Eleven Days Later
Eleven days after I posted about what I found at Stoney Creek, I drove past that same spot on my way home. I pulled over.
Three hours. no bucket, no tongs — just a hockey bag someone had left behind, filled over and over and dragged up the hill.
Partway through, a stranger stopped his car, ready to give me grief for "dumping garbage" on the roadside. Once he understood what was actually happening, he just said thanks and drove off.
Then a man named Trevor walked by. He put on a pair of gloves and worked alongside me for the rest of the afternoon.
This is what one afternoon looks like. I still don't have the permanent fix. Until I do, I'll keep coming back.
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