I went to participate with the Second Saturday Shoreline Spruce-up at White Rock Lake in Dallas this morning. The designated parking area (as per the the information page on the website) was packed when I arrived and the next closest parking was almost a half-mile away. Not a problem. I parked, climbed in my kayak, and paddled out towards the bridges over the end of the lake.
I had seen these bridges during my previous visit to the lake and wanted to explore the area beneath them. As I paddled towards them, I could see the closer, smaller bridge was for foot traffic. It accommodated all of the walkers, joggers and bicycles that circled the lake for exercise. The larger bridge beyond carried all of the vehicular traffic a safe distance away from the pedestrians.
Beneath these two bridges, it turns out, is the greatest collection of used beverage containers imaginable. Its like a museum of beer and energy drink cans. There were foreign and domestic labels, high energy, low carb, high alcohol content, low sugar, some never-before-seen brands and even a few that had been submerged so long under the constant, gentle, lapping waves of the lake that there was no trace of the original label.
Amidst all of this was Ann and Becky from Bank of America. They are regular volunteers of the Second Saturday Shoreline Spruce-up and were quite familiar with the area in addition to being equipped with plastic glove, an abundance of company-provided garbage bags and a couple of those little extended gripper thingies that I imagine were once designed to reach the top of grocery store shelves.
Recognizing that, even if they weren't part of the specific group I was seeking, we were all part of the same group in the sense that we had the same kindred spirit of wanting to help the "friends of the lake" and were there to get as much trash removed as possible.
I paddled up and greeted them and they were kind enough to toss me a small roll of garbage bags. I spent the next couple hours paddling around the area and trying to remove as much of the man-made detriment in the zone beyond the few feet that Ann and Becky might conceivably reach with their grocery store grabbers. I filled a couple large garbage bags and even managed to finess a used tire out of a tree, balance it on the front of my kayak, and row it over to the ladies who helped me wrestle it onto the shore to be picked up later.
I am particularly proud of this one event for a couple reasons. First, I am amazed my boat didn't wind up capsized and, secondly, the success of each group's collection efforts is usually measured by how many pounds they collected. Needless to say, a single automobile tire can be "quite the catch"when added to the bags filled with lightweight plastic coated with mud, snail tracks and the exoskeletons of assorted insects, all of which weigh virtually nothing.
Anyhow, the lake is somewhat cleaner, I got plenty of fresh air, sunshine and exercise, and the friends of the lake continue their ongoing streak of uninterrupted "Second Saturdays" since some time in 1995. After paddling back to the dock, finding my truck, and deciding it would be safest if I sought lunch from the safety of a drive-thru lane instead of risking entering a public building while still smelling like a lake, I was re-energized and reasonably content I had accomplished something worthwhile before noon on a Saturday.
Not knowing this group existed prior to last week, I could not imagine what the lake and the surrounding park would look like if this clean-up crew did not perform this monthly function. The sheer mass of trash I saw piled along the edges of the lake as I drove out, bagged and piled neatly by the other groups of volunteers spread throughout the park, was astounding.
Kudos to the friends of the lake program at White Rock Lake. You will see me again some time soon, I am sure.
