Betty: You know, I didn't know a lot about the water, because my interest was with the horse, and ah. . . you didn't do much irrigating with a horse.
NW: Oh.
Betty: But I do know that the. . . the water came from the Zapata Falls, and they had a flume that carried. . . picked it up at the Zapata Falls, and this flume went right along the edge of the. . . of the mountain for a. . . oh, I suppose, a mile, coming down, and then ah. . . was emptied into a stream bed, to where it would come down onto the ranch. So I went up there once with my father. Ah. . . of course, during the winter, lots of times, rocks would fall into the flume, and ah. . . or snow would knock it. . . knock it down or something, so before he could turn the water down, he always had to go up and check the flume out. And we rode horseback up to the bottom end of the flume, and then ah. . . he put me on his shoulders and walked up that flume to the falls, checking everything on the way, and the same way back. There were crossbars on the flume, about that far apart, and he just walked up the flume. I didn't think about it then, great experience. But as I think now—uphill, and walking that flume in many areas was way, way above the. . . the ground. And he didn't think anything about it. We just walked up there and checked everything out, and came back down to our horses. One of the experiences of my childhood that I really remember.