Aquifer: A Novel Page 4

  “Sooo, Clayton,” stated Doctor Welton quite matter-of-factly. “Rumor has it that you're headed to the Ozarks to become a hillbilly for the summer.”

  “No!” Clayton rebuffed. “I detest hillbillies and shall never become one. And yes, I leave in two weeks.”

  “Oh? Well, sounds like quite an expedition. Undoubtedly to serve some environmental issue?” Welton asked rhetorically.

  “Of course,” said Clayton as he methodically placed both of his hands upon the table, one on either side of his plate. Then, assuming a somewhat lecturing demeanor, he continued. “Ecologically speaking, frogs are to local environments what canaries were to coal miners. They are the first species to show problems from pollutants, so they’re our planet’s early warning system. In fact, we sometimes call them our Sentinel Species.” With that, he reached to the center of the table and picked up a bottle of ketchup. Unscrewing the cap, he inserted his table knife and scraped out a copious quantity onto the plate next to his french fries while continuing his monolog. “Because of their highly permeable eggs and skin, frogs easily absorb toxic substances. And their bodily systems are so fragile that they easily succumb to their toxic environments.” He then motioned for Mclninch to pass him the salt and pepper without so much as slowing his speech. He was a true stereotypical research scientist and easily got caught up in the details of his work. “So all kinds of toxins from acid rain, heavy metals, fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides, preservatives, industrial waste, and even automobile exhaust have taken a great toll on frogs world wide.” He paused to take another bite, but his companions knew that he had not concluded.

  Clayton was always eager to share his passion for environmental research and preservation regardless of whether or not his listeners were even remotely interested.

  “Ok! Ok! We get the point,” exclaimed Welton. “But what’s all that got to do with your spending the entire summer in the Ozark backwoods?”

  “Well, logging down there has made a tremendous ecological impact, especially during the last few years, since large chip mill operations started invading the area. Decomposition of their sawdust piles produces tannic acid that leaches into the watershed, which is the first step in a long chain of events that wreaks havoc with the environment.” Clayton dabbed at the ketchup with a couple of french fries and stuffed them into his mouth, then continued talking while he chewed, “I want to check on the frogs to see how bad the pollution problem has become,” he elaborated, grabbing a napkin to wipe off some ketchup that had dripped onto his tie.

  Being a man of few words was an offense of which Clayton would never be accused. Asking him for the time of day and receiving an extensively detailed lecture on how to build a watch was an experience that all of his acquaintances had regrettably endured, many times over.

  Clayton searched around his plate for a fork to remove the onions from his hamburger. Unable to find one he turned to Larry, whom he seemed to notice for the first time, and asked, “Would you mind getting me a fork?”

  Larry obediently arose and headed toward the silverware containers near the cash registers, passing Tina Chitwood's table en route.

  Tina looked up from across her table and their eyes met. Larry, however, seemed totally clueless as to her identity. He smiled politely but continued walking. After a few steps, however, his mind clicked in recognition. He stopped, backed up a couple of steps and spoke apologetically. “I'm sorry, I was thinking of something else. Is your food all right?”

  Tina smiled, “Don't worry about it.”

  “Can I get you something?”

  “No, I’m fine. Go enjoy your lunch.”

  “You’re sure?” Larry inquired, trying to make amends for his previous social faux pas.

  Tina smiled and nodded her head affirmatively, trying to not appear as interested in him as she felt.

  Larry returned the smile, dipped his head in a polite bow and continued his trek to the silverware racks. Unbeknown to him, Tina coyly watched as he left.

  Returning from the silverware racks he again stopped at her table, but this time he presented her with a large slice of banana cream pie. “I hope that this will make up for the mess I made.”

  Tina smiled and gladly accepted his offering. “You didn’t have to do that. But shamelessly, I have no self-control when it comes to banana cream pie.”

  At the professor’s table, Welton and Mclninch politely endured Clayton’s treatise of the relative merits of the logging industry and its associated destruction of rural America. Clayton had a way of making seemingly simple concepts appear extremely complex. Yet after meticulous discussion to explain the bigger issues, things usually fell neatly into place and once again seemed elegantly simple, but on a grander scale.

  “So you’re against logging?” asked Welton.

  “Oh, certainly not. Logging is an important industry in maintaining our economy, both nationally and for that area of the Ozarks. But it has to be done with environmental responsibility,” Clayton stated emphatically, strengthening his argument.

  “I agree,” interjected Dr. Mclninch. “But you seem to imply that there are deliberate polluting activities being engaged in by the loggers down there. Do you really believe that?”

  “No. But the nature of the industry creates a certain measure of pollution and sometimes even when things are done with the best of intentions it can cause unforseen yet disastrous consequences,” Clayton replied.

  “Such as?” inquired Welton raising one eyebrow questioningly.

  “Well . . . take the asbestos industry for an example,” Clayton began.

  At that point Larry returned with the fork and handed it to his mentor. Larry could immediately tell by their conversation that he hadn’t missed anything important.

  “Thank you,” Clayton said. He took the fork and started removing the onions from his burger while continuing his monologue without so much as a pause.

  “Thirty and forty years ago we used asbestos in virtually all construction projects as a fire retardant and as insulation on boiler pipes, furnace duct work, and so forth. Today we know that just breathing air that has come into contact with it can cause lung cancer. When we started using asbestos it was with the best of intentions. Now you can’t even touch the stuff without special protective equipment and government permits, especially if you try to remove it.” As he spoke, Clayton reached for his water glass, squeezed a lemon wedge into it, stirred it twice and then paused just long enough to take a sip. “Hundreds of millions of dollars in lawsuits have been filed, and who knows how many deaths have been caused by breathing air contaminated with it. I just want to make sure that the logging industry doesn’t inadvertently create similar conditions, either for us or for the environment.”

  Welton tilted his head toward Larry and loudly whispered, “Get used to it kid; he doesn’t know how to give a short answer to anything. You’ve just got to be patient and humor him a little.”

  Larry smiled a bit uncomfortably.

  Oblivious to Welton’s side comment, Mclninch prodded Clayton on, “Well, I don’t see how you could determine the future consequences of any current inadvertent actions. Besides, even if you could, that would be quite a crusade for one man.”

  “Oh, I’ll not be working alone. My portion of the project is only a small piece of a national project. This summer I’ll be working with colleagues who will be doing similar studies all over the country. We’ll pool our collected data for statistical analysis to determine how badly the logging industry’s pollution has affected our sentinel species,” explained Clayton. “But our laws are so lax that even when the loggers follow letter of the law compliance they still wreak havoc on the environment.”

  “How's that?” asked Welton.

  “Well . . . the way they cut trees,” replied Clayton. “They clear cut hundreds of acres a day destroying habitats and ruining the environment.”

  “Well, how else could you do it and maintain cost effectiveness?” inquired Welton.

  �
�With horse or mule teams hauling out selected trees,” Clayton answered. “A number of studies have shown this to be a superior method of tree harvesting.”

  “That seems rather archaic,” observed Mclninch.

  “But environmentally friendly,” Clayton insisted in an effort to clarify his point. He had difficulty understanding why some people could not grasp the importance of taking care of the environment. Especially when its wholesale destruction was done simply to enhance the financial performance of a major industry.

  Feeling to change the subject, Dr. Mclninch pointed at Larry with his fork between bites, “Well, I hope the kid works out for you, I sure hate to lose him from my department.”

  “Well, we’ll see how a boy from the Bronx adapts to camping all summer in hillbilly country,” joked Clayton.

  Everyone laughed.

  Larry was embarrassed but smiled good-naturedly while chewing the last of his lunch. He quickly glanced past Clayton’s shoulder hoping to steal a peek at Tina’s table, only to be disappointed that she had gone.

  “But the summer won't be all work,” Clayton continued. “I’ve been told that the rivers down there have some of the best bass fishing you'll ever experience. Why don't you guys come down for a few days and we'll see if we can’t find where the lunkers hide?”

  “Can’t,” lamented Mclninch. “I'm teaching all summer.”

  “Well I'm not. You just name the day and I’ll be there,” Welton responded enthusiastically.

  =/=

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Camp

  Deep in the Ozark Mountains of Southern Missouri, the gentle rolling hills extended from horizon to horizon. The trees and foliage were so thick that except for an occasional outcropping of rocks, passengers in a plane flying overhead would never see the ground. Many of the locals referred to the thick underbrush and lofty tree-top canopy as the Missouri Jungle. The verdant forest was cris-crossed with hundreds of crystal clear rivers and streams, most of which were fed by the local karst formations, though several received their water from deep water springs arising from the continental aquifer.

  Geologic karst systems center around a large localized aquifer or watershed area characterized by an irregular limestone region with many sinkholes, sink basins (which may cover thousands of acres), caverns, caves, conduits, tubes, springs, grottos and underground streams, rivers and lakes. Water enters a karst system either directly, by flowing into one of nature’s storm drains such as a sinkhole, cave or losing stream (which is a sinking or disappearing stream), or indirectly by gently seeping through the soil and percolating down to the bedrock, where it settles in the localized aquifer, hundreds or even thousands of feet below the surface.

  During eons in the long distant past, the geographic area which is now occupied by the Central United States was predominately covered by a calm, shallow, tropical sea. The sea produced a thriving variety of shelled organisms that lived, died, and sank to the bottom. Over time the deposits of calcium-rich shells and skeletons solidified, forming a bedrock several hundred feet thick consisting of limestone, dolomite, gypsum and other calcium based sedimentary rock. This porous layer of soft rock capped the hard igneous rock beneath it.

  At some point in prehistory, the shallow sea was displaced when magma deep within the Earth’s crust lifted up the bedrock into a gentle domed-shaped plateau. This plateau covers parts of present-day Missouri, Arkansas, Oklahoma and Kansas, and is known as the Ozark Plateau or Ozark Dome. The geologic stresses of uplift and erosion created deep cracks and fissures in the soft rock.

  Calcium based rocks, such as limestone and dolomite, can be dissolved by dilute acids over time. Water becomes slightly acidic when it combines with carbon dioxide while passing through decaying organic debris in the soil. When this naturally produced acidic water passes through cracks or seams in the soluble rocks it gradually dissolves them, resulting in the creation of caves, conduits, springs and underground drainage systems characteristic of karst landscape.

  South Central Missouri in particular is home to one of the most highly developed karst topographies in the world. It is a virtual honey comb of caves, sinkholes, springs and grottos linking vast portions of the interstate region. Surface water is readily transported from one area to another through these subterranean conduits.

  The Ozark aquifer is an immense groundwater reservoir that covers more than half of the State of Missouri, as well as vast parts of Arkansas, Oklahoma and Kansas. The aquifer stores some 208 trillion gallons of groundwater, held in rock fractures at depths up to 3,000 feet underground.

  Above ground, the valley floors which separate the peaks of Ozark mountains, are only 400 to 500 feet above sea level, a surprising and unexpected fact for land located in the center of the country. With few exceptions, the mountains themselves seldom achieve heights greater than 1,000 feet. The highest peak in the State of Missouri, Taum Sauk Mountain, is located in the southern Ozarks, though its towering pinnacle achieves a height of only 1,800 feet.

  Large tracts of Ozark land has been designated as either national forests, national parks, or state parks. The preponderance of these parks and recreational areas created a bustling tourist industry.

  Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending upon one’s perspective, the small towns that thrived upon tourist trade during the summer months become virtual ghost towns during the off seasons. With little permanent industry to provide jobs, the youth of the area generally leave upon graduation from high school, flocking to the big cities in search of vocations or further education.

  One of these numerous national parks straddled the Jack’s Fork River and took in the forest surrounding Alley Spring in Shannon County. Alley Spring was a large artesian spring that gushed over fifty million gallons of water daily and was located just six miles west of the town of Eminence on State Highway 106. Why the road was called a highway was a question asked by many tourists from out-of-state. The roadbed, only one lane in each direction, was just a graveled road up until the early 1970s. At best, the highway was a narrow country road winding through the hilly mountainside, connecting quaint little country towns that seemed distinctly out of place in the bustling twenty-first century of metropolitan America.

  Typical of most national parks, Alley Spring sported a large campground, which was situated just east of the spring basin. Over two hundred individual campsites as well as several large group sites accommodated the demands of campers from all over the country. Because of the high popularity of this beautiful setting a second campground was also located about a mile and a half further upstream, on Highway 106. A sign at the secondary campground entrance announced:

  – ALLEY SPRING CAMPGROUNDS –

  OZARK NATIONAL SCENIC RIVERWAYS

  MARK TWAIN NATIONAL FOREST

  Beyond the sign the vast camping area stretched for almost a mile through a wide valley along the southern bank of the Jack’s Fork River. Each individual campsite, of which there were over 150, consisted of a wooden plank picnic table, a concrete lined fire pit, a free-standing charcoal barbeque, a culinary water spigot, and lots of open area for tenting, volleyball, or other sporting activities. The campsites themselves, as well as the spacious open areas separating them, were softly carpeted with thick luxuriant grass. Many of the camping sites also had R.V. pads with utility connections, though the majority of campers still preferred tents.

  One of the alluring draws to this particular park, besides the beauty of the spring and the warm waters of the Jack’s Fork River, was the spaciousness of the campsites. Vacationers did not feel like sardines crammed into tiny niches where even hushed conversations thundered in the ears of the campers in the adjacent campsite.

  Public bathrooms were spaced every 30 campsites. The large brick buildings featured flush toilets and hot showers. The Park Service sponsored daily nature hikes, and each evening there were lectures in the amphitheater.

  This was definitely not what Larry had envisioned when he learned he would be camping all summer
. On the contrary, this, he thought, was more like an extended picnic in a beautiful park with all the conveniences of home.

  Larry and Dr. Clayton had been camping at the Jack’s Fork campground for only a week. They intended to use that site as their base camp throughout the remainder of the summer, though they also planned on taking numerous two or three-day trips to peripheral areas.

  Though there was no logging allowed within the park itself, the hundreds of springs, rivers, streams and caves within it received their water from the recharging areas located many miles beyond the park’s boundaries. Thus by monitoring the water conditions within and around the park they would be able to accurately determine the pollution levels created by logging operations conducted within a 5,000 square mile area.

  The Ozark’s highly developed karst system concentrated and funneled water flows from the surrounding areas into the park’s waterways. Using well documented and long established dye-tracing methods it was easy to accurately determine the specific watershed source, and hence the logging area, which supplied water to each spring, cave, stream and river within the park.

  Clayton’s campsite was situated at the back end of the campground and only about two hundred yards from the Jack’s Fork River. It consisted of two large fifth-wheel type trailers; one was used for their living quarters and the other contained a fully equipped zoological lab. Parked next to the trailers was an F-150 pickup truck and a black Hummer H-2. An oversized utility trailer, hauling a bass boat and miniature chem lab, rested nearby. Additionally, a screen tent covered their three-foot by eight-foot wooden plank picnic table which had been chained to a nearby hickory tree preventing it from washing downstream whenever the Jack’s Fork flooded. Coleman lanterns hung from poles for use at night.

  Larry was up early that morning and sat at the table inside the screen tent pouring over books and charts. In both the early morning and evening, the mosquitoes swarmed in great numbers. Larry appreciated the protection the screen tent afforded.