Construction, Day 1: Lumber Delivery, Post Hole Digging

Off to a good start.

On May 20, 2014, I began blogging about the construction of my new home in Malaga, WA. You can read all of these posts — and see the time-lapse movies that go with them — by clicking the new home construction tag.

The lumber delivery truck pulled into my driveway at 6:15 AM sharp. I was already up. In fact, I was setting up my time-lapse camera on the roof of my RV.

The truck was neatly stacked with lumber. A forklift clung to the back. It didn’t look like enough lumber for a 48 x 60 foot building, but the driver assured me it was. In fact, he told me it was a lot of lumber.

My Lumber
The lumber truck arrived at 6:15 AM. I was awake (of course).

Special Order for Langer
It must be mine. It has my name on it.

He didn’t waste any time offloading it and leaving it spread out on the building site. Then, without taking up my offer of coffee, he backed down the driveway the way he came and was gone.

I looked over the lumber he’d left behind — my lumber. The skeleton of my future home in a sort of kit.

Assembly Required
As one of my Twitter friends said about this photo, “Some assembly required.”

The builders showed up less than 20 minutes later. There were 3 hispanic guys who introduced themselves and shook my hand, the owner of the company, and a bobcat with two augers. They spent about an hour moving around the lumber. Then the boss left and the workers got down to work with the auger.

A pole building utilizes post-frame construction. From Wikipedia:

Pole framing or post-frame construction (pole building framing, pole building, pole barn), is a simplified building technique adapted from the labor-intensive traditional timber framing technique. It uses large poles or posts buried in the ground or on a foundation to provide the vertical structural support and girts to provide horizontal support. The method was developed and matured during the 1930s as changes in agricultural practices, including the shift toward engine-powered farm equipment and the demand for cheaper, larger barns and storage areas. Unlike competing building methods, once the poles, girts, and rafters are put in place, much of the construction work on a pole-built structure can be handled by a single individual over the course of a month or season.

My building required 40 holes roughly 3-4 feet in diameter and 4 feet deep. The builder estimated that construction could be completed in 6 to 8 weeks. Of course, that’s just the exterior of the building; I still needed to finish my living space.

Auger
Close-up view of one of the augers they used to dig holes for my building.

So that first day was all about digging holes. I was worried about rocks on the south side of the site. I’d been warned that although the pricing included some work with rocks, if there was a lot of rocks and they couldn’t do the digging, I’d have to pay extra for earth moving equipment to come back in and dig the holes. Extra could get into the thousands of dollars. Every extra dollar I spent on the building’s frame was a dollar that wouldn’t be available to finish the living space. Needless to say, I wanted those holes to be easy to dig.

They encountered a rock about three feet down on the first hole. The workers stopped and got tools out of their truck. I came over to watch. Angel, who seemed to be in charge of the workers, told me it didn’t seem to be a big rock. They banged away on it with a digging stick and then dug it out with shovels. And then they got the auger back in place and dug.

They had the same problem with the other south corner. Angel said it wasn’t bad, though.

Digging Holes
The workers deal with a rock on the second hole.

And when they moved north, they didn’t hit any rocks. At all.

In fact, of the 40 holes they dug, they only hit rocks on four of them — the four south side holes.

The digging went amazingly fast. I’d estimate about 10 minutes per hole. The auger went in and filled its grooves with earth. Angel moved aside and then rotate the auger in the opposite direction to dump the earth in a pile. He made two of these piles and later used the bobcat to move the earth into my future driveway apron. They took a break for lunch at 11:30 AM. By about 2 PM, they were done with the holes.

Sometime around the middle of the day I emailed Tanya, the woman I’d been working with at the builder, to let her know how it was going. I think she was just as happy as I was that the work was going smoothly.

I had to leave at 3 PM, so I didn’t get a chance to see them finish up. I did watch on the time-lapse, though. After finishing the holes and moving that dirt, they spent the rest of the day moving the posts around. By 4:15 PM, they were gone.

The project is definitely off to a good start. Even today, as I type this, I can’t believe how much they’ve gotten done in less than 90 minutes. A crane is pulling down my driveway right now. You can read about that tomorrow.

In the meantime, here’s yesterday’s time-lapse.

Construction: The Earth Work

Moving earth to make room for my new home.

On May 20, 2014, I began blogging about the construction of my new home in Malaga, WA. You can read all of these posts — and see the time-lapse movies that go with them — by clicking the new home construction tag.

Yesterday, they finally began construction on what will be my new home.

I blogged about the home here. It’s not a typical home by any means — I’m not the kind of person who really wants to live in a typical house. As an old ex-friend of mine would say, it’s a garage with a house attached. It’s a pole building, which is a type of construction popular here in farm country. Instead of framing from a foundation up, a pole building basically hangs the structure on a series of vertical beams or “poles” and puts a metal (usually) skin over it. They’re cost effective to build, especially for storage, and that’s primarily what this will be, with roughly 1200 square feet on the second floor for me to settle into.

I’d been working with the builder on plans for over a year. The plans themselves didn’t change much at all over that time. But I had a few delays, mostly related to the failure of my wasband to do the right thing. (Seriously: What the hell is wrong with that man?) This spring with money coming in from cherry drying contracts and the promise of a loan from a family member (if needed), I’m ready to move forward. It’s amazing what a person can save up for when she knows how to live within her means.

The earthwork for the project was mostly completed in late April, started almost right after I got home from my California contract. I see from looking at my blog archives that I didn’t blog about it — likely because I was busy with a writing project. I may as well do that now. I know I posted a lot of photos on Facebook. Here are a few of them for the folks wise enough to stay off that time-sucking social network.

First Shovel
Jeff of Parkway Excavation scooped up the first shovelful of earth on April 24, 2014. I highly recommend Jeff. He knows his stuff, is honest, and is a really great guy to work with.

Time-Lapse Setup
I set up one of my old GoPros as a time-lapse camera far above the action. (Video below.)

Penny Supervises
Penny was not afraid of the heavy equipment. She’s fearless! Of course, with all that dust, she got unbelievably dirty every day.

It took Jeff a few days to get the job done. It required him to clear out and level an area roughly 80 x 70 in size. The whole time he worked, I was sort of holding my breath, worried about him hitting rocks. I live on a sort of “shelf” at the base of some basalt cliffs. Over the past 11,000 years (since the Missoula Floods), pieces of those cliffs have tumbled down and embedded themselves in the earth. My neighbors across the road are much closer to all that broken rock and have lots of rock in their earth. But I was pleasantly surprised that I didn’t hit any at all when I dug the trench for my temporary power post in August 2013. Still, on the south side of the building site, Jeff had to dig down more than 5 feet. Would he hit rock? If he did, that would crank up the cost of his work and the cost of getting the poles for my building planted.

But I lucked out. He hit a few rocks on the south side, but nothing worth worrying about. I think even he was surprised at how nice my dirt was.

Dust Control
Dust was a real issue. I had a sprinkler going almost the entire time Jeff was working.

Digging In
To make a large, level pad, Jeff had to dig into the side of the hill. I also had him dig out a drainage ditch for water off the hillside and roof.

While I had Jeff there, I also had him move my shed, which I’d put in a dumb place. (I usually plan better, but I had lots of distractions when I took delivery of it in November. And I had him clear an area for my garden and chicken yard. And dig a trench across the driveway so I could run my RV power and water in a conduit underground, thus heading off any fears of damage to wires/hoses from construction vehicles. I worked my ass off that day and slept like the dead that night.

Dragging the Shed
Jeff used his backhoe and a chain to drag the shed into its new position on the other side of the driveway beside the garden. I’d planned to sell the shed when my building was done, but now I think I’ll keep it for garden tools.

Trenching
Jeff dug the trench and I laid in conduit with a water line and 30 amp power line. Then Jeff covered it all back up.

Gravel Delivery
Jeff delivers the second load of gravel.

The job required a lot of earth moving — actually taking dirt from the south side of the site to the north end. I’d need a driveway to access the four-car garage on the south side and the earth sloped away a bit there. Jeff fixed that right up. He then came through with a compacter and made a rock-hard surface in the ground.

Jeff finished off the job with three loads of gravel requested by the builder. He dumped them in two places on the cleared out pad. The builder had come by to check out his work earlier in the week and I think he was pleased with what he saw. I know I was.

When he was all finished, I had a huge, flat, level pad. A friend came by the next day and parked his motorhome on it for an overnight stay. The day after that, I landed my helicopter on it. Nice!

Makeshift Helipad
It fits!

Here’s the promised time-lapse:

Although the builders were supposed to start on April 30, there was a delay in the permits. They needed some sort of drainage plan. What that meant was I needed to pay someone $600 to satisfy the county. This is no real surprise. The delay didn’t really bother me. I had to go to California for a week anyway and wanted to be home when they started work. They got the permit while I was gone and showed up on time yesterday morning.

More on that in another blog post.

Home is Where the Heart Is

So good to be home.

I was away for about two months, on a frost contract in Woodland, CA near Sacramento.

When I moved my “mobile mansion” south in the middle of February, I was actually glad to be getting away from the Wenatchee area. I’d just spent my first winter back in a cold climate after about 15 Arizona winters. The short days combined with an amazing amount of fog — of all things — had made me kind of glum. Even though I’d was very comfortable with a house-sitting gig near my own home, I was ready for a break that included warm weather.

So when the frost control job in the Sacramento area materialized again this year with better standby pay coupled with the requirement to actually remain in the area for the duration, I jumped at it. I was heading south with my RV before the end of February and settled in at Watts-Woodland Airport by February 25.

Me in a Balloon
My hot air balloon flight was a highlight of the trip.

I had a great time in the Sacramento area. Daytime temperatures ranged from 60°F to 84°F with nighttime temperatures seldom dipping below 40°F. We were only put on call for possible frost flying once in 42 days. If my contract had been the same as the one I had in 2013, I would have taken a financial hit. But this contract paid better for standby so I was actually better off if I didn’t have to fly. So it was a win-win.

In fact, in a way it was like an all-expense-paid vacation with a bonus at the end.

I did a lot while I was there — kayaking in the American River and Putah Creek, hiking in the hills and in Muir Woods, ballooning, joy-flying in the helicopter, wine tasting in Napa Valley, whale watching, hosting friends, making new friends, visiting San Francisco. I even learned to fly a gyroplane. I blogged a bit about some of these things (follow the links) but not as much as I would have liked to — I was just too darn busy to sit down and write much!

Gyro Solo
I learned to fly this gyro in 6 days, soloing after just 7 hours of flight time. I’m now thinking a bit more seriously about a fixed wing rating.

Still, before March month-end, my Wenatchee area clients started calling, asking when I’d be back. They had places to go, things to photograph. The damage to the Wanapum Dam and the draining of the lake above it had all the locals wanting to see the river from the air. There was flying to do when I got home.

There was also a home to be built. I’d been sitting on plans for what’ll basically be a custom garage with living space for more than a year and had given the green light to the builder before heading south. They were planning on an April 30 start date. Some earth work needed to be done and I wanted to be there for the entire process.

So by the first week in April, I was anxious to get home.

I said my farewells to new friends and headed out with the RV in tow on Sunday morning, April 13. By sunset, I was parked in a very nice campsite on the Columbia River in Maryhill State Park, enjoying a full hookup and a full moon.

The next day, I continued on to Wenatchee, less than 4 hours away. I dropped my RV off at the local RV fixit place — the gas furnace had been misbehaving and wound up needing a circuit board — and drove the rest of the way up to my 10 acres of view property in Malaga.

Everything was just as I’d left it. I offloaded my bees, setting them up on a palette near where they’d lived before our trip south and took stock of the things I’d need to do to finish moving back in.

Then I went down to the valley and ran errands until 6 PM, when the RV was ready. After a quick hook up, we made the 20-minute drive back up the hillside and down the 2 miles of improved gravel road to my lot. It took a few moves to get the RV back in place beside the septic system connection, where I’d left the water and power lines waiting for me. Within an hour — including time spent chatting with a neighbor — I had everything all hooked up.

Moonset
I might have missed the eclipse Monday night, but I did catch the moon setting behind the cliffs from my home early this morning.

I really enjoyed seeing the lights of the city spread out before me that evening. It was mostly cloudy so I missed the eclipse, but I was too darn tired after my long trip and the setup to stay up anyway. I slept like a log.

The next few days were spent doing taxes — I always wait until the last minute — finishing setup, moving things in and out of storage, running errands, and meeting up with friends and contractors. Yesterday was overcast and rather cold — I could swear it was snowing up at Mission Ridge, which I can see from my place. I got home from errands by 6:30 and there was still plenty of light to watch a storm move in and the clouds descend over Wenatchee Heights and down toward Stemilt Hill. The sun broke through periodically, bathing the cliff walls north of me with a golden light.

Magic.

I lounged on the sofa with a book, relaxing with Penny on my lap. I think that’s when I first started to realize how good it felt to be home. And when I started to get really excited about the project ahead of me — building my dream home in a place I love.

This morning dawned mostly clear with crisp, clean air on a strong breeze. As I sat at the table with my coffee, writing in my journal, I looked up to see the valley washed in the golden hour light. I stepped outside with my camera for a few shots.

Morning from Cathedral Rock
I shot this photo from the steps of my RV this morning with my Nikon. This is uncropped, shot with a zoom lens set to 46mm (per Photoshop). I can’t tell you how good it feels to know that I’ll be able to see something like this every day right from my home.

I started having second (or third or fourth or fifth) thoughts about where I was putting my building. The builder and I had set corner stakes in February, before I left. (The last time I positioned a building, I’d wished I’d done it differently. But that was supposed to be a temporary building; not the only building on the property. And it’s now pretty much abandoned, so I guess it doesn’t really matter.) I wanted to get it right because it couldn’t be changed once the construction began. So I walked out to the building site with my coffee cup in hand and stood on the ground beneath where one of my bedroom windows would be. I looked out over the valley, reminding myself that I’d be about 12 feet higher when I was looking through a window or standing on the deck that would soon be above me.

And I liked what I saw: a beautiful, unobstructed view down toward Wenatchee and the Columbia River, with nothing but orchards and grasslands and scattered homes and mountains as far as the eye could see.

Home Sweet Home
I shot this image with my phone as I drove off to meet a friend for breakfast this morning. My home will be built to the left of the shed, beyond the frame of this photo.

I went inside to finish my coffee and journal entry.

A while later, my phone rang. It was Bob, one of the friends who’d called and texted me repeatedly while I was gone, just to catch up. That morning, he was looking for a companion for breakfast out. I said yes (of course) and hurried to get dressed, thinking about the warm hug I’d get when I saw him.

It was good to be home.

Shoveling Snow Time-Lapse

I shovel snow for the first time in 16 years.

It snowed last night. Finally.

Yeah, we did have some minor snowfall way back at the end of November or beginning of December, but it wasn’t much. I bought a snow shovel at the local Habitat for Humanity shop for $5 but was better off just sweeping that snow away.

But last night we had the real thing. About four inches of the stuff, slightly wet but otherwise powdery. I saw it in the dark when I woke up and let Penny out. She ran to the edge of the porch, saw the white stuff on the walk and in the yard, and turned tail, running back into the house, obviously afraid. It was 30 minutes later, after she’d finished most of her breakfast and really had to go that she stepped out into it. That’s when I got an idea of how deep it was — she sank in up to her little body and wound up doing her business under the porch.

I walked out, still in my slippers, and stuck a forefinger in the fresh snow on the walkway. My finger was buried before I touched the ground.

At least four inches. Whoa!

I waited eagerly for the sun to rise. I was actually looking forward to using that new shovel.

Those of you in winter wonderlands who have had snow dumped on you all season probably think I’m nuts. I’m not. I grew up in the New York Metro area where the weather was a bit colder in winter than where I am now — and a lot colder than where I lived in Arizona for 15+ years. I didn’t realize how much I missed the snow until I got here, prepped for winter sports, and then waited for the snow to fall.

It didn’t.

Until last night.

Anyway, at about 8 AM, I donned my winter pants and jacket and boots and fashioned my Buff into a balaclava. Then I pulled on my ski gloves and went out to do a chore most people hate: shoveling snow. Of course, I created a time-lapse:

I don’t have to shovel the driveway, which is quite long. The man who owns the house I’m living in right now has arranged for snow plow service if the snow gets too deep. Right now, I don’t think it’s too deep at all — my Jeep has big, gnarly tires that won’t even notice the snow. Besides, temperatures later this week are expected to rise above freezing — heck, it’s already 31°F outside right now — so I don’t expect the snow to linger.

Maybe that’s why I was in such a hurry to get out there and shovel? I didn’t want to miss my opportunity.

Besides, once it starts melting, I suspect it’ll be a lot heavier and harder to move.

Snowshoeing. Finally.

More like iceshoeing, if you ask me.

When I decided to spend the winter at my new home in Malaga, WA, I decided to embrace the winter. After all, it was the first real winter I would experience since leaving New Jersey for Arizona in 1997. And, from what I could see, the winter was likely to be about the same as the winters I’d experienced back east — perhaps a little milder but with a little more snow. Perfect for winter sports.

Embracing Winter Sports

Back in my New York and New Jersey days, I did some cross-country skiing — although not enough to ever get good at it. I discovered just how rusty and inexperienced I was when I went cross-country skiing up in the Methow Valley for Christmas. I had a great time, but also learned that I certainly need more practice.

Back in my east coast days, I also did some sledding, tobogganing, and ice skating — but very little of all three in my adult years. (I do vividly remember dislocating my shoulder on a Girl Scout skate outing — the troop leaders were convinced I’d broken my collarbone and the X-rays showed nothing because my shoulder had popped itself back into place before they could get me to the hospital.)

But snowshoeing? That was something that people back east just never did. In fact, whenever I conjured up an image of snowshoes, I saw wooden frames similar to the business end of a tennis racket strapped onto someone’s feet. Was that from cartoons or old movies?

When I moved out here, however, everyone was talking about snowshoeing and I soon realized that it was the winter version of hiking. I love to hike — it’s great exercise and a wonderful way to spend time outdoors with friends and my dog. Surely I’d love to go snowshoeing. I put snowshoes on my Christmas wish list and my brother sent them to me — thanks, Norb! I’d already outfitted myself with all the warm winter clothes I’d need to stay cozy while out in the snow.

But what snow? That was the problem.

Where’s the Snow?

This is my first winter in north central Washington state. I was here for a week last January, just to see what it was like. There was about 4-8 inches of snow on the ground, depending on where I was. No fresh snow fell during that time, but it stayed cold enough to keep the snow from melting.

Everyone told me that it usually starts snowing in December here and that it snows periodically through January and into February. They even said that April snowstorms aren’t unusual. Surely snow must be common — after all, there’s a ski resort right outside of town!

Weatherspark Snow
Here’s what Weatherspark has to say about snowfall averages in Wenatchee.

And things did start off promising. It snowed right around the time I moved into the house I’m caring for this winter — December 1 or thereabouts. There was about 2-3 inches on the ground — not quite enough to get the driveway plowed, but enough to see my truck’s tracks in the snow. I even bought a snow shovel, which I used to push the snow off the pathway so I wouldn’t track it in the house.

But that was it. It got warm enough over time to melt all that snow away. Then very cold and warm and cold and not so cold. It was always cold enough for it to snow out — daytime temperatures hovered around 30°F — there simply wasn’t any moisture in the air.

Or, actually, there was. But it came in the form of Wenatchee’s famous winter fog.

Understand that although I do live in Washington, I don’t live anywhere near Seattle or the ocean. This fog is a completely different from what you might expect in a coastal region. It apparently forms when there’s stagnant air — indeed, we’ve been under an air stagnation advisory for nearly two weeks now. That means no wind. None at all. Air quality isn’t affected — the air is crisp and clean. But a layer of clouds forms over the valley and sometimes dips quite low. More than once, the house I’m living in now (elevation 1200 feet) was in those clouds. Another time, it was above them.

Above the Clouds
The view out my window about a month ago. Have I already shared this? I really love this shot!

For some reason, this year we’re getting lots of that fog but none of the usual snow. And it’s not just Wenatchee, which sits at about 600 feet elevation. It’s also Leavenworth, which is the closest cross-country ski and snowshoeing area. There just isn’t any snow.

Showshoeing at the Fish Hatchery

I set up a snowshoeing outing for my favorite local Meetup group, the Wenatchee Social & Outdoor Adventure Group. It was a free outing at the Leavenworth Fish Hatchery, sponsored by Friends of Northwest Hatcheries. It included a 2-hour walk along hatchery trails, guided by naturalists. Snowshoes would be provided.

Of course, I brought my own. I went with my friend Tim — who seems to know everyone everywhere we go. We got there early and Tim wasted no time chatting with one of the guides while I went to check out the salmon fry in huge tanks in their indoor facility. (I could go into a lot of detail about what they do at this hatchery, but I’ll save it for another blog post — probably one after a springtime visit to the trails.) After a while, another four people joined us. Then a second guide arrived and we were ready to go.

Although there was no snow, our guides insisted that we bring and later put on snowshoes. The trouble was the ice — everywhere the snow had melted into pools had turned into patches of ice. Some of them were quite large. All of them were pretty slippery. One of the guides, Janet, said she didn’t want to be calling any ambulances today. Apparently she’d been calling them periodically over the past few weeks.

The three of the four later arrivals — all of whom traveled from Oregon for the weekend, I might add — came without snowshoes. We stopped at a shed along the way and Janet handed them out. Then we got on the trail along Icicle Creek. When the ice began covering too much of the trail to stay off it, we put on our snowshoes and continued on our way.

Maria on Snowshoes
Tim took this picture of me in the snowiest spot we could find.

This was my first time wearing snowshoes. I didn’t have much trouble putting them on over my big Sorrel snow boots once I figured out how the straps worked. Soon I was crunch-crunch-crunching over the ice with my companions. The sound was deafening as the metal spikes at the bottom of the shoes stabbed through the ice, pushed down mercilessly by the weight of person above them. Whenever the guides wanted to tell us about something along the trail, we all had to stop and stand still just to hear them.

But what I liked most about them was that with them on my feet, I wasn’t going to slip one single inch.

We walked for about two hours stopping here and there along the trail. We learned about the various types of fir and other evergreen trees, including the incorrectly named Douglas Fir, which isn’t a fir at all. We saw tiny birds flittering about the trees over head, bear scratches on tree bark, beaver dams, and water-carved ice floes. We learned about various unusual local plants (like horsetail) and how they were originally used by the native people who once inhabited this area. I soon realized that we were on a very large and complex trail system that would be great to explore on foot in the spring, summer, or fall.

I would have taken pictures along the way, but I managed to leave my phone behind in the Jeep. That just gives me an excuse to come back with my Nikon, long lens, and monopod. Apparently the area is a prime site for bird watching, with plenty of viewing blinds along Icicle Creek. A springtime hike with Penny and my camera should be lots of fun, with plenty of photos to share.

We were back at the Visitor Center by 3 PM and heading back to Wenatchee a while later. I was glad to have had the chance to finally give my snowshoes a try. Tim tells me they’re a lot more fun when there’s a nice deep base of snow. Somehow, however, I suspect I’ll have to wait until next year to experience that.