huey

Today i broke concrete.
Long slabs planted in our backyard, bordering the lawn. Each slab is 18" wide, 15' long, and 8" deep. My housemate thought renting a jackhammer was the way to go, but i've always preferred manual tools. I originally went to hardware stores looking for some kind of reinforced iron pickaxe. A clerk suggested a large sledgehammer.
I got a large sledgehammer.
How large?
So large that Home Depot doesn't carry one this big.
Twenty pounds.
It is a curious coincidence that the film THOR is in theaters.
Most people will never see, much less use, a twenty-pound sledge. It amuses me that most people would not be excited at the prospect of doing so.
I took out the first slab in a few hours the day i brought huey home (i named it just this minute). I'm no excess-testosteroned fool (well...); the trick of course is not the application of brute force, but letting the tool do the work for you.
Still, it's a bit of a rush.
When i took my first swing, i wasn't even sure the tool was up to the job. Eight inches of concrete is an awful lot. Had i wasted $40? Should i put a towel down for the first whack, so that i could try to return the sledge as unused?
Huey is the right tool.
Usually two or three well-placed whacks will cause a split.
The first slab was made tough by thin metal poles inside the concrete, each the width of a very large nail. Persistent bending and twisting breaks them.
Today, i started around noon. It was 89 degrees at 2:00. I'm not impressed with people who are impressed with humidity, but it was pretty sauna-like. I like heat, and i love work like this. Why, i'm not exactly sure. Something about the mindless simplicity of it, the pure physicality. Did you ever read "Shane"? The impression that the tree-stump section made on my adolescent mind, very few pieces of writing have ever touched me as deeply. I felt a deep recognition and exhilaration...
The second two slabs presented a harder challenge, snugged as they are side by side, making an "L". My first discovery was a happy one. The horizontal slab had no metal poles. The vertical slab, however, did.
In the heat, i was going inside for water every fifteen minutes or so. I can be zealous, but i've had heat exhaustion once in my life, and don't need to flirt with it again. I was two thirds finished with the horizontal slab, and had made the proper splits in one third of the vertical slab, when i stopped. I did so because of a pole i unearthed running along the concrete. Gas? Water? I didn't think it was an operational pipe, as there was a little hole in the end, and it seemed hollow. One of our house tenants was concerned though, and i agreed it might be wise to ask Yogeesh about the pipe before proceeding.
When i was younger, it might have bothered me to not finish in one day. Something to do with beastial pride. To push oneself because one can, in a world where taking the easy choice is a way of life, is a big part of who i am. But wisdom teaches one that the concrete will still be there tomorrow. Going down the road of beastial pride can make for accomplishment, but it's also rife with spiritual pitfalls...humans cannot control the forces of nature by sheer will, a lesson we ignore at our peril.
Of course, how long would i have labored away in that sauna, had i not been interrupted by that pipe? Ah heck, never mind the pipe. I would have kept going, if the tenant hadn't spoken up. Stopping when i did was sensible, though. I was plenty baked, including sunburn on head and arms (and my knees, strangely, because of holes in my pants).
Come back, huey...

P.S. The following day, i broke concrete again. It was ten degrees cooler, and i was forced to face the possibility that i'm not impervious to extremes of heat (or even, gasp, "humidity"). The previous day, i was constantly aware of the heat and the need to keep hydrating. This day, i had to remember to drink water and felt like i could go on forever.