In other words, I'm accustomed to getting my hands dirty. And all the other parts of me dirty for that matter. So, when Jeff's company planned a day to volunteer at Radnor Lake Natural Area, I was in.
Saturday morning was full of sun and encouraging our lazy butts to get out of bed at 6am. After donning our matching t-shirts, our WHITE matching t-shirts, we devoured eggs and toast before making our way to Radnor Lake.
What a beautiful, peaceful place. We must visit more often. I was so glad that, prior to the group getting organized, Jeff and I strolled a little ways up the road to take in the bird calls and completely still lake. I probably hadn't felt so relaxed in months, which is very much the opposite of what I felt like a few hours later.
Two park guide/ security guard/ ranger-like people greeted and thanked us all for coming out before splitting us up into two groups. Our group followed LA (short for Lee Ann?) to the opposite side of the park on foot. Most of us were confused by the 20-minute walk since it seemed that that time would be better spent working than a scenic stroll, but we were there to follow directions not make suggestions. I chatted with a few of Jeff's coworkers while he made rounds making new acquaintances.
After a bend in the road, we reached a very long pile of mulch and an equally long row of wheelbarrows. LA explained that due to flooding, sections of the hiking trails had been worn down. Our task was to move as much of the 200 cubic yards of mulch as possible to another spot in the woods up the trail. I went to grab a couple of bottles of water for Jeff and myself while he searched the tub of work gloves for two matching pairs. Several people teased Jeff for taking so long, as it appeared he was trying to find the nicest pair. LA then proceeded to hike the 25 or so of us up the trail while Jeff continued to sort through the tub. He finally found two satisfactory pairs and jogged up the hill to meet me just to find out that he'd gotten me two right-hand gloves. After all that!
LA marched us in at least 3/4 of a mile before she located the area that the much was to be dumped at. Backing up and spreading out, fire brigade-style, we made our way back down the trail. Jeff and I were about 8 people from the start of the trail with a bit more than 10 yards between us. I put my right glove on then tried my other right glove backwards. Though it wasn't the most comfortable, I'm pretty positive it was better than nothing.
Only a few minutes passed before the first full wheelbarrow made it's way to me. Jeff passed it off with a peck on my cheek. I continued pushing it, slightly up hill, to a nice lady in a tie-dye t-shirt from another organization. We continued this while I counted the wheelbarrows. At number 12, the first empty cart came back down the hill. Our pace seemed commendable, the mosquitos were visiting some other part of the forest, and birds chirped about. The morning was off to a great start.
By wheelbarrow 20, our peppiness slightly wore off but our spirits were still high. We all greeted the hikers and walkers who passed by like it was our job. A few good samaritans even took a wheelbarrow up the hill with them. Though it seemed like a nice gesture, it threw a kink in our well-oiled machine. From then on we had a major back-up a few volunteers down the line from where the hikers parted ways with the load. In the meantime, a few people left and others took bathroom breaks, so we were moving wheelbarrows 30 to 40 yards each direction. We had quite a queu of full and empty wheelbarrows. Several of us began stacking one wheelbarrow inside another in order to move them out of the way quicker. I lost count of the wheelbarrows.
By 10:00 we'd been going at it for over an hour and would've bet the farm that the huge pile of mulch was nearly gone. We would've lost the every last chicken. Only 1/4 of it had been loaded and moved!
With a lovely breeze and plenty of water, we high-fived each other and stepped up the pace. The muscles in my forearms, shoulders, and neck were absolutely screaming by 11; I was doing everything in my power just to keep going.
But keep going we did until 11:30 when the last emptied wheelbarrow was tipped up on its nose against the fence. The righty gloves kept my hands from getting dirty or renewing old calluses but left a rather unpleasant, musty smell. The smelly group of us walked back over to the visitor center where we'd first met up to relax with a catered lunch from Jersey Mike's, which definitely hit the spot.
It felt good to be tired and dirty from "playing" in the forest. I'm already looking forward to the next time I'll be in need of some worker gloves. I'll keep my fingers crossed for a matching pair.
