Lizards 2. Horny toad 1. Plastic bottles ... well, they were the winner. Or loser, depending on your perspective.

But surprisingly, they didn't win, or lose, by as much as you might think along the busy Lighthouse Trail inside Palo Duro Canyon State Park.

Saturday morning, park interpreter Jeff Davis, who has worked at the Texas Parks & Wildlife Department for five years, organized a first-ever pliking event. No, I didn't misspell it.

Pliking is a Swedish fitness craze that combines hiking with picking up litter. The Swedish term "plocka upp'' means "to pick up." There is also plogging for joggers and plalking for walkers.

"I read an article about plogging" and got an idea, Davis said. "Litter can be such a problem especially when it's busy in the summer.

"Water bottles get heavy when they're empty," he added with a straight face.

Unfortunately for Davis, no one showed for the 10 a.m. plike. He took it in stride. Sometimes you offer a new idea and it's a hit and sometimes it's a swing-and-a-miss, he said.

But he was undeterred. Standing in the parking lot of the Lighthouse trailhead, he got out his phone, which didn't have any service, looked on his calendar and planned another pliking outing for 7 p.m. Aug. 18.

"I thought we could do something a little differently on litter pickup," Davis said.

Regardless of the turnout, the idea behind pliking, plogging or plalking is a good one. It can improve your health at the same time it improves the environment.

Plogging has become popular across Europe with groups formed in places such as Scandinavia and Germany. In an article in The Washington Post, a Swedish-based fitness app called Lifesum was sited for its ability to show the benefits of plogging. According to Lifesum, a half-hour of jogging plus picking up trash will burn 288 calories for the average person, compared with the 235 burned by jogging alone. A brisk walk will expend about 120.

Hiking, or pliking, to the Lighthouse, the iconic symbol of the local state park, is six miles round trip. I decided to head out to see how much work needed to be done to clean up the trail.

After a mile, I saw about four or five water bottles; a couple of pieces of the wrapping around the top of the bottles that had come off; a water bottle cap (water bottles are the worst); a glass Foco coconut juice bottle; a plastic Gatorade bottle; an aluminum can of cotton candy-flavored Bang, which states it is "potent brain and body fuel"; and a packet of Honey Stinger Gold, which says it is B Vitamin Electrolytes. The person who tossed the Honey Stinger Gold obviously didn't read the label: "Packet In. Packet Out."

That was it. Now I might have taken my eyes off the trail a bit to gaze at the amazing rock formations of the canyon, but I was fairly diligent in trying to spot trash.

I don't think Davis would be surprised.

"I think it's a small minority of hikers who litter," he said. "It's not that bad."

However, he has seen his fair share of trash blowing out of a car when the door's open and the wind's blowing. And he's seen more than he'd care of water bottles lodged in trees.

After my plike, I met a family about to head up to the Lighthouse. They asked what I was doing, and I told them. And they said what probably a lot of people say when told about pliking, plogging and plalking: "Oh, we didn't know it had a name. We do that all the time. I thought that was just being a good Scout."

Unfortunately not everyone along the Lighthouse Trail believes that way. That's why Davis has scheduled another pliking event next month to try to even the score: Environment 1, plastic bottles 0.