuate did not seem a wise choice either by now.
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We decided to creep closer to the fury out of sheer cat-like curiosity, carefully watching the drape of the vapors hissing violently upwards from the ground. The long-absent rains which came back to coincide with our arrival had done much to erode and unsettle the half century old gas infrastructure and the piping had given out near the ground exit below the main shut-off valve.

That's when we decided to look up our field contacts. Our main contact, as fate would have it, was out of state on vacation but he was able to give us phone and e-mail contacts for the pertinent parties as well as safety precautions for the interim. With the photos that we provided by e-mail, they were able to save many needless hours of assessment trips and return trips to town to convene procedure and safety meetings and just get 'er done.

Mind you, even then, it would take time to gather the right hands and equipment along with the two hour trip out here. In the meantime, we watched the heavy clouds of gas sway and meander in the breeze, just hoping that they would not envelope the Rat any time soon. We extinguished the open flame pilots as advised and sat waiting for something to happen for hours, well into complete darkness. There came a point when a surreal sense of fatalism overcame us. We both sat there quietly looking for vehicle lights to pierce the blackness of the canyon until violent headaches got the best of us. Frankly, at that point in blistering cranial misery, we no longer cared if we might wake up the next morning or not. We resigned ourselves to a night's or possibly an eternity's worth of sleep.

We both woke up to the warm touch of sunny rays through the window and blinked contemplatively, eventually pinching ourselves here and there to see if this was a postmortem dream or the beginning of a new day in corporeal existence. Ouch! We were still here all right.
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Arising, stretching and wandering over to the large front window brought us the view above. The sunlight, the mesas and the rest of our familiar world were still there. The gas gnomes had quietly arrived in the dead of night and were completing their mysterious work. Our headaches had subsided, the well had been silenced ... it was obviously going to be another good day ahead for us.
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This event occurred back in those heady first days when we felt as though we had a genuine friend and neighbor relationship with the gas field. Now, only in looking back over the intervening time and events and after sifting through the remains of the old burnt out trailer across the street with its puddles of molten glass and metal, do I realize that few would have mourned our passing had conflagration or gases claimed us that night. The company would have been relieved that no one would likely ever question the circumstances. Cynicism is rarely a child of accidental conception.

But we stay because this place is still our dream come true. The challenges and dangers have been worth the risks and we will now work towards change; to make life easier, more equitable and more joyous for those who follow us. If we haven't given up, don't you dare abandon your dreams either. Take your dreams seriously and fight to preserve them. I will be showing you plenty of reasons why it's worth it.
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