"Well, here I am," I thought as I parked the car on Big Ranch Road, actually "walking the walk." I knew "talking the talk" was the easy part and this project was going to require some honest work. Today, it was time to put some muscle behind my big mouth.

This scenario had started innocently enough. A week before, when taking my morning stroll along Big Ranch Road, I decided to call someone about the ugly amount of trash littering this busy thoroughfare. The City of Napa street department was the first on my list. After locating a responsible person, I was asked what address on Big Ranch Road I was talking about, because the city only had partial responsibility. Some homes were city and some homes were county. It was not a clear-cut proposition, and I hung up a bit confused.

My second call was to the County of Napa road department, which confirmed that many homes along this stretch do not fall under the county's jurisdiction. Could I describe which particular portion of the road I am concerned about? Yikes! Right away, I knew this wasn't going to be an easy fix.

The nice folks at the County road department, Nancy Garrett and Tom Danser, invited me to their facility on Silverado Trail to discuss my plan in more detail. When I arrived, I was told if that I wanted to get personally involved, they would provide the clean-up materials. As an incentive, I could even have a portion of the maintained street named after me. Wow! That would make my mother proud, but I decided to keep a low profile. No sense making enemies of the wackos who toss trash as if it were their inalienable right.

So, there I was, on Sunday morning, ready to do my duty as a trash-hating citizen. First, I laced up the bright red plastic vest, hoping it would catch the eye of oncoming drivers before they clipped me. I also grabbed one of the gray plastic bags from the stack I was provided by Garrett. Most important, I had the essential implement: a red-handled, Deluxe Gopher pick up and reaching tool. This would be my magic wand against the awful offal.

At first, I felt a little foolish. Maybe passing motorists would think I was on special assignment from the local jail, paying off some littering offense. Somebody might even run over me as I was dragging my bag of trash alongside the road. How embarrassing that would be! But once I got into it, these doubts fell away and I just concentrated on grabbin' and baggin'.

I quickly noted that most of the trash was paper and plastic products once used for carryout food and beverages. Easy to spot were some gallon-sized plastic jugs, beer bottles of every description and soda cans galore. Snaring some of these items proved to be a challenge, and by the end of my run, my hands were sore.

The worst portion seemed to be from Trancas north to the city bridge, maybe an eighth of a mile. Guess that's where most of the trash-tossers finished their take-out meals and conveniently emptied their cars. Nice touch.

Hundreds of spent cigarettes dotted the road like confetti, along with their empty packs. By my informal survey, it appears that Marlboro users are the worst offenders. Picking up numerous Starbucks cups, I had to wonder if so-called "latte drinkers" are really that concerned about the ecology. At $4 a cup, you'd think they could afford to carry their trash back home.

After about an hour and a half, I'd worked up a light sweat and had successfully dodged speeding cars along Big Ranch Road. I'd cleaned about a half-mile of road, filling up two large plastic bags with refuse. I tied these up and left them by the bridge for a promised pickup by the city. Walking back to my car, I promised myself I'd come back next week and fill a couple more.

On the way home, I had to chuckle. I may not have much power to influence the political debate, but on my little stretch of road, I had made a small, but important, difference. I had truly talked trash and walked the walk. It was a pretty good feeling.

(Fiori lives in Napa.)