On a morning prematurely released from winter's grasp, I needed a reason to get outside and stay there. So I e-mailed Boris Weinstein, even if that meant getting up close and personal with Pittsburgh's uglier bits.

Mr. Weinstein, 76, is the acclaimed founder of Citizens Against Litter. When I suggested I'd stumbled across a blind spot in his zone defense against empty chip bags and cans, he agreed to accompany me to the scene of the grime.

"I was going to go out and pick up litter anyway,'' he said.

He was already outside his Shadyside home when I drove up. Before getting in the car, he handed me a junior-sized litter picker. Maybe two feet long, with a trigger at the handle and a pinching device on the other end, it is all any anti-slob about town needs.

Soon enough, after taking a Panther Hollow shortcut, we were walking along the Eliza Furnace Trail, plastic bags in one hand and litter pickers in the other.

More commonly known as the Jail Trail, the path shoots runners, walkers and bicyclists between Downtown and Oakland amid the soothing sounds of the Parkway East. On a long cold Thursday afternoon walk I took almost two weeks ago, litter had been noticeable even in the snow.

Citizens Against Litter expects to have about 10,000 people spread among 160 neighborhoods and communities on April 18-20 for Pittsburgh's "Redd Up." Because the Jail Trail skirts past rather than through neighborhoods, however, it wouldn't necessarily be covered.

"It's no-man's land," Mr. Weinstein agreed.

When we reached the trail from the Bates Avenue entrance in South Oakland, we found a remarkably pristine stretch by any urban standard. I was oddly disappointed, but Mr. Weinstein was properly pleased. It showed him that the idea of a massive, ongoing cleanup of our city is taking hold.

Don't get me wrong. We found litter. We filled bags. The Jail Trail won't be confused with an English garden anytime soon. But it was clear someone else had been doing what we were doing.

When I later called Guy Costa, the city's director of public works, he told me he suggested a crew hit the trail a couple of weeks ago. He also says anonymous volunteers have been cleaning, leaving bags of cleared litter next to trash cans along the trail.

"We appreciate that,'' he said.

Mr. Weinstein and I walked about a mile down past the shadows of the Birmingham Bridge before doubling back, and just west of the bridge we made a satisfying dent in the debris, bagging cans of spray paint left by graffiti narcissists suffering from delusions of talent, among other things.

Mostly, we found stuff high on the banked sides of the trail, which was pretty clearly thrown from passing cars.

"It's not the walkers who are litterers,'' he said. "It's the drive-by litterers.''

One cyclist thanked us as we walked back with our bags.

As we walked and talked yesterday, Mr. Weinstein asked the date of the Pennsylvania Primary. When I told him April 22, he beamed and said he'd call the campaign offices of Sens. Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton in hopes of getting "celebrity pickers'' out cleaning up the weekend before the vote.

Don't discount the possibility. Word of Citizens Against Litter has been getting around. A news crew from newly independent Kosovo is coming next month to document the city's cleanup.

Mr. Weinstein just wants a couple of things clear.

"I don't climb fences and I don't do windows.''

Citizens Against Litter -- www.citizensagainstlitter.org -- has Clean Pittsburgh Stewards in every city neighborhood and is working with more than 60 suburban communities in Allegheny County, plus more than a dozen places in Beaver County.

The group hopes to lift 40 tons from the grounds of this metropolis on the big Redd Up weekend, and all the arrangements to haul it away have been made. Those who want to find out what is or isn't happening in their neighborhoods should contact Mr. Weinstein at 412-688-9120 or boris.weinstein@verizon.net.