Back in the 1960s or 70s Bond Jobe, a well driller from John Day, showed us how to do water witching. You straighten out two coat hangers, and then bend them into an L shape with one long, and one short leg. Holding one short leg loosely in each hand, with the long legs pointed straight in front of you, you begin walking forward. When you cross an underground stream, the long legs cross in front of you. After you have crossed the underground stream, the legs uncross.

I don't know why it works, but it does. My brother, our dad, and I were all able to make the rods work. My mother could not. I don't think my wife can, either.

I made some rods, and did a lot of experimenting with them. I found that as I walked north and south across our slope that the rods would regularly cross about every 100 feet or so. It seems reasonable that there would be multiple underground streams of water coming down off the mountains. They were small streams. The rods would cross, and then immediately uncross as I kept moving. But once in a while I would find a spot where the rods might stay crossed for as much as three feet.

High on the Mountain Place I found one of those 3-foot-wide streams. It was right where the road that goes up the south side of Steward's woods enters the Mountain Place. The stream enters the Mountain Place from the northwest. I was able to follow the stream far up on the Reservoir Ridge. If I followed it far enough, I'm sure it would go under Rock Creek, and keep going.

I was also able to follow the stream down through the Mountain Place. It went southeast right down through the site that dad picked on which to build his log house. At that point the stream was only 18 inches wide. I had Bond Jobe drill dad's house well right in that underground stream. The well produced 90 gallons per minute.

Contrast that with the well at my house. It only yields 5 gallons per minute. That's barely enough for our needs, and leaves nothing that can be used for watering lawns. My water witching rods tell me that our house well is in exactly the wrong spot. There is a stream under my living room, and another one under our greenhouse. Our well is midway between the two.

Interestingly, if one holds the rods, and walks east and west, the rods also periodically cross. Several decades ago I did that in the field below our house. I discovered an amazing thing. Halfway down the field, the rods crossed, and then didn't uncross for 90 feet! What in the world was down there? It was a wide lake. Furthermore, whatever it was extended clear across the field, and clear across the field to the north. It made a perfectly straight line across both fields, going in a southeast/northwest direction.

I concluded that I had found the fault that was supposed to exist here at the base of the Blue Mountains. My geologist friend, Grant Lindsay, had told me that the fault existed, and that it could be seen over in the Pocahontas area. He also told me that the Blue Mountains were caused by an upthrust.

The thing that I was observing was an underground pool of water. The underground streams that come down off the mountain hit that fault, and are stopped because the fault has cut off their normal flow. The water pools there behind the fault.

I let those bits of knowledge sit in my mind for several decades.

Last year I got to looking at the Bald Hill to the south of our place. The Bald Hill is an easterly extension of Hunt Mountain that sticks out into the valley. One day it occurred to me that it didn't belong there. It didn't look right. It was a thing out of place. Suddenly it looked to me like that hill was actually an ancient landslide. I could imagine that huge section of earth becoming dislodged from the steep side of Hunt Mountain and sliding down into the valley. Such an event should have perhaps left a scar where the soil was removed, but the entire slope of the mountain is covered with evergreen trees.

The hill and the whole mountainside are owned by my brother and his two sons. Timmy lives just north of the hill. Tommy lives to the south. Up in the woods Timmy has a spot that is a wonderful sand pit. The area is pure granite sand. I'm wondering if that isn't the case for most of that side of the mountain? That would be why it's able to grow pine trees, and why a landslide scar is not evident. I'm going to investigate that as soon as the snow melts. I want to traverse the Bald Hill, and see what it's made of. I'm guessing that there isn't a lot of rock. I'm guessing that the side of the mountain is made up of a lot of unstable sand and soil. I'm guessing that this fault produced an earthquake in ancient times, and that it caused the side of the mountain to slip, thus producing the Bald Hill.

This week I took my rods and followed the fault south from my house right to the base of Hunt Mountain. The fault goes under the mountain just to the west of the Bald Hill, the perfect place to have made that mountain slope vulnerable to becoming a landslide.

In pioneer times there was a hot spring to the south of the Bald Hill that was used by the early settlers for bathing. Interestingly, it remained a hot spring until Mount St. Helens went off in 1980. It then lost its heat.

There is another hot spring perhaps six miles to the north of us called Fisher Hot Springs. My friend, Terry Fisher owns the property. For many years there was a swimming pool there. It was up on the hill above his house. I swam in it many times, but the Fishers finally had it bulldozed. The concrete was eroded and rough; and people were constantly sneaking in at night, swimming there, and doing a lot of drinking. The Fishers worried about their liability if and when a trespassing drunk should drown there. They, therefore, destroyed the pool.

I theorized that the two hot springs are on the fault.

I haven't yet determined where the fault goes in relation to the hot spring that was on the south side of the Bald Hill, but yesterday I set out to see where the fault goes to the north. The fault is a couple of hundred yards below Adam's house. It is just above the western drip line of the big pine tree on the property north of Adam's property.

Marjorie and I drove over onto South Rock Creek Lane and stopped where it would make a line from the pine tree's drip line to the power pole that marks the location of the fault where it crosses Willow Creek Lane. I got out of the car with my water witching rods and began walking west. Within just three paces I found my wide pool of water. I looked north, drew an imaginary line in my mind, and guessed where the fault would cross the next road to the north. I thought that it should be right where the road makes a bend below Del Stephen's house. We went there, and again found my wide band beginning at the bend of the road, and extending a hundred feet to the west.

We then went to see my good friend, Vance Tucker, a half mile to the north. The three of us walked up into his field. I looked to the south, drew another imaginary line, and again within about five paces, found my underground band. It is maybe 100 feet to the west of Vance's house.

From there we drove straight to Terry Fisher's house. The fault, and the wide band of pooled water, is midway between his house and where the hot spring comes out of the ground. The hot spring is maybe 100 feet to the west of the fault. I didn't make any measurements, but will do so next time. We put our hands in the creek that comes from the spring. The water was a little warmer than our hands, a very pleasant temperature.

I want one of my sons to make this same excursion with me, and to pinpoint GPS coordinates on his phone. I'm expecting the fault to make a perfectly straight line on a map. I need to find out how far the line goes both north and south.