Well Water

When we first built the cabin, we brought water up in five gallon jugs filled with tap water from the hose at home. We tried to estimate how much water we needed for the number of days we would be there and the number of people who would be joining us. It had to be enough for cooking, washing dishes and showering. We brought up drinking water in individual bottles or gallon jugs from the grocery store. If we ran out or were staying longer, we had to find a place with a hose to fill them up.

Thinking it would be more convenient to have a large plastic water tank, we got one from the farm supply store that we could take to Laramie in the trailer and fill up at a bulk water dispenser, the kind that huge trucks pull up under to fill their tanks. My husband tried it only once.

He had a length of wide plastic hose to direct the water into the tank from the dispenser, which flows from above and is supposed to go into the opening on top of the tank. After pulling up below the pipe and putting payment into the machine, he braced himself on top of the trailer. The water came in a torrent, and the water pressure made it almost impossible to direct the freezing water into the tank without losing half of it and getting completely soaked.

When we discovered that the water got a little funky after sitting in the sun for a few days, we gave up on that idea.

We didn’t use much water, really. We had an outhouse and camping toilets, so there was no flushing. Washing dishes after meals used some. Showers were done military style: get wet, turn off the water, lather up and rinse.

We had a camping shower called a Bivouac Buddy, a little round enclosure with a molded floor and an open water reservoir at the top.  We tied it to a branch of a large pine tree beside the shed, out of view of the cabin. Water went in the top, a blend of boiling water and cold water that was hard to get just right, because what feels right to your hand usually feels too hot to the rest of you. The flow was regulated with a little stopper with a wire pull that felt like a bug in your hair when it brushed against the top of your head.

After swatting the side to dislodge any spiders, we put our towel and clothes on the white plastic chair outside the shower–the one we stood on the add water–and hopped in, careful not to make the bottom slide out and dump us on the ground. It was part of the thrill to be naked outside in the breeze, hoping no one walked by.

My husband spent much of the morning heating water and keeping the reservoir full for everyone who wanted to take a shower. We tried to get in and out before the wind picked up, because the blue shower curtain material stuck to  wet skin, making it hard to lather and rinse, and potentially providing too much information to passers-by.

Some people refused to use it, preferring to wash up in a bucket, but for the brave, it was great.

A few years ago, we decided to have a well drilled. We now have a ready supply of cold, fresh, delicious water. It comes from a crack in the rock 500 feet underground near the cabin. We don’t haul water anymore.

There’s no drought in Wyoming, and the water we use goes directly back into the ground it came from. It’s a vacation from the water stress we experience at home in dry California.

With our new abundance of water, we decided a to build a better shower. It’s still outside, but it is a 4 by 8 foot solid structure, with wood decking for the floor, corrugated steel for the sides and open air for the ceiling. There’s a propane water heater keeping the hot water flowing, so my husband’s mornings are freed up. A little bench and wall hooks make changing more pleasant and less revealing than Bivouac Buddy days.

The first summer we used it, our daughter stocked it with luxurious shampoo, conditioner and lotion and we dubbed it the Spa Shower. Everyone loves it. It is wonderful to feel the sun while you shower, and look up to see the blue sky, billowing clouds and shimmering aspen leaves overhead.

One hot summer day, we repurposed the old water tank by cutting off the top with a jig saw and filling it with well water to make what we call the “cowboy swimming pool”–a much better way to use it.