APRIL 9, 2021 – Between rain showers this week, I’ve been dashing over to the 20-year old, backyard cedar treehouse that I’m disassembling for its treasure trove of lumber. As I’m discovering, there’s as much art, engineering, and imagination involved in taking apart a structure of this size and structure as there is in putting one together.
The main thing is not to kill yourself. This avoidance feature requires more than an elementary understanding of physics. It requires that you actually observe them. For example, every action with a crowbar can result in an immediate and opposite reaction on the part of a stubborn 2 x 4. If you’re standing too close to the edge of a (now) railing-less deck or, God forbid, you’re high on a ladder, you’ll likewise experience the power of gravity. Falling onto rain-soaked earth would be one thing. Falling onto a set of 2 x 4 framing plates bristling with face-up, 16d nails would be quite another.
Then there are lesser risks—pulling out nails with the hammer claw and having them fly into, oh, let’s say . . . your eye. That’s why there’s a market for safety glasses and face shields. But hey, this is ’Mrca where real men git ’er done. I simply make sure I stay mindful of where the nail will likely fly, then, for back-up, turn my face away from any possible trajectory my way. Better to have a sharp nail in the back of the head than in the front.
Then comes the reason for putting yourself at any risk at all: the lumber loot. In this case, I’m working with a veritable treasure trove of hand-selected 2 x 4s and high-quality cedar siding and heavy-duty planks. The former are the straightest, cleanest I’ve ever encountered. A person would have to pick through hundreds of “sticks” at Home Depot to find a one that matches the quality of what I’ve been pulling from ye olde treehouse. The cedar too is nothing short of beautiful. The 2 x 6 planks used for interior decking are pure gold.
Speaking of precious earth metal, I’ve been pretending to be a Spanish conquistador in search of fortune in the New World. To reach the silver—those 2 x 4s—and get the gold—the cedar planks—you don’t just sail your yacht across smooth waters, dock at a fancy marina, and load your loot. No, you have to get your hands dirty, oppose gravity, and dodge projectiles; besides—or better yet, apart from—brute force, you have to be smart about deconstruction. You have to think like Archimedes, because so much of the operation is about leverage. With sword (crowbar) in one hand and flintlock pistol (hammer) in the other, you first have to cross the stormy seas (roof removal), then face all manners of mortal dangers (siding removal from a ladder or by leaning over walls).
Late yesterday I mined my first planks—er, gold. Today—between tropical storms—I’ll load it onto my galleon and sail for Spain.
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© 2021 by Eric Nilsson
