Today was about the only half decent day to work outside in the last few weeks (and looks like for the next week, too,) So Kim and I went over to the antique machinery club grounds to sort and stack RR ties… 1:1, jeezly heavy, used ties. The guy who had delivered them had simply dumped them in a big jumble - like a pile of overgrowed pick-up sticks… Making them into two neat piles - one of mostly good ones and one of termite bait - required moving a few of them 3 times…
Even with tie tongs it took us about 4 hours. ----- OK, there were only around 30 ties. But Kim has bad feet, I got bum knees and something like asthma… So here we were stumbling around like a couple drunks, and I’m puffing, wheezing and snorting like a worn out locomotive— and we’re both desperately trying not to drop the bloody things on each other.
We weren’t actually doing too badly (fish one out of the pile, roll it over to inspect it, drag it over to whichever stack, hoist it up, repeat for two or three more, then cough for a while, repeat) until about the halfway point when Kim tripped, and I ended up catching the whole weight of (one end) a switch tie with a jar…
Where’s Ben Gay when you really need him?
And the truly sad thing is, we’re probably going to have to move them all at least twice more… and hoist at least few about 8 feet in the air to build the new bridge abutment! A Bobcat would be nice, but it won’t fit under the bridge.
I’m thinking A-frame and rope blocks…