Finishing the Porch and the Septic

Two day trips followed the big porch weekend. The first trip was on a Monday, which 'felt' strange. It was a holiday, but somehow everything seemed different from any given Saturday or Sunday. It was a beautiful day, but I couldn't quite bring myself to enjoy it - I guess Mondays suck everywhere.

A nice porch to survey the equally nice landscaping

Always one to underestimate, I figured that the porch roof would take less than 6 hours. After a solid 8 hours I ran out of shingles and was forced to call it quits. A few things about roofing if you've never done it before:

• It's hot work, even if the day is nice. The sun is bearing down on you from above when you start, and as soon as you get enough shingles down, it's radiating up, too.
• It's murder on the knees and hands. Shingles are covered in asphalt and stone, so they tear up jeans and rub skin raw.
• Due to the aforementioned asphalt, you'll be filthy when you're done.
• Shingles are really heavy. Fortunately, Dan and Tom were on site to continue the septic work, so Tom passed them up to me using the front-loader. God bless him.

Guys who do roofing for a living earn every dime they make - take my word for it.

On the second trip I arrived to find that Dan had finished the topsoil, seed, and mulch. The place looked great! The weeds, rocks and stumps were gone, the land was smooth and open, and the hardwood Dan had removed for the leech field was neatly stacked by the well. The place was almost starting to look finished from the outside. Nice. The only rough landscape work that remains is to hardpack the driveway - something that will run me about $1,200 and so will have to wait for next year.

On the other hand, I'm going to have a lot to mow...

The remaining shingle work - about 1/4 of the roof, the two ridges and flashing against the house - took about 4 hours total. At that point it was almost 2 PM, and I decided to pack it in rather than beginning a new job.

All said and done, the Septic came to about $7,250. This was $500 more than originally estimated as I asked Dan to bring in enough topsoil to take care of the land all around the cabin, not just over the septic work. The porch - which I originally estimated at $500 - worked out to closer to $1,000. 

The leaves were beginning to turn, and the air already had a touch of fall in it - it won't be long until we're closing down again for the year. I want to get the front siding on and finish the 4 or 5 remaining pieces of EWP on the back and sides. Trimming the eaves and porch would be nice, but somehow I doubt it's going to all get done this year. We've done pretty good this year, though, so I'm not complaining: Well, septic, landscaping, siding, porch, interior framing and electrical - not bad considering that it feels like we've barely been up there this year...

The Cost of Being Hip(ped)

It was just after noon on Saturday when I reached my low point. While my father and Mr Big created knee walls for the back loft, I stood in the [future] living room and considered a declaration of defeat. I just couldn't see us calculating, cutting and installing all of the angles a hipped roof requires in anything like the time left, and building the porch roof alone on a subsequent weekend was an overwhelming prospect.


The work had begun just after noon on Friday, when my father and I arrived to find the materials that LaValley's had delivered that morning, and the first order of business was to create a 2x6 'box' between the deck joists over the beam to ensure that the porch posts' load transferred directly to the ground rather than relying on the strength of the decking and joists alone. That having been done, we turned to the decking.

I considered composite material, but - at over 3 times the cost of pressure-treated ($400 vs. $125 for a 6.5'x14' deck) - it was out of my budget. I think of decking as being 'quick work', but the process of ensuring uniform spacing both 1) of all boards and 2) over the length of each individual board required that one of us gauge the spacing and insert the screws while the other pushed or pulled on the end to compensate for each board's bow. We had just finished when Mr Big pulled in just in time for beer and steaks. Uncanny timing.

"If we were taller we'd be able to touch the top of this post."

 The next morning was spent erecting the porch posts and building the 'box' they supported: A ledger board (lag-bolted to the cabin just above the front window trim) and 3 sides of doubled 2x6s to support the rafters. By lunch, we were ready to frame the roof, just as soon as I figured out the angles needed. And here we ground to a halt. Or rather, I did. They quickly bored of watching me scratch my head and began building the knee walls for the loft.

In retrospect, here's where I went wrong: For some reason, I constructed a Byzantine process for holding the boards in place and marking the cuts by eye rather than simply doing the math and laying the rafters out with a carpenter's square. I let myself be intimidated by the fact that -- unlike the cabin roof -- I was dealing with a hipped roof that would require multiple compound angles. After futzing around for a couple of hours and finally losing all hope (maybe I should just build a pergola?), I pulled out the carpenter's square and did it the right way.

Its a miracle!

And wouldn't you know it worked perfectly better than expected. By 5 PM the porch roof framing was up -- all 15 rafters in all of their compoundy-angle glory. We had only 3 problems:

1. The Paslode would periodically decide to go on a 15-20 minute holiday, its indicator light mocking us in green or red and refusing to respond to any of the manual's remedies until it was good and ready.
2. I swear to God every other sentence uttered that afternoon was "Where's the pencil?" Why did we have only one pencil? Why didn't one of us keep it in a pocket? In the future, I'm bringing at least 5 pencils to the job site; one will be tied to the mitre saw, and another is going to be Velcroed to my hat.
3. We forgot two ancient pieces of advice: 'Measure twice, cut once' and 'quit while you're ahead'. Rather than resting for the night on our framing laurels, we cut the first piece of sheathing into a shape that was breathtaking in how poorly it fit the roof. Breathtaking, I tell you.

On Sunday the team showed both determination and ingenuity in managing to sheath the entire porch roof despite being sure we had only enough material for about 80% of it. The tar paper, roofing shingles and -- as always -- the siding were left for another day.

"That's what all those games of Tetris were for..."

 While all of this was going on, Dan and Tom -- of Taylor Excavating -- were hard at work on the septic system. They began work on Friday morning, and were essentially done by Saturday night. The work will be inspected by Marquise and Morano early this week, and then Dan will finish covering, grading and seeding in about a week. He's also going to set the Sonotubes for the back deck, and -- depending upon the final costs -- possible topsoil and seed the east side of the cabin as well.

Our beautiful new septic tank in situ

 My father, Mr Big and I passed the evenings in the Saxtons River Inn while the LSW selflessly dealt with wrestling The Boy to bed. She felt that we might enjoy a 'guys weekend', and it certainly was appreciated. I owe everyone a debt of gratitude - this porch is one of my 'must haves' for the cabin, and without them it likely would have devolved into a simple deck with a pergola, an arrangement I would have grumbled about for years.

The first official beer on the porch.

Slow but Steady Progress

Interior, looking toward the bathroom and kitchen area

The cabin already lives in my mind as something we've been doing forever, so I was surprised to be reminded a few  days ago that we only started the work last May. Amazing.

My confusion probably stems from the fact that we were working almost every weekend last year, whereas this year we've only been up a handful of times. Last year we had a lockable shell to create before winter, and the process of framing a house yields dramatic results rather quickly. This year, the focus has been on the well, siding, and electrical, and the work is decidedly less glamorous.

The siding especially is monotonous work, made worse by the fact that my trim work is flush and needs to be cut around. I only have about 4 boards left to go (if you don't include the front, which I can't side until the porch is on), so we should be able to finish it next time around. Here's what I'd do differently next time:

• First and foremost, I'd make sure that the trim and siding is not flush. This would allow me to rabbet the trim so the siding can tuck under it, eliminating the need to try and get every cut 'just right'.
• I'd have gone with my first plan for window trim: Create a 'ladder' of trim that includes the window in the middle with sections of singles above and below it. The trim boards on each side would go from the bottom to the top of the wall. This would prevent me from having to cut around the windows at all, and would have tied the sides into the front (which I've now decided is going to be all shingle).
• I'd have gone with my original plan to do the rear gable in shingles. Trying to work with 16' boards that have to be trimmed to the angle of the roof, cut to fit around windows and held in place vertically while trying to get the spacing right is a real pain in the @ss.
• I would have sealed the back as well as the sides and face of each board. With the gaps I've got around the trimwork - small though they may be - I can't help but fear that they're going to rot before their time.

Almost done with the west side!

There's been two trips up since I last wrote: The first was a 2-night trip with the LSW and The Boy. Our primary goal was to flush out the well and test the water (everything checked out perfectly), and while this was happening we worked on the siding. By 2 PM on Saturday, we were exhausted and closed up shop when friends came to visit.

The second was a day trip with a friend. After a few beers the night before, he volunteered to accompany me the next day, and I'm guessing he was wondering what the hell he had been thinking when I pulled up at 6 am the next morning. I appreciated the help and the company, though I feel bad that I set him to work staining siding. We hung some additional siding and framed two knee walls for the front loft before packing up, hitting the Top of  the Hill BBQ joint in Brattleboro and heading for home. Thanks, Nick!

I should note that we had a little excitement during the day when the nail gun 'hopped' during firing and took a small chunk out of my right thumb. There was a lot of blood, but it turned out to be little more than a flesh wound. I can't really blame this on the gun - I was holding the boards together at an odd angle and without good bracing. While my thumb pulsed and ached the rest of the day, I realized that it was one of the very few accidents we have had so far in the building process - knock on wood.

The next trip up will be next weekend; my father is looking to lend a hand this year, and he's arranged to drive up on Thursday. We'll all head up to Shangri-La Friday morning, and Mr Big (my brother-in-law) will meet us there for 2 nights and 2 1/2 days of porch framing, front siding, and finishing what is left of the side/back siding.

Somehow I've got to fit a porch roof between the top of the door and the bottom of the gable window...

We've also decided to move forward on the septic system. Estimates on the system came in at right around $6,500, and once again we've decided to use Taylor Excavating. The work will include clearing the remaining trees, excavating, all materials, topsoil and seeding. I've asked Dan to estimate an additional load of topsoil and seeding for the rest of the property, and he noted that he would give us a credit for the pile of topsoil he saved during the initial land clearing. The work may begin as early as next weekend.

I hadn't expected to be able to do more than the well, electrical and siding this year, but it turns out we've run into a small annual inheritance in memory of my father's late wife. While this means the funding for the rest of the work is assured, the circumstance by which we receive it are sad. We'll think of her as the work completes, and she'll be a presence each time we use it. Rest in peace, Judy - you put up one hell of a fight.

Book Review Tuesday!

LSW here. During these times of trial cabin-building days, we've often turned to the local library for advice, instruction and 25 cent coffee. One book that the Vermonster has found to be invaluable was this:

He's renewed it so many times that the librarians know him. And the book. It's been out of circulation for a few months now. Apparently it was pretty helpful, because we now have power in the cabin.
That was the book he found most informative.
I, on the other hand, was excited to find this at the library booksale:

I found it on the last day of the five-day booksale, and I have no idea how it didn't get scooped up way before I got to it. I haven't had a chance to read it yet, but flipping through it, I was excited to see that it truly is a manual with instructions on how to dig and where. I just noticed that it's written by a woman. For some reason, this surprises me. Some feminist I am.

On Optimistic Estimates

Well, the fix is in: The revised septic is going to cost me about $6,700. Certainly better that the 11k+/- we were facing with the mound system, but significantly above the $5k I budgeted (and the $3,500 I was secretly hoping for). The same day the estimate came in, I happened to learn that psychologists long ago identified a systematic bias in humans toward overly optimistic estimates - even when those humans have experience with the thing being estimated. I don't have experience with estimating septic systems, but it helps to know that it wouldn't have mattered if I had. *sigh*

My original hope for this year had been to finish the siding (which means also building the front porch), install the electrical, hook up the well so we had water on the property (even if it was only through a hose) and get the septic installed. Doing this would mean that we could stay overnight and the exterior of the property would look finished - at least to the extent that the grass and grading would be complete.

The well, however, was about 2,000 more than I expected, and the septic looks like it will be the same, so something is going to have to wait. Our options:

• Scrounge about $700 to put the septic in and wait on the well and porch
• Finish hooking up the well, complete the porch and siding, and tuck away the remaining $2,500 toward next year's work.

I was on my way to arranging for the septic, but the LSW has convinced me that we should finish the well. Her reasoning? If we go with the well, porch and siding, at least we can say that everything we began this year is finished, and we have the option of staying overnight on occasion. If we go with the septic, we have the biggest remaining item out of the way, but only the electrical will actually be done, and we still can't use the place.

As always, I've asked Dan Taylor of Taylor excavating to take care of the trench from the well to the cabin, and Green Mountain Well will complete the process by adding the pump, pressure tank, hookup, sanitizing of the system and water testing. These items are supposed to come in at about $3,000 in total, and rest assured I've included a cushion to compensate for the so-called 'optimism bias' this time.

The Remains of the Day

Is there anything better than sitting in a comfortable recliner, fresh from a hot shower and a cold IPA in hand after 6 hours of travel and 5 hours of hard labor? Save your breath - I can state conclusively that there isn't. Unless you garnish the scene with a hot barbecue pulled pork sandwich topped with cold slaw. And maybe some sweet potato fries. Ah, well - 3 out of 5 ain't bad.

It's troubling, however, that my 5 hours of work bought me about 1/3 more siding on the back wall. That's about 6 boards total, to be honest. If you subtract the setup and tear-down time, that's an astonishing 1 hour per board. Now, granted, there was measuring, cutting and test-fitting multiple times to accommodate the upstairs window, and most had to be stained after they were up, but really, 1 hour per board?? At this rate, the siding will finally be complete - what? - just before I'm dead? They say slow and steady wins the race, though, so I plod along...

It was a milestone day, however, as I was finally working from a power cord plugged into an in-cabin outlet. Yes, CVPS hooked us up yesterday, and Hennessey finished connecting the various circuits into the box. The wiring itself isn't quite done, but the circuits that are now have power. The cloud to this silver lining, however, is that I also got the bill: $847 - about $200 more than I budgeted. Not that the bill from Hennessey was unreasonable - the criticism is aimed solely at my optimistic budgeting. For the record, Hennessey was a pleasure to deal with - I'd recommend them without hesitation.

So now we're waiting on the state to approve the revised septic plan, and Taylor Excavating to provide an estimate. I dare not hope that Dan will tell me that the septic will be $3,500 bucks, but unless he does we won't have both a well pump and a septic system this year. Still, with electrical in the house, we have the option of carting in our own water and staying overnight. Hell, we could even splurge on a solar camping shower and portable toilet and make the accommodations downright luxurious. Huh. I wonder how the LSW would feel about that?

The Quest for Water: Update

I just spoke with Green Mountain Well.

The good news: We have 20 gallons per minute.
The bad news: They found it at 300'.

Why bad? Because I had budgeted based upon about 200'. And I had assumed 20' feet of well casing. An extra 100' of depth and 80' of casing adds more than $2,000 to the total cost, putting my hopes of installing the septic this year in jeopardy.

The septic monitoring was also a mixed bag. We can move to an in-ground system (which is good), but the perk results dictate a system that is pretty big (which ain't so good). Still, the revised system should be a whole lot less expensive than the mound, so we'll see.

[7/18/10 Update: I got the preceding paragraph wrong. In speaking with the engineer, I understand that the perk actually isn't particularly bad. The system looks big because it is designed for a 3-bedroom home rather than our modest little shoebox. Could I reduce the size? Yes? Should I? Probably not. If I want to expand some day, things will be a whole lot easier and cheaper if I take the incremental cost during the initial install; if I decide to sell, the value will be much higher if the new owners can easily expand.]

My goal this year had been to get both the well and septic in so that:
A) The land that was cleared wouldn't completely regrow to engulf the cabin
B) The value of the property would be significantly enhanced on the off chance we were forced to sell for some reason.

Right now the budget is such that I can either wait on the well pump or wait on the septic system. To meet both goals, I should opt for the former. Though without the well pump, I've got no water for the fledgling grass, and - if the summer is dry - I could end up engulfed in weeds and trees again, resulting in extra expense next year. I suppose the next step is to get some hard estimates on the revised septic...

Checking In - January Edition

I'm writing from one of the common rooms at the Saxtons River Inn, enjoying a Switchback ale and trying not to let the gloomy, overcast day get me down. On the plus side, it's in the lower 40s; on the minus, there is mud and dirt everywhere. Blah. But you take the bad with the good, right? Bob (the inn's owner) was here to welcome us back, there's a game on in the pub, and The Boy is behaving, so all in all I can't complain.

The cabin? Still standing and dry on the inside, looking just a little forelorn beneath the grey skies. The only tracks on the property seem to be those of Michael Marquise - the site engineer who stopped by 2 days ago to make sure all of the monitoring tubes were in order for the septic reassessment. I traced his path around the cabin and noticed that the southern side of the roof is completely barren of snow, in contrast to the north side, which still has about 2' worth, trimmed in icicles.

I spoke with Michael (of Marquise and Morano, LLC) a few days earlier to confirm the reassessment work. He had taken the letter I had drafted giving permission to access the property, combined it with the monitoring tube plan he had provided to my excavator last spring, and forwarded both to the State of Vermont. As I understand it, Michael will monitor the tubes weekly throughout March, April and May to see how high the water table rises. Generally speaking, at least 2 of the 11 tubes need to show water no more than about 4' from the surface for the test to be successful. If all goes well, the engineering plans can be revised and turned around to me by mid-June. I'll be about $1,200 poorer, but the savings on the septic work could be as much as $6,000. If the test fails, Michael will stop monitoring immediately and only bill for the time spent. Some of the people around me have in-ground systems, so I've got a better than average shot.

At first I thought this would delay the work this year, but I suppose it doesn't. I've still got siding to finish, the front porch to build, and a few interior walls to put up. Most of the materials for those jobs is already in hand, so I can start when the weather is good enough. Beyond that, I won't know how much cash I'll have to work with this year until around April 15 anyway, so - with a little luck - the septic and well work can begin as soon as the odd jobs are done.

For now, however, there's nothing to do but check on the place once a month and dream of sunny, warmer weather...

Happy Holidays!

Despite my assertions that I was shutting down until spring, I’ve decided to come out of hibernation to wish both of you Happy Holidays! And while I'm here, I might as well comment upon our most recent trip to Shangri-La to make sure the cabin is still standing...

It is – capped with 2 feet of snow and apparently none the worse for the strain. I had hoped that the 12/12 roof pitch would be enough to shed snow, but the asphalt shingles apparently provide sufficient friction to keep it in place. We’ll see what things are like when we’ve got 5-6 feet in a month or two, but right now I’m feeling pretty good about the oversized roof rafters and the way we tied them to their joists with ½” carriage bolts in 5 locations on each side.

While I blazed an awkward circle in the virgin snow, the LSW and The Boy waited in the car. I popped into the basement to find it dry and uninhabited, and unlocked the front door. As I closed the door behind me, a funny thing happened: My enthusiasm returned. The mental exhaustion that hung over me in October and November lifted, and I actually got excited again about what we were doing. I looked at the stacks for siding and the half-finished bathroom wall, and found myself imagining it all finished, and us unloading the car for a quite winter weekend by the fire, snow gently falling outside the window. Lesson learned: Time away from the project is as important as time on the project.

And so my mind is turning again: Wiring, plumbing, insulation, drywall, flooring, septic, well, porches, etc, etc. What will I do myself, and what will I contract out? What kind of heat will we install? Should we put in a basic solar setup to sell power back to CVPS when we’re not using it? If we have to choose, should we put in the well first or the septic? (I’m leaning toward the well.) Should I build the kitchen cabinets myself?

A lot, of course, depends upon whether or not my esteemed employer decides to provide raises this year, and how much of a bonus pool they’ll provide in this (still) shaky economy. There are a few other potential sources of cabin funds, but the timing for them is uncertain, and I remain resolutely against taking out any loans. Consequently, the only thing we are committed to at this point is the additional septic tests, for which I have already contacted Marquise & Morano. The monitoring will begin in March and conclude in May, and hopefully result in revising plans from the current mound system ($$$$) to a conventional one ($$).

The trip up included an overnight stay at (as always) The Saxtons River Inn. Festooned with lights and decorations, it was a welcoming site on a very cold, dark evening, and the pub - filled with locals, conversation, conviviality and libations - proved a particularly agreeable environment for dinner. As always. The boy even managed to behave this time, and obligingly fell suddenly asleep at 8 PM, allowing the LSW and I to enjoy a stack of new books in peace and quite for a few hours before turning in. Perfect.

We’ll do it all again in January, February and March. Hopefully we’ll be ready to hit the ground running in April and finish this thing off.

The Dangers of Assumptions

In my professional life, I'm always on the lookout for assumptions, whether my own or my customers'. I ask every question at least 3 different ways, factor professional backgrounds and personalities into my information gathering techniques, and get everything I think I've heard validated. In my personal life, apparently, not so much.

When the environmental engineer told me in November that we'd need a mound system, we talked about additional testing he could do to determine if a cheaper conventional system could still be an option. He explained that the testing would take place in the spring, and we'd be looking for primarily for the water level in April, when the runoff from the snowmelt peaked. He told me to call him early in the year to set something up.

What he meant: The test is from March 1 to May 31, with April likely to be the best indicator of the height of the water table. Call me in January.

What I heard: We need to test in April, call me in March.

And so, based upon sloppy questions and incorrect assumptions, I called him today only to find that we're too late and won't be able to test now until next year unless I can credibly claim 'hardship' to the State of Vermont. 'Yuppy too impatient to wait for his trophy home in the woods' probably doesn't qualify, so I'm SOL. Sux.

Lesson learned? Just because I'm off the clock doesn't mean I should leave everything at the office.

We've been telling ourselves that the second septic test will determine how we move forward, but now we're stalled a full year if we do so. Looking for options, I was able to confirm that the location of the house and the well won't change due to the size and topography of the property, so we could start with them. And in doing so, the only safe assumption is that the current worst-case septic plan will hold. Ugh.

Permits

The next step after the perk test was to formally engage the environmental engineer to create the septic site plan and submit it to the State of Vermont for approval. As it turns out, this work is not 'officially' being performed for me, but instead for the current owner. I'm not even entitled to get the site plans and permit until the closing, though I was cc'd on all related correspondence.

I am entitled to pay, however: $210 to the State for the application, and $975.50 to the engineering firm for "additional field services, engineering design, general office, and mileage". Combined with the $650 for the perk test, that's a total of $1,835.50 in design and permitting work. And remember there's still another $1,500 or so in the spring to validate the actual water table and redesign the site plan if we find a conventional system is possible.

Ouch. I started with the impression that $1,000 would get me through permitting, but this just validates the conventional wisdom that big projects always cost at least twice as much as you expect and take 3 times as long.

For those of you keeping score:
11/24: I gave the engineer the 'go ahead' and mailed him a check for the state permit fee
12/18: Design work completed and filed with the state. A copy of the state regulations for the 'Innovative/Alternate System Approval' for the proposed "Enviro-Septic Leaching System" (http://www.presbyenvironmental.com/) is sent to me
12/19: The State of Vermont acknowledges receipt and advises that they have 30 days for review
12/22: The engineer bills me
12/23: The Vermont Agency of Natural Resources and Environmental Board forwards a 'Project Review Sheet', noting that I may also need permits from the Vermont Energy Code Assistance Center and local permits from the town
12/26: The realtor calls saying that the permit and approved design has been received by the current owner, and so we're officially 'go' to complete the purchase on 1/23.
Apparently the bureaucracy is relatively light in Montpelier. Ditto the town of Shangra-La, who informed me that they didn't even have a planning board, much less a permitting process for new construction. As long as I had the state septic permit, I could live in an old milk crate if I wanted. Nifty, that.
Now if the DOW would just add about 2,000 points in the next two weeks, I won't have to tear apart the couch looking for lost change for the closing.

Perk Test

I'm walking though the property with the environmental engineer. We've discussed the location I had wanted for the cabin - on the southern tip of the property where we can see the old meetinghouse. From there looking north the land forms a thin triangle of about 3 acres, heading uphill on a dead-end road on one side, and staying level beside a state road on the other. Both roads are dirt, and I have visions of clearing the southern tip to make a small field at the crossroads for the cabin to look out on. Besides the meetinghouse, there are are 2 old farmhouses across from the tip, and the rest of the land is wooded. If feels remote but cozy - a small huddle of humanity in a wilderness.

"This area looks wet. See these?" He holds up a weed. "I don't know what they are, but we always find them in damp areas." He gives the signal and the excavator begins digging a 5-foot-deep hole. The wall of dirt clearly reveals layers - rich brown soil bisected by bands of red and then grayer soils with darker bands below.
"See this?" he asks, handing me up a chunk of soil. "That's what you don't want to see - the red there is rust, just like on your car. You get that when the water table is high and consistently wet."
The rusty soil was less than 8 inches below the surface. I've been told we need at least 4 feet of soil above the water table to be able to put in a conventional in-ground septic system. "Let's head uphill - there are pines up there." He indicates a stand of trees about 100 feet ahead. "They don't like wet feet, so we might have some luck there."

We're doing a 'perk test', to see where a septic system might work, and what kind it will be. I've been warned that 'mound' systems are much more common in Vermont than in-ground, due to the high water tables as moisture travels over hard rock beneath shallow soils. I had thought these tests involved digging holes, filling them with water, and seeing how long it took to drain. Turns out the texture and coloring of the soil tell the engineer almost everything he needs to know.

We dug a total of four test holes along the dead-end road from the lowest to the highest point on the property. Unfortunately, the water table was never more than 3 feet below the surface. I'd have to have a mound system, which, at $10,000 - $13,000, would be double the price of an in-ground. "I've only found sites for 2 conventional systems in the last year," he tells me.

I'm just glad the property will take septic at all.

Turns out there's hope, though. If I want to do additional tests this spring, we can determine conclusively if the water-table banding is the result of an occasionally high water table or maybe standing water from the Jurassic era. If so, we might still be able to go conventional. The additional test would be another $1,000 (plus $500 for a revised design, but the savings could be 4 times that. Of course, we might find that the water table is consistently high, and it would be bad money after good.

But I got a bonus: The engineer and the excavator both had a wealth of information on the area and the land, which they freely shared over the course of 2 hours. They had excellent insight on where and how a house should be situated, and what I might expect to spend on a well ("You won't have any issue with water here - they'll only need to go down about 300 feet"), land clearing, and a foundation. "This is a nice piece," they both commented more than once, and offered suggestions on what could be done to make it nicer. Higher up on the land, the removal of a few trees would provide a view of the ridge line to the west; a few more trees, and I could overlook both the meetinghouse and the ridge line to the south.

All the while, the realtor hovered near us on the road, waiting to hear if I planned to use the septic contingency I put in the contract to back out of the deal. "We're good," I told her. "It may have to be a mound, but I still want it." When everyone had gone, I walked the land one last time as a light snow was falling, taking in the view of the ridge line through the trees by test hole #3, high above the original site. I was freezing after being under-dressed in 37 degrees for over 2 hours, but be damned if I didn't have a hard time leaving.