Deck Project True Indicator Of Summer

My most cherished bric-a-brac at the lake appears to be nothing more than a few weathered strips of moulding, shortened lengths of 2x4, and fragments of pine board.

These treasures lie, like untrained country kittens, beneath the almost-level deck my friend Ted Wert and I built 11 years ago on a cabin overlooking Lake Pend Oreille.

Over the years, the valuables have been collected from a variety of soon-to-be-finished projects: new patio doors, an enlarged window in the bedroom, the last of trying to hide the mistakes of an early addition.

At the end of these sweaty, not-quite-long-enough weekends, a few odds, ends and irregulars always remained scattered like puzzle pieces from these projects.

In town, these leftovers would be trash.

At the cabin, they must be viewed as opportunities for next year.

Now, next year is here.

Memorial Day weekend officially opens the season of good intentions at a cabin.

You could heard the gearing up of these good intentions from Harrison to Priest River.

Chainsaws whined, hammers banged, pick-up trucks laden with uncovered loads from last year’s mess or carrying new materials for this project sped along the country roads, their happy captains of industry at the wheel.

This year, I simply went to the stash beneath the deck.

First came the work of plugging up the chewed-through hole where squirrels gained entry into what I’m sure they considered the Pend Oreille Hilton.

Through the winter, the squirrels managed to transport 50 pine cones from nature to the dresser drawers.

When my wife arrived at the cabin, the squirrels were none too happy to see her.

I thought for a moment the BB gun might be employed. Instead, loud shouting and a careful insert of a cedar shingle across the opening of the rafters seems to have reclaimed the cabin for human habitation.

Next came a search for bon fire fodder and a suitable s’more stick.

The season’s first campfire with s’mores could not be constructed until the fire pit was cleaned and a combustible teepee constructed with more of the old shingles.

Once the fire raged, the s’more stick would provide the necessary safety gear to keep children from singeing off their eyebrows in pursuit of a crisper crust for a marshmallow.

But the most important, compelling and uplifting use of those remainders from projects past comes when they are used to sketch out projects yet to come.

This summer, the project talk runs to more deck.

Did you know decks are the hottest do-it-yourself project in America? And have you ever seen a cabin with too much deck? The first rule of building a deck remains constant: lay out the plan before you begin to build or buy.

Nothing assists in the planning of a deck at a cabin like a large supply of old boards, planks, and mouldings.

Every design can be imagined as these pieces of past projects are pulled from the pile and placed along an imagined perimeter.

A level, a carpenter’s string and batterboards might make this planning more exact.

But a project at a cabin on the first weekend of the season isn’t about exactness or being plumb and square.

It is about possibilities.

This is not work you have to do, but long to do.

A project laid out with a few old boards relies on the mind and imagination, where friends are gathered at sunset, laughing and raising a toast to that new deck.

Over the weekend I laid out a dozen different designs.

At the end of the holiday I left my favorite outline lying there as small memorial to big plans at the beginning of the summer.

Of course there is a boat to get in.

Bushes need trimming.

Fishing season is heating up.

My son wants to hike to the top of the ridge and my daughter wants to spend more time at Silverwood.

So, the odd boards lying there atop the pine needles may be the reminder of a new deck I see this season.

But summer is young and the possibilities boundless in those old boards.

, DataTimes MEMO: Chris Peck is the Editor of The Spokesman-Review. His column appears each Sunday on the Perspective page.