Draft: RV 1.112809:1815:RLDeWitte
I remember very well the summer of ‘72, although I confess I’m not certain why. It wasn’t that spectacularly different than any of the previous Appalachian mountain summers I had enjoyed. Maybe it was the fact that I was getting close to my teenage years, or maybe it was more the friends I had that summer. Nonetheless, the song, “It Never Rains (in Southern California)” has been burned into my song psyche (if there is such a thing) for all these years since.
When you grow up somewhere they have rain, frequently, things get fixed; leaking roofs, busted gutters, etc. on an almost continual basis. In Southern California the opportunities to make sure everything is working alright are few and far between.
Here is a perfect example: It’s been almost 160 days since any really measurable rainfall…who thinks about gutters? I don’t, I haven’t thought about gutters since April. Well, that whole, out of sight out of mind thing can come back and bite you in the ass when you least expect it. The rains poured down today, and yes, it did rain hard. It was sporadic but it was measurable and as hard a rain as I’ve seen in some time. I glanced from my office window to watch the torrents and listen to the sound of the rain hitting the roof when I heard the sound of more than just the tippity-tap of rain drops. This was a sound like someone had left the hose running in the garden…that can’t be good! As I scanned the roof line outside the window it didn’t take long to locate the culprit. A section of gutter that looked to be about 11 months pregnant, and the water was flowing over the edge as if it were a waterfall at Disneyland.
It’s odd not being used to rain. I really had zero desire to climb out onto that roof and get wet just to fix a silly gutter pipe. Now, the upside to rain in Southern California, at least this time of year, is the downpours just don’t seem to have any stamina, it’s kind of like a football game. The rain sends in the big play, it takes a couple minutes to execute and then everyone needs a break. Thank goodness this isn’t soccer-style rain season.
So, as the rain tapered off I hopped up onto the patio roof with my trusty craftsman ladder and proceed to assess the situation. Not taking the time to look closely I placed the ladder against the edge of the gutter, put my foot on the bottom step and began to climb. The blockage that was holding back that extra four gallons of water was now dislodged as my ladder twisted the gutter with my weight against it and my strong desire not get to soaked to the skin was quickly doused as the dirty, gutter water showered over me in one quick deluge.
With that drama out of the way it was easy to see what the real problem was…CITG…crap in the gutter. Back east, once or twice a year you climbed up the ladder and took the hose and blasted all the leaves, acorns and other crap out of the gutter so the melt from the snow wouldn’t build up and rip them from the sides of the house. There are no leaves in Southern California, well, yes, there are leaves but not piles and piles of oak, maple, poplar and the like. An occasional palm frown but that’s about it. What in the world could be jamming up these gutters? My best guess is…”I have no clue!”
So I reached in with my hand like a backhoe and retrieved a sample….It was like dirty black sand. My thought was that perhaps the little bit of rain, etc from the previous year had washed the sand from the asphalt shingles down in quantites larger enough to build up in the gutters. Mmmm, it was just nasty, and there was a lot. It filled almost the entire length of the gutter with an inch thick paste. I thought about getting the hose, but with more rain due that seemed just a bit redundant and yes, probably even wasteful. As I got closer to the end of the gutter I could see the clouds gathering again to the north. This weather seemed to be blowing NW to SE and the wind was picking up as well. I raked the last handfull of gutter ooze and tossed it towards the yard as the drops began to fall again. I had no sooner touched the ground when the next downpour began. These were big drops and mother nature even took time to toss some hale in with the mix, just for good measure.
Like a game show contestant I stood anxiously waiting for the water to begin pouring from the downspout…nothing. That’s ok I thought to myself, it will take a few seconds for the gutter to fill. Still nothing…awww c’mon…as the rain fell harder I really, really did not want to climb back up on that roof. Then I could hear a rattle in the downspout, like someone shaking a peanut in an empty soda can, and it was getting louder. What in the world was stuck inside that pipe? I could hear it more clearly now, it wasn’t metal against metal, perhaps wood or plastic, but then every other clank would sound like metal. It clattered and clattered, I found myself talking to the downspout, hoping it would release whatever it held inside so there wouldn’t be one more thing I’d have to dissassemble.
There in the rain I stood, motionless, almost excitedly waiting to see what was going to be dispelled from the mouth of the wicked downspout. Then, it was quiet. “Noooo, I shouted out loud, give it up….whatever it is, just LET IT OUT”. The downspout began to shake, ever so softly. My fear grew as I was afraid it would certainly rip loose from the side of the house and explode in a shower of aluminum and gutter ooze. The rain came down harder, I could see it beginning to trickle over the edge of the gutter along the side of the house. What could I do? I tapped ever so gently on the downspout, lovingly, tenderly, hoping it would just let it go. I moved to the end and there I could see just the tip of something, it was as if the downpout was crowning, this was just too creepy. With nary a second thought I reached in and pulled…at the moment of release every ounce of water in that downspout and all that was backed up in the gutter along the house attempted to pour from that opening. I jumped to one side as quickly as I could, but my foot caught the small joint in the concrete and I fell back, spread eagle as the rain water, spout ooze and gutter slime shot out the pipe with as much force as it could generate, sufficient enough to cover me from head to toe. There, soaked and nasty as a sewer rat I looked down to see the object that had caused all this grief and suffering. It was, a putty knife. The very one I had been using to clean the gutters. I guess I had forgotten to take it out when I was finishing the last section. Oppps, my bad!!!
