When someone gets taken to the woodshed, a beat down normally ensues. Well the Anderson’s Neck oyster shed has been beating me down for almost a full year now. Here’s how a simple shed can become very complicated.
After all our shed construction material was delivered, I had to get the necessary permits to begin. The permits required the small area where the shed was to be located to be marked off. To mark off the area, I needed to clear the brush and saplings. I had small loblolly saplings growing like weeds everywhere and I needed to cut a small spot in a 300+ acre wilderness. To clear the area, I needed to buy a bush hog. In order to transport the bush hog, I needed to buy a pull behind trailer. To pull a trailer, I needed to buy a large pickup truck. To purchase all of the above, I needed to drop some coin. So I proceeded to empty my wallet.
I ordered a commercial size walk behind brush mower. As advertized, it could handle cutting large saplings which meant it could also serve the secondary purpose of keeping our access road free of jungle like overgrowth. So I ordered the bush hog of all bush hogs. A month or so later upon delivery to my quaint little city home, all was well in the world.
That weekend, I cut a small area out of the wilderness. The prior owner of the land was interested in marketing the property to buyers who wanted the brush between every tree cut regularly to maintain a certain estate like appearance. I however, wanted nature, not manicured forests. So nature we have, in abundance I might add. Cutting the small area of saplings was quite a workout. I could not imagine how the prior owner managed to cut between every single tree throughout the entire property. That must have taken him forever.
I applied for and eventually received the proper permits. Finally, I could begin. Beginning meant putting fabric down in our small cut area to prevent weed growth below the stone. So we put the fabric down, ordered stone, and arranged for it to be delivered. Delivery was scheduled for the week my brother, Ben, was scheduled to come back from the Middle East after one of his multiple deployments and could help me out. What I didn’t tell Ben is that we had to move all the large stone around by hand as the individual stones were too big for rakes or shovels. I also did not have a backhoe or any other type of machine to push the stone around. So once the dump trucks delivered the stone, we proceeded to “sling rock” as we affectionately called it for several days until it was generally spread around the area. This was backbreaking, manual labor at its worst. Ben reminded me multiple times, that he had just returned from the Middle East where he was defending our country in terrible conditions, only to return to prison like chain gang labor at the Anderson’s Neck quarry. Ben eventually left, and I am sorry to say I was still slinging rock for a couple of weeks until I could set the block piers for the shed’s floating foundation. Leveling and placing all the block piers was by itself a month-long endeavor when considering the work had to be done only on weekends.
My trusty architect friend Wilson had helped me set the piers and once they were finally in place, he firmly took control of the construction phase of the project. In the matter of a day, we were able to frame the sub flooring. Next came the framing of the walls, cutting the exterior paneling down to size, and putting them all together. Once that was complete, we then built 14 trusses and gable ends. Did I mention we did this all by hand, with no nail gun? Wilson enjoyed reminding me as frequently as possible after a full day of nonstop hammering that man had invented a nail gun for a good reason. Our arms felt like rubber gummy worms after we finished this part of the project.
Next we put all the walls in place and then asked my brother-in law, Jacob, to come out and help us install the trusses. Between Jacob, Wilson, my architect friend Steve Buell, and photographer friend Chris Cunningham, we installed the sheathing for the roof and flooring for the loft. Each time we worked on the shed, we were placing a large tarp over the roof to keep it as dry as possible until the metal roofing could be installed. On one particularly windy weekend after a very long day of work, Wilson and I had to get the tarp over the shed. We managed to attach the tarp to one side of the shed and let the wind take the tarp like a sail 30-40 feet into the air and pull it across to the other side where we could tie it down. I wish our photographer friend Chris was there that day to document that ridiculous scene. The tarp was catching so much wind that for a few moments we expected the entire shed to get lifted up in the air and go crashing through the forest canopy. Luckily for us, the shed proved too heavy for flight.
I ordered all the 5V metal roofing panels, gable trim, ridge cap, tar paper, adhesive tape, eave trim, and loads of roofing screws and awaited their delivery. For the next three months or so, we were busy drilling the holes in the panels and trim, lifting the panels up onto the steep roof, and using this ridiculous ladder system I had constructed to climb up on the roof so I could screw everything into place. It was hard work for many days standing on a ladder. It did come with one benefit, which was a breathtaking view on top of the shed overlooking the forest, salt marsh, and York River.
Jacob cut the holes to install the windows on the wall facing the Western side of the shed. Laura and I primed the trim boards. The final touches involved Laura and I painting the shed and having the small crushed stone delivered atop the larger ballast stone surrounding the shed. After smoothing the stone around and installing a small ramp, we finally have a place to store all our oyster supplies.
The shed is great and makes life much easier for us now. Wilson is already dreaming up expansion plans as we speak. My only criticism to the shed kit manufacturer is that they might want to reconsider their marketing brochure which claims: “Build your shed in two days with our easy to follow instructions” and “only basic carpentry skills required.” Perhaps they should change their marketing to a more accurate depiction of reality: “Don’t buy this kit you moron. You aren’t a contractor and have no business pretending like you are. Hire a real carpenter and roofer to build this shed. Otherwise you are going to need to call in multiple weekend favors over the course of a year from individuals formerly known as your friends. Repeat, your friends will all run and hide because they know every time you call them they might be asked to work on this dumb shed and they will avoid you like the plague if they are smart. Do not proceed. This shed will become the bane of your existence.” Perhaps my version of the marketing pitch isn’t quite as catchy, and it might dampen sales a bit. With that being said, it would be a tad bit closer to reality than the first version.
