My Trip Up North and These Poles
Just got back from a drive through Michigan, you know? And man, you see a lot of poles up there. I’m not just talking about your regular telephone poles holding up wires, though there’s plenty of those.
I started really noticing them. These other ones. Sometimes they were old, weathered things, sticking out of the ground near a collapsing barn. Other times, newer, sturdier looking ones, maybe for a dock down by a lake, or holding up a deer blind way back in the woods. It got me thinking, just watching them go by.
What It Made Me Remember
It threw me back, way back, to this one project me and my buddy Tom decided to tackle. We weren’t in Michigan then, this was downstate, but it was all about poles. Tom had this idea for a big ol’ deck. Not one of those fancy pre-fab things. Nope. We were gonna build it from scratch. And the foundation? Big, solid poles sunk into the ground.
Talk about a learning experience. We thought, how hard can it be, right? Get some poles, dig some holes, pour some concrete. Easy. Hah!
- First, we had to actually get the poles. We found this place, an old lumber mill, felt like stepping back in time. Getting those heavy things onto my old truck was an adventure in itself. Nearly threw my back out.
- Then the digging. Oh, the digging. The ground was full of rocks and roots. We rented one of those post-hole diggers, the auger type? Fought us the whole way.
- Mixing concrete by hand in a wheelbarrow. I swear, I can still feel that ache in my shoulders just thinking about it. We were covered in sweat and dirt.
- And getting those poles perfectly upright and level? That took more fussing and cussing than I care to admit. We used levels, string lines, everything we could think of.
We spent a solid two weekends just getting those darn poles set. There were moments, man, where we just stood there, looking at each other, thinking, ‘What have we gotten ourselves into?’ Tom, he’s usually pretty chill, but even he was getting frustrated. I remember him kicking one of the poles, not hard, just out of sheer exasperation. Didn’t budge, thankfully. That concrete was setting up good.
Seeing Them Different Now
But we did it. We got ’em in. And that deck, it lasted for years. Solid as a rock, mostly because of those poles we sweated over. So now, when I see poles like those ones up in Michigan, whether they’re holding up a power line, a ‘No Trespassing’ sign, or the corner of an old fishing shanty, I kinda nod, you know?
I think about the work that went into putting them there. Someone had to dig, someone had to set ’em straight. They’re not just sticks in the ground. They’re like little monuments to effort. And that Michigan trip, seeing all those different kinds, it just brought all that back. Made me appreciate the simple, sturdy things a bit more. It’s funny what a long drive and a few old poles can make you think about, eh?
