Der Schlep
Most people glorify the act of building, the transformation of a humble pile of building materials into a noble sauna or house or shed. I like to think that, too. I believe that my profession is a noble one, with an emphasis on craftsmanship and attention to detail that can only be honed by decades of working with fine materials. But the truth is, on any given day, on any given project—especially for on-site work where I take my tools and materials, my truck and trailer, my lunch and my laptop and various other accoutrements—I am often just a professional schlepper. And I bet any other contractor reading this just now nodded their head.
I love building saunas that are removed from the house, perhaps beyond the garden gates or down by the lake or out in the woods next to a pond. I like to work immersed in nature, take lunch by the water, and contemplate the finer things in life while I toil at my craft.
But when I bid jobs like these, I have learned to think of the schlep: The sum total distance from truck to the site. I think of thousands of steps back and forth to carry lumber, to retrieve the pencil or glasses from the cab, of the stairs I have to climb, or the potential for slipping and falling with a hundred pound load on my shoulder. I have literally carried an entire 8’x12′ sauna on my shoulders, load by load. Some days I count the steps and do the math—how many miles I wonder? Other times I count the load—a ton of concrete mix, how much work was that?
I don’t mind the schlep. The key is to embrace it. If I know from the scale of the schlep from start and plan for it—clear a path, remove obstacles, make ramps—then I can proceed slowly but with the steadiness of a Yoga master moving through a progression of poses. Each repeated carry is perfected in the same way a bobsled driver learns to lean through each curve.
With two or more people, it is a choreographed movement. Go left here, stoop here, K-turn at the end, and dosey-do before we enter the door. Perfecting the movement makes it almost enjoyable.
At sixty, I have to protect my body. I know my strengths and limits, and my strength is knowing how to carry and move heavy objects. Always keep one hand free—you never know when you’ll have to counter an off balance step. Always be relaxed and take smaller loads—there is no race. It is amazing what you can achieve in an hour of honest schlepping. Ironically, when I have a spell of days or weeks when my back is out and the chiropractor is needed, it’s always the stupid stuff that caused it: desk work (I stand at my desk now), shoveling snow, or that heroic effort to rake all the leaves in one Sunday. These tasks are unintentional actions. Work with intention, and you will become stronger. Work smarter, and you will avoid injury. I really like those sixty pound concrete bags… and I’m eyeing those forty pounders. At nineteen, everything came in hundreds.
I’ve had jobs where the schlep caught me off guard, like the sauna cabin in the woods where I was promised an ATV to haul everything. After the first week, three feet of snow put the brakes on that. Everything had to be hauled in on a sled with me in snowshoes. Good thing I loved those Jack London stories as a kid.
But then, I’ve been pleasantly surprised, too, like at a recent job on the lake where the haul was several hundred feet down steep stairs or a windy path. Eventually, the owners produced a golf cart. It became my mini truck and my morning joy, as I breezed down the hill silently. There is a beauty to electric vehicles—the joy of still hearing nature as you whizz through it.
I’ve thought of offering classes on schlepping or even rigging (a specialized form of schlep that involves more weight, more dance, more cooperation). We would move things each day. And then maybe move them back again. Everyone has it wrong about Sisyphus. If the enjoyment of the act of moving becomes the goal, rather than the completion of the act, then the schlepper can be seen as a master perfecting their craft. Like a cat that keeps hitting the toy away only to chase it again, a worker who carries load after load and enjoys the process will reach the goal of pleasure in their work.
And only when a worker enjoys his or her work is true craftsmanship possible.
