Gophers are rodents that burrow underground. Their tunnels are a maze that can stretch for hundreds of feet in all directions. They feed on the roots of plants and are devastating to lawns and gardens. Gophers surface periodically, creating mounds of dirt that stall lawnmowers and make yards look like a patchwork blanket of green and brown colors.
Several years ago, I owned a home in Phoenix, Arizona. Every time I tried to mow the lawn, the mower would get hung up in the gopher mounds. My front lawn was about one hundred feet wide and about forty feet from the house to the street. That calculated to four thousand square feet of lawn. Each gopher-hole mound measured 1-1/2 feet in diameter. There were fifteen mounds in the front yard. The back yard was larger so there were many more mounds out there.
Now, whenever I get disgusted about something, I start mumbling to myself. My son knew this and he happened to be talking to the young couple next door when I started mumbling. He told them that they might want to go in the house because his dad was going to do something weird.
After a half dozen times of stalling my lawnmower, I went to my camper trailer, in my driveway, and took the 5-gallon propane bottle from its mount. I attached a hose to the bottle, stuck the other end into a gopher hole and turned on the gas. I left the gas running while I went into the house for lunch.
After lunch, I came back out to find the propane bottle empty, so I replaced it in the rack on the camper trailer. Now you have to understand that propane gas is not like other gasses. Propane, like water, seeks its lowest level. I stood over the gopher hole where I pumped the gas and lit a match.
Things happened so fast that I couldn’t keep up with them in my mind. According to my memory, our house did a complete flip in the air. Actually, I think the flip was done by me although I can’t attest to it.
As I recall, there was a tremendous BOOM. There were flames spouting two feet high from every gopher hole in the immediate neighborhood. The rounded, concrete curb in front of our house cracked. Neighbors behind our house thought a volcano was trying to erupt because they saw the flaming spouts in their yards. Our dog, in the back yard, nearly went crazy. Wherever he ran, there were shooting flames.
Well, to make a long story as short as possible, I had a headache and ringing ears for about a week. Our neighborhood had been free of Gophers for a couple of years when I moved away. I like to think that I did a community service in that neighborhood, but I know that I would never make a good exterminator. I thank all the Saints that that propane bottle wasn’t a fifteen-gallon tank.
Sources: Personal experience
