Three Season Room

Last summer, we noticed that our back porch and deck had a problem.  One corner was sinking.  It has been deteriorating over the past few years, having been constructed 33 years prior. The structure was not exceptionally sturdy or finished.  It was a typical mass production deck and screened-in porch purchased through a big-box store chain and rapidly assembled by a contract team that worked for the store. Moreover, it was not nearly up to the current building code standards required by our county today.

That showed when we decided to take it down 11 months ago.  The footers had rotted away, and an abundance of nails was used in the structure, to the point where it actually weakened the wood in the joists, stringers, and planks that constituted the deck.  It needed to come down.

So, I hopped on my laptop and, using my PowerPoint program, designed a new deck and three-season room that was superior to the slapdash one that teetered on the back of our home. 

Researching the county code, I learned that I would need to get approval from zoning to replace the old deck with one that was actually occupying the very same space.  My PowerPoint design would suffice.  However, when I went to apply for a building permit, I learned I would need the county engineers to approve my design.  It would require me to comply with a rather complex code standard that was far more demanding than what was required in 1992.  My PowerPoint plan wouldn’t suffice.

Fortunately, a friend who was an architect agreed to take my rudimentary drawing and design it according to the Virginia building code.  It was an excellent effort.  We planned to use superior materials for the deck as well as significantly upgraded windows and doors for the three-season room.  Once the plan was complete, I submitted it for approval, only to find that the engineers were exceptionally skilled at identifying all the small changes required to obtain a building permit.  In time, the back and forth nearly drove me to derision.  Their nitpicks were so obscure that even my architect friend was pulling his hair out, wondering why they were objecting to so many minuscule details that required four revisions.

Finally, I decided to take my builder along, who is an exceptional fellow of great skill and exacting requirements himself, to negotiate with the engineers and satisfy them that we would be constructing an excellent deck and porch.

Once we had final approval, the building began.  It was no small effort, and my sons pitched in to help with the demolition of the original structure.  My builder then kicked into high gear in the late fall, only to encounter several weeks of rain in December and a cold snap that slowed his work.  It was well into January before he was able to dig and set the footers.  And of course, we had to pass an inspection when that was done before we could begin building the framework.  That too required an inspection.  Then it was time to install electrical wiring.  Yep, another inspection. 

Then came laying down the tongue-and-groove floorboards in the three-season room, which I spent several weeks staining, then sealing each board with polyurethane.  Yes, they look great.  Finally, we had to order the windows and doors for the enclosed room.  We opted for a product called Eze-Breeze, which has pliable but durable windowpanes with screened windows that can slide either fully down or fully up.  It is a remarkable system, although expensive, that is highly suitable.  And since it is not regular glass, the stringent code requirement associated with rigid window frames did not apply to our building permit; yet another trick we learned in our repetitive visits with the engineers. They were both exacting and helpful, despite my strained patience.

So, what did I learn in all of this?  First, building a new deck that is essentially the same footprint as the old one is not as simple as you might expect.  The county engineers will have an opinion on just about every aspect of what you are doing.  Second, when the inspector comes around, he might not completely agree with how you are approaching the work, even if you meticulously followed your plan.  They also have opinions.  Finally, we were wise to use the builder we selected.  The fellow worries more about my plan than I do. And if you know me personally, you will realize how much I worry about details.

Happily, the work is almost done, and unlike custom decks, this one is far superior.  The cost?  Well, north of $50K.  And yes, I know to the penny how much this set me back, along with the associated pain and necessary patience needed to build a three-season room.