I’m going to try mudjacking in front of my Benicia house, and I’ll let you know how it goes.
I first learned of mudjacking a few years ago while in Pennsylvania while standing in front of our 120-year-old house staring at our 120-year-old sidewalk. Each section of the slate sidewalk was tilted in its own special direction due to shouldering ancient trees that lined the street and choked the sewer lines and raised the sidewalks and provided such sweet shade and blooming beauty that we found it easy to look the other way when regarding the crooked sidewalks. Then we would fall down because we were looking the other way.
As I surveyed the neighborhood, I noticed several of the gentrified old homes like mine had brand new flat and level concrete sidewalks poured in around their perimeters. My section of sidewalk was a catawampus upheaval that made an afternoon stroll into a funhouse of balance and poise.
Luckily, I’m not the only homeowner with crooked sidewalks. The city hasn’t complained, perhaps because my street is so seldom driven that most pedestrians walk down the middle of the road where it’s safer. Still it bothers me, but I’m reluctant to dispose of the ancient, and way cool, slate slabs. They have heritage and character that is lacking in the beige concretized runways around me.
So, I was standing there complaining to Gino, my contractor friend. “What to do?” I asked with my arms up. “Do I give in and pour cement and make it bland and predictable, or just put up a few caution signs and plant soft-landing shrubbery?”
“Try mudjacking,” said Gino.
“What is mudjacking,” I asked, and that is how I learned about it. I haven’t yet mudjacked my Pennsylvania sidewalk, but I may try mudjacking here in Benicia.
Mudjacking involves drilling small holes in sequence along sunken concrete slabs and then injecting a solidifying mud through the use of a high pressure pump and hose. Exact measurements are made with surveying equipment to determine the volume of each injection, and when finished, the uneven surfaces are flush once again. It is a ton cheaper than busting out crooked concrete slabs and pouring new ones.
We live on a hill here. Hill creep has over the years caused most everything to lean downhill. The trees on our street lean. Fences lean. Retaining walls lean. Concrete leans. The leaning fences and trees are a visual disturbance only, but leaning concrete that is walked upon is not cool.
I have two projects I’m considering. The small job is to level the walkway from our porch out to the sidewalk. Three six-foot sections are cocked to the side like Sam’s Harbor. When people leave my house after a party, if not careful, it’s possible for them to list to the right and end up in my azaleas.
I had a mudjacking company representative come out and give me a free estimate of $1,500. Sometime this summer, I plan to hire this polite young man to come out and level my sidewalk.
If I like how it comes out, I’ll invite him to proceed to the downslope side of my house where my entire sidewalk to the backyard is similarly cocked downhill. That would cost about triple. Still, it’s a bargain compared to ripping out tons of perfectly good sideways cement slabs, busting them up, and sending them off to a landfill simply because they were on a tilt. I’ll try this sidewalk Botox approach first.
Speaking of crooked fences, I’ve replaced every section of my redwood fence completely around my property one section at a time over 30 years, with only one original section remaining, listing badly, rotting sadly, sagging madly, right along my tilted sidewalk. Well, the heavy winds that came with the last storm blew that fence down.
It forced my hand, and I spent the last three days building a new fence.
However, it was easy because ten years ago I did work on this fence section. I replaced the rotting redwood fence posts with pressure treated fir and straightened them at the same time. I reattached the original sections of redwood fence because they were old but in fine condition. Now the fence was falling apart, but the posts were solid, though they leaned a bit in ten years.
Similar to my sidewalk slabs, my fence posts were in fine condition, just on a tilt. Why rip them out and pour new concrete? I extrapolated on the mudjacking idea and screwed four-inch shims onto the top of each post, then attached the fence boards to fresh, level crossbeams. It looks right as rain.
I think I’m going to start using the term mudjacking in new ways to describe cheap fixes to otherwise expensive problems. For example, the tailgate of my old pickup got bent in by Gino backing up without looking. Instead of replacing it, I covered it in bumper stickers. I mudjacked it. In fact, if you think about it, I could have spent these 800 words solving the political disputes facing our nation. Instead, I mudjacked it.

Steve Gibbs is a retired Benicia High School teacher who has written a column for The Herald since 1985.

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