Manpowered extraction action

It was 37 degrees, damp and windy. The perfect day to be IN a hot tub.

The hard part was going to be pushing the dang thing up the hill. Everybody knew that. The head ramrod from Premier Spas asked if he could just drive his truck down the hill and onto the back yard. Stan said No. They didn't use a truck when they moved it in, didn't need to tear up the sod getting it back out now. There were five men here, he continued, and that should be enough muscle to do the job and if it wasn't enough, we could always ask "the wife."
That settled it.
After about seven years of not being used hardly at all, we decided we'd let the hot tub go. Tried to give it away as a wedding present to a reluctant couple; tried to trade it to the local golf superintendent in exchange for helping Stan to break 80. Two unsuccessful schemes.
Then along came Richard and Cheryl, friends of a friend, who thought a hot tub would be just the thing for the grandkids at their Orono digs. The win-win deal was consummated in our basement, a demonstration arranged, and a date set for tub extraction.
Today was the big day, right on time three fellows from the tub company arrived with a heavy-duty trailer that looked like it weighed more than the tub. We tugged and strapped the tub in place and the load looked very heavy.
But once we got our momentum up, five guys pushed the whole shootin' match up the steep hill onto the road. Bam. There was never a doubt.
"The wife" served hot coffee and took these dandy pictures.

Richard, the proud owner in white sweatshirt, stood at the top of
the hill with his extraction crew. (Photos and coffee by Katie)