Monthly Archives: June 2013

Chapter 73, Plumb

Those who know me well know that, when it comes to building things, I’m a bit of a stickler for doing things right and a true believer in “straight and level”.  I learned early on that a job is much easier if you build things square.  I’ve remodeled lots of houses and buildings and when it was obvious the original builder owned a tape measure and a level, and knew how to use them, the project went much smoother.  So when I started to build a deck for my sister in Canada I was a little confused by the local building practices.

Normally, when you build a deck, you make sure that the structure is as unmovable as possible.  I like to lag bolt the deck into the house with a 1/2 inch bolt at least every 12 inches and pour caissons with sonotubes at least 4 feet deep for the main support posts.  I prefer 6×6 posts to 4x4s and 2x8s to 2x6s.  You might accuse me of over-engineering but I want everything I build to stand the test of time and feel like you’re standing on solid ground.  What hadn’t occurred to me was what the extreme conditions of Canada could have on a structure.  Prince Edward Island is made up, almost entirely, of sandy soil and sandstone.  It tends to retain water and when the winter weather hits and everything freezes, it can heave the ground up to six inches.  So, to keep your deck from ripping off the side of your house, decks are usually built “freestanding”.  In other words, it’s like a big table sitting next to your house.  It’s right up against the house, but not connected.  Even the stairs aren’t hard mounted to the deck.  They’re attached to it with 2-3 large hinges to allow them to rise and fall with the ground.  There’s no concrete to pour, the posts simply sit on precast concrete pads which just sit on the ground.  The whole process was foreign to my preconceived engineering sensibilities but “When in Rome….”.

I was, freezing and heaving be damned, determined to start the thing off plumb and level.  Once I got my head around the new paradigm, the project progressed smoothly and building basics are still building basics.  I did bolt some additional diagonal cross supports between the vertical posts to prevent side to side sway, but, for the most part, I kept to the original plans.  By the fourth day, with Pegs help, everything was done except the railings.

Railings are functionally and esthetically the most important part of a deck.  No matter how sturdy the deck if the railings don’t feel sturdy and, more importantly, meet code then the project is a bust.  It has to be high enough that your average person can’t tumble over it (for obvious reasons I usually make them taller!) and the balusters have to be spaced close enough together that a small child can’t stick their head between them and choke.  That distance varies from place to place but it’s generally a maximum of 4″.  As usual, I prefer to exceed the code so I go with 3 1/2″.  It’s not that I know children with exceptionally small heads it’s that 3 1/2″ inches makes my life a little easier.  Here’s what I mean.

I could go around the entire deck and mark the top rail and the bottom rail every four inches and then line up each baluster with the marks and hold them by hand, or with a clamp, while I screw them in.  100 balusters, 1 at a time.  Sounds painful!  Or, I could, use a scrap piece of 2×4 (which is really 1 1/2′ x 3 1/2″) the same length as the balusters and simply slap it, and the next baluster, up against the previous one and screw the next one in.  Basically using the 2×4 as a spacer.  I choose the latter!  There is only one small problem with the 2×4 spacer method which really isn’t a problem as long as you’re aware of it.  There are always minute variations in lumber.  It might be that there’s a knot that protrudes slightly from one side or that one section shrunk a little while the lumber was drying.  It’s imperceptible to the naked eye, but it’s there.  You wouldn’t notice a variation of 1/32″ or even 1/16″ between two balusters but by the time you get to the end of a 16 baluster run it could be 1/2′ to an 1″ off  and it will be obvious and it will look like crap.  The solution is simple.  Every 3-4 balusters you just have measure the gap, at both the top and the bottom from the one you’ve just installed to the end of the run.  If the gap is larger at the top than the bottom then, over the next 3-4 balusters, hold the tops a little looser to the spacer at the top than at the bottom.  Don’t make the correction all at once.  The discrepancy worked its way in gradually, take it out gradually.  You know the first corner is plumb and the next corner is plumb you just have to manage the process along the way.

In many ways building a deck is like building a life.  We try to build it square and plumb on solid ground because we know that strength comes from a good foundation.  But if we make it too rigid and the ground shifts or heaves the results can be catastrophic.  We start off knowing that the end is perfectly vertical but imperfections sneak in along the way.  Wrong choices and bad decisions don’t seem like much at the time but when we measure them against the objective we realize that we’re gradually straying off plumb and need some correction.  And we need to remind ourselves that there’s only one carpenter who’s ever been able to create something that will always be plumb and never fail.

 

Chapter 72, “One Man’s Ceiling…….”

Time for apologies.  I think for the first time in nearly a year and a half I missed a week publishing “Hovering Over Send”.  I hate to make excuses, but I’m going to make one anyway.  Eight days ago Peg and I embarked on something very rare in our 33 years of marriage, a vacation.  Most of the time, when I take time off, it’s been to work around the house.  Rarely did we go anywhere unless it was somehow connected to an official TDY.  I told Peg, and myself, that once I retired we would begin to go places we had never been before.  It’s been over seven months, and still no retirement check for those who are wondering, so I figured it was about time.  To that end, a week ago Saturday, we hopped in the truck with my sister Jody, niece Maddie, and a cargo bed full of tools and headed northeast.

For those that don’t know, Jody and family live in the smallest Canadian Province, Prince Edward Island.  Before she moved there, all I knew about Prince Edward Island, or PEI, was that it was way out east but not as far out as Newfoundland and the novel “Ann of Green Gables” was written about the place.  That was about it.  So when Jody flew to Pittsburgh for my nephew Ben’s wedding I told her that Peg and I would save her the airfare back and drive her instead.  So began our “vacation”.

Now my sister-in-law Ruth lives in Pierre, SD and after looking at a map I realized that Pittsburgh to Pierre was almost the exact same distance as Pittsburgh to Montague, PEI, give or take a few miles, somewhere around 20 hours of driving.  The first day we went as far as Manchester, NH which is exactly half way and I thought, “Piece of cake”.  Nice scenery, some traffic to dodge around NYC and Boston, but it keeps you on your toes.  The second day was a little different.  I’d been to Maine before, but it was for a conference in Portland and I flew there.  I didn’t realize how quickly civilization disappeared in Maine as you drive north.

Mile after endless mile of trees and rocks and not much else.  We hit Bangor, left I-95, and turned east on route 7 and headed for the thriving town of Calais, ME (pronounced callus).  Two hours of two lanes of nothing.  My only thought was, “If it’s this barren this far north and we five more hours of driving after we hit the border, PEI must be like Nome, Alaska.”  We stopped at a Walmart on the US side of the border, topped the tank off with relatively cheap fuel, bought some frozen chicken (it costs three times as much in PEI) and headed for the little two lane bridge which crosses the border into Canada. 

We cleared customs and a few miles west of the border I was surprised when the two lane opened up into a brand new four lane interstate.  We went through St John, New Brunswick and headed for Moncton and as we drove further northeast the landscape opened up to farms and fields which looked more like central Ohio than the cold tundra.  The highway returned to a two lane as we approached Moncton and as we turned north we were met with a “High moose crossing area next 24 kilometers” warning sign.  Luckily, no moose, and at the end of the 24 kilometers there was the only way to drive to PEI, the 8 mile Confederation Bridge.  I thought for sure that PEI would be like Newfoundland, a little rough around the edges and ramshackle.  In need of a coat of paint and a little TLC.  But, at the end of the bridge, I felt like I had crossed a 2,000 mile bridge and crossed into the UK.  Gently rolling hills, neatly plowed fields and picturesque villages seemed to be the central theme of the island.  Tourism is huge, at least for the 10 weeks or so during the summer when it’s not snowing, and the lobster, mussels and scallops are cheap and fantastic.

Right now I’m sitting in a cottage, kindly loaned to us by the Knox family, watching the sun set over the Cardigan Bay which is only 20 yards away on three sides.  There’s no television, wifi, or cell phone coverage and I could care less! Those of you who are my age will remember the Paul Simon song “One Man’s Ceiling is Another Man’s Floor” I guess it works the same if you were to say “One Man’s North is Another Man’s South”

So there’s my excuse.  You would think that I have all the time in the world to write, but so far I’ve built a deck on Jody’s house and gutted/hung drywall in her guest room.  I guess my idea of a vacation is a little different than most!