Let me tell you about the summer I learned that <a href="https://onemanplants.com/building-my-off-grid-rainwater-system/"><a href="https://onemanplants.com/building-my-off-grid-rainwater-system/">rainwater systems</a></a> don't maintain themselves. This was back in 2020, maybe eight months after I'd gotten my first setup running. I was feeling pretty confident about the whole operation – two 275-gallon tanks connected to our downspout, basic filtration, the works. Linda was happy because her garden was thriving with all that free water, and I was pleased with myself for building something that actually worked without any drama.
Then August hit. We'd had this stretch of really hot, humid weather with no rain for about three weeks, which isn't unusual for Texas summers. What I didn't realize was that the water sitting in my tanks was basically turning into a science experiment. The smell hit me first – walked out to check the system one morning and got hit with this overwhelming stench that made me gag. It was like someone had mixed rotten eggs with pond scum and left it in the sun for a month.
Linda came out to see what I was cursing about and immediately backed away. "Jeff, what did you do to that water?" Nothing, that was the problem. I'd been so focused on getting the system built and operational that I'd completely ignored the maintenance side. Those tanks had been sitting there for months with the same water, collecting organic matter, growing algae, basically fermenting in the heat. It was disgusting.
Spent that entire weekend draining, scrubbing, and trying to get the smell out of those tanks. Used bleach, vinegar, baking soda – pretty much everything under the kitchen sink. Linda banned me from coming inside until I'd showered and changed clothes because I smelled like I'd been swimming in a swamp. Our neighbor Pete made some crack about it smelling like something died in our yard, which wasn't far from wrong.
That disaster taught me that <a href="https://onemanplants.com/building-my-off-grid-rainwater-system/">rainwater harvesting</a> isn't a set-it-and-forget-it kind of thing. You've got to stay on top of it or you'll end up with what I now call "swamp soup" instead of usable irrigation water. So I developed a maintenance routine that's kept my system running clean for the past four years.
Every couple weeks, usually on Saturday mornings with my coffee, I do what I call my walkthrough inspection. Takes maybe twenty minutes but saves me from major problems down the road. First thing I check is all the filters and screens. I've got mesh screening at the downspout connection, at the first-flush diverter, and at each tank inlet. These catch leaves, twigs, that black granular stuff that comes off roof shingles, and occasionally some truly weird debris – found a kid's toy soldier in there once, no idea how it got on our roof.
Spring is the worst for filter cleaning because everything's shedding pollen. Our oak trees dump so much yellow dust that the screens look like they've been spray-painted. I keep an old toothbrush in my tool bucket specifically for scrubbing this stuff off the mesh. Takes a few minutes per screen but it's worth it to keep the junk out of the tanks.
While I'm at it, I check all the connections and fittings for leaks. Texas heat makes everything expand and contract, so joints that were tight in February might be weeping by July. Usually just needs a quarter-turn with a wrench, but I've learned to catch these early before they turn into bigger problems. Lost probably fifty gallons once from a loose fitting I didn't notice for a week.
I also test the water quality during these quick checks. Nothing fancy – just pH test strips and a visual inspection. Good rainwater should be clear with a pH around 6.5. If it's cloudy or smells off or the pH is way out of range, that's my signal to dig deeper and figure out what's wrong.
Once a month I do the full maintenance routine, which takes about an hour and involves actually getting into the system. The first-flush diverter gets cleaned out completely – this thing catches the first few gallons of runoff from each rain, which contains most of the roof debris and contaminants. Has a valve at the bottom that I open to drain it, and you'd be amazed what comes out of there. Looks like chocolate milk sometimes, especially after we've had dry spells.
I also skim any floating debris off the water surface in the tanks and check the spigots for mineral buildup. Hard water here means calcium deposits form gradually and can reduce flow. Learned this the hard way when I spent an hour trying to figure out why my drip system wasn't getting enough pressure, only to discover the tank outlet was half-clogged with mineral scale.
Seasonal maintenance is where things get more involved. Fall preparation is critical because even here in central Texas, we get occasional freezes that could crack fittings or damage pumps. I drain the entire system in late November, clean everything with a diluted vinegar solution to kill any algae or bacteria, then disconnect and store the more delicate components indoors.
Most popular
The tanks themselves stay outside but I cover the openings with mesh to keep debris out while allowing air circulation. Learned to do this after finding a dead possum in one of my tanks one spring – apparently it fell through an uncovered opening and couldn't get out. That was not a pleasant discovery.
Spring startup involves reconnecting everything, testing all the connections, and doing a thorough cleaning before I start collecting water again. I always let the first good rain of the season run off without collecting it, gives the roof a chance to wash clean after winter. Then it's back to regular operation.
The maintenance isn't complicated, but it's absolutely necessary. My current setup provides about 400 gallons of storage capacity and supplies roughly 70% of our garden's water needs from April through October. That's a significant chunk of our irrigation that doesn't come from the city supply, doesn't contain chlorine or fluoride, and gives Linda's plants the slightly acidic water they seem to prefer.
I've noticed our tomatoes in particular do better with rainwater than with municipal water. Had some blight issues a few years back and switching entirely to rainwater for those plants seemed to help clear it up. The extension office suggested the chlorine in city water might have been stressing the plants and making them more susceptible to disease.
Plus there's something satisfying about using water that fell from the sky instead of paying the city to deliver it through miles of pipes. When I see a good thunderstorm building up, I actually get excited thinking about how much free water I'm about to collect. Linda thinks I'm nuts for checking the tank levels after every rain, but hey, it's my hobby.
The system has paid for itself several times over in reduced water bills, but honestly that's not why I maintain it so religiously. I just can't stand the thought of going back to that horrible smell and having to start over from scratch. Plus I've gotten kind of obsessive about water quality and system efficiency – occupational hazard of being an electrician, I guess. We're trained to maintain things properly so they keep working.
My neighbor Dave installed a similar setup last year and asked me to help him get started. First thing I told him was that the installation is just the beginning – it's the ongoing maintenance that determines whether you end up with clean irrigation water or a backyard biohazard. He's been pretty good about staying on top of it, though I notice he doesn't check his system quite as often as I check mine.
Looking back, that awful summer when my tanks turned into swamp soup was probably the best thing that could have happened. Taught me respect for the maintenance side and gave me some stories that make people pay attention when I'm explaining why regular upkeep matters. Nobody wants to deal with that smell or the cleanup that comes with it.
These days my system runs clean and reliable year-round. The maintenance routine is just part of my weekend schedule now, like mowing the lawn or checking tire pressure. Takes maybe an hour a month total, and in return I get hundreds of gallons of high-quality irrigation water that keeps Linda's garden thriving even during our brutal summer dry spells.
Jeff’s an Austin electrician who built his own rainwater and drip-irrigation systems to beat Texas droughts. He writes about DIY efficiency—practical builds that save water, money, and marriages. Expect honest lessons, smart hacks, and plenty of PVC fittings.
