Rock is out of the hole! That's as far as we got for today, because it turns out that getting it out and dragging it into the back yard are two different things. We must reassess and re-equip.
This is how it happened:
My rock-moving neighbors brought tow straps and a small truck that thinks it's a big badass truck and loves to jump into harness and show off. The process is in pictures below. It took more than one tug, but we always made forward progress. None of that Sisyphus shit I swore to avoid.
And all because I wanted some dirt.
Next is phase 2 - dragging it about 200 feet into the back yard. We have a tentative plan. But before we leave the south west corner of my property, let me take you back to when The Rock was still nestled in its hole, resting happily where the last glacier left it about 14,000 years ago. I took a picture looking across the top of it, to a spot about twenty feet away. Do you see what's poking out of the grass?
Yes, it's the barely exposed top of another large rock. Perhaps The Rock's little sister. Or . . . (cue the Jaws music) its Big Brother. Will we ever find out which? Oh, something tells me we will.