Regular readers will recall me spending much of the late wet winter bitching about the mud on Laddie’s path, in the ashfield at the foot of the ridge. I thought caliche clay made the worst mud, but that was before I moved here and met volcanic ash.
In February I hauled in some flat rocks and tubs of sand from the wash. The rocks weren’t much help – the sand was, but bringing it in two tubs at a time took a lot of time and effort and spread it too thin.
Enter a stranger, who rode in from the west…
He hauled while I shoveled and raked, and an hour and a half later the whole path was thick with wash sand which ought to help a lot later in the summer when/if it turns wet again.
We were on a roll so we fixed my second least favorite muddy spot, in front of the burn barrel(s).