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Should I be my own GC?  Read more
Against Entropy  Read more

—Originally Published in Timber Framing, the Journal of the Timber Framers Guild

Sustainability requires durability Read more
Sustainable  Read More

Should I be my own GC?

Since we work with so many owner builders, we though it might be helpful to share some expertise about the job of general contracting.   In this article we'll define some of the realities that you can expect if you're considering being an owner/builder.

Let’s look at what a good General Contractor, (GC), does and what you should be prepared to take responsibility for if you decide to be your own GC.

Build and manage a budget. This critical step should begin during the early phases of design.  A spreadsheet is the best tool for tracking and monitoring your budget.  A good budget includes the hard numbers generated by bids from sub-contractors and suppliers, plus some contingency for unexpected costs. It’s necessary to have a percentage of expected costs set aside to cover unexpected costs. Unexpected costs can result from: weather, change in construction schedules, change in subcontractor schedules, missing or unclear information in the design, errors, omissions, oversights, unavailable supplies, your change in tastes, breakdowns in communication between any and all parties, etc.

Select, hire, and manage subcontractors. A good GC usually works with a consistent group of sub-contractors and will bring to the table an already established relationship with that group of subs.

If you decide to be your own GC, you will not have the advantage of established relationships with subcontractors. After taking the time to sort through and select subcontractors, you may be less than impressed by one of your choices. It's not the end of the world. If you’ve budgeted time and money realistically, you’ll be prepared to deal with a few surprises. Good GCs are constantly working with some new subcontractors, and don’t have a perfect group at any point.

We recommend a selection process for subcontractors where lowest price is not the primary qualifier, and is balanced with other considerations that are also important. Good subs communicate well and expect to document their relationship with you.  They know how to write and bid a specific scope of work, and are willing to define what it is they expect from you and what you can expect from them throughout the process. Communication and documentation are everyone's ally in this contracting process, and good sub-contractors know that and are willing and able to provide clear communication and documentation. You will be attempting to have a relationship with a group of people you probably won’t know, and all the potential pitfalls of relationships are here and can happen. The list includes: Poor communication , unspoken expectations, stress over financial matters, etc., etc.

Manage the paperwork with subs and the bank, organize monthly payments from wherever the money’s coming from to wherever it’s going to.
In the early stages, this will mean producing, sending out, reviewing, and signing contracts and purchase orders with subs and suppliers.  Some will offer their contracts to you, some will request that you produce the paperwork.  Either system can work, just don't get involved without some written agreement in place.  Even the simplest of written agreements will be a tenfold improvement over a verbal or implied agreement.  After work begins, payments will need to be made according the the schedule agreed to in your contract.  (We use contract loosely here to refer to any form of written agreement between you and your suppliers or subcontractors.)  We recommend setting up agreements so that payments are monthly. This makes the job of accounts payable easier to do and easier to keep track of. You can always make exceptions if you’re willing to, and probably will at least once a month. Minimizing mid monthly payments is the goal. If you’re financing your project through a bank, they will already understand and probably insist on once a month billings. Many banks will require site inspections before authorizing payments.

Your job as GC will be managing a web of people and expertise. If you have good organizational and communication skills or experience managing teams of people in other fields, you’ll probably do fine, and occasionally better than people who do this for a living. If you have trouble speaking your mind, are unfamiliar with spreadsheets, tend to avoid confrontation, or in general are not very organized, this process may not be for you. Again, this is about managing relationships. A lot of them.

The most challenging part of being an owner/builder may be dealing with correcting things that have gone wrong. Things "going wrong" can usually be pointed to one of the causes listed below.

1. The scope of work was incomplete or inaccurate.
2. The scope of work was complete and accurate, but it was misunderstood.
3. The scope of work was complete and accurate, but the subcontractor is trying to cheat by substituting different work or different materials. (I think this is actually very rare. Especially if you’ve used a decent screening process.)
4. The scope of work was complete and accurate, but you are trying to cheat by asking for more work or more materials. (This is also very, very rare.)

If you've established a good, open relationship with your subcontractors, the path to correcting any of the above situations need not be difficult or painful.  It will require creating some clear communication that was missing previously, and agreeing to a solution. Good initial communication that includes clear proposals and scopes of work will fix most problems before they have a chance to happen, but when they do you will have to practice being diplomatic but firm.  Accept responsibility for gaps in the spec or contract language that are yours, and work with people to correct things that are not what you want, regardless of the origin of the error. When in doubt, be willing to have conversations that you might under other circumstances consider rude. The chance of hurting someone’s feelings are rare, and frankly, irrelevant.

If there are things that you would like to change from the original scope of work, don’t be afraid to ask. This is your house, your vision, your investment, and you should finish the project satisfied with what you've created. 

If you decide to take the plunge and act as your own GC, remember that all of us at Frameworks Timber are here to help.  We're used to providing both moral and technical support, and really do look forward to helping you realize your project vision however we can.

Happy Building and Good Luck!

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Against Entropy

—Originally Published in Timber Framing, the Journal of the Timber Framers Guild

STRUGGLING to find a reason to build that satisfied my desire for social contribution, I nearly quit the building industry. There was a whole list of reasons, among them boredom and frustration with the residential construction industry for its lack of intellectual and social demands on builders, a felt disconnection from clients (I’ve always acted as a subcontractor) and difficulties finding local resources for our most basic raw material, timber––not to mention the difficulty of finding a good balance between making a living and making a life.

But a recent timber framing job (pictured on the facing page) that followed on the heels of a commercial truss job for our local billionaire, satisfied, at least in part, some of those desires. Though far from groundbreaking or unique in the timber framing field, it represented both a milestone and a stepping stone for me personally and as the operator of my company.

Built in northern Colorado where the foothills meet the plains at an altitude of about 4800 ft., the frame used 17,120 bd. ft. of white fir and Douglas fir and covers 2428 sq. ft. (including porches), measured inside the straw bales that will enclose it. Roof snow load, which varies widely in Colorado, is only 30 lbs.

We found a mill not too far away harvesting trees big enough to make real timbers—white fir, Engelmann spruce and some Douglas fir. The trees we used were harvested in a beetle-kill area in an attempt by the US Forest Service to manage the bug problem before it destroyed the entire forest. Those factors, plus surprisingly low costs, were the positives. On the downside, our timber arrived in less than ideal condition, poorly packaged, dirty and with significant handling damage. The mill’s mechanized tumblers had left a pair of black grease streaks every 6 ft. on most of the timbers. Almost none of the timbers arrived without broken corners from the tumblers or forklifts. Muddy footprints and piles of dirt were part of the package. A few sticks flatly failed grade (even though they all had a grade stamp), and more than a few others were definitely at the bottom of the grade. We asked for and got free replacement of about ten sticks. We used a few we really didn’t want to.

Fortunately, we had very enthusiastic clients who loved the fact that the timber was local. We solved a big portion of the handling damage by planing the entire frame, even though we had sold it originally as roughsawn. It seemed the right thing to do, considering the level of expectation I had for the finished product and what I felt the clients had a right to expect. They also accepted some less than perfect surfaces and corners that another kind of client might have rejected.

I’m proud of the project socially for a few reasons. The clients are local by any standard (nine miles from my house to theirs) and, in the process of building their house, all the participants seem to have managed to increase the size of their human communities. As one measure, at the raising there were five paid staff and 13 working volunteers, plus a few observers and photographers. A few of the volunteers came because of an invitation I sent out to about 150 people; the rest were friends or family of the client, or people who had somehow heard about the event and showed up, happier to work than to stand by. Contribution to a local cause, even if it appears to benefit only a few people specifically, I consider to have a huge impact on true community. Thus my obsession with local interactions above any other concern about our environment or the status of the world. We’re as likely to care for people we’ve helped as we are to care for people who’ve helped us.

My largest goal as a builder is to influence the relationship people have with their built environments. I’m convinced that people who contribute real work in whatever way they can to the houses they live in will have dramatically different experiences with their houses from those of folks who merely stand by and watch the whole process. I’ve never worked in the Colorado ski towns and have no plans to chase the trophy work there. I’m not saying I wouldn’t build a trophy house if the job landed on my desk with a pile of money, mind you. It just seems way more satisfying and interesting to be involved with people who intend to live in their house 12 months a year (imagine that).

I understand that none of us is in business particularly to make new friends. But it’s satisfying for me when our status with the future owners of a house looks a lot more like trusted advocate than necessary contract holder. These clients included as part of their contracted payment (honestly) oatmeal cookies, fresh eggs, dog-sitting and consultation about our marketing strategy.

I can’t actually yet prove to myself that what I do solves my appetite for social contribution, but I have some evidence. The several local carpenters who’ve worked on this job plus more than a few passersby seem to have a new understanding of the possibility of craft. I hesitate to use the word inspirational, but it may fit. Even the metal stud and drywall carpenter who has been remodeling the space we rent was fascinated enough by what he saw in our shop to come to the raising and help out for a couple of hours. I like, in general, when men and women doing the daily grind of building are able to elevate their imaginations and their perspectives. Pride in workmanship may be one way to describe it, although that term insufficiently explains what I’m interested in. Good work and right livelihood are connected here, beyond my ability to describe but not beyond my ability to appreciate.

As for intellectual demands on residential builders, some stuff began to satisfy. Working from a basic, undetailed set of drawings by a straw-bale designer from Massachusetts, I designed the frame with the help of two engineers and one veteran joiner. This required halting the already started concrete foundation work until we had really finished the design. Interior pads and the turneddown haunch for the monolithic slab (the thickened portion at the perimeter that generally replaces the footing and frost wall) were all eventually respecified, and all the buried runs of hot water pipes, rebar and electrical conduit were mapped out to avoid our Timberlinx anchors and the epoxied threaded rod below them.

Through the project I’ve fulfilled some of the role of a good general contractor. Which I could have done officially, I suppose, but I found I enjoyed the position of advocate for the homeowners without the day-to-day responsibility of a general contractor. The homeowners, who acted in this case as their own general contractor, called when they needed something or were worried; otherwise it was their baby. Their questions covered materials availability, relationships with other subcontractors, contracts, payment structures, how to handle estimating error in a job—and what to do when you feel unqualified to do your job.

Two itinerants worked on this frame. That they were on the road seemed less relevant than it used to. I used to feel of itinerants (and I have been one) that being on the road was really their story, as I think most people believe. But the story is just about good people, not how they got here or how long they’re staying. Five good people cut the frame in the shop, and I’m as proud of the camaraderie that prevailed there as any physical product we produced. As far as I can tell, we all shared lunch and cared for one another as brothers. Best crew I’ve ever had.

Some of my expectations remain vague even to me but I’m willing to enjoy what already feels successful. Elevated tradespeople, community involvement, client involvement, good shop culture—I’ll take it. The problem of making a living (including a profit) and making a life is partially solved. During this job it took me 12 hours a day to get done what I had to do, more than I like to schedule for myself. But if part of the excess represents the work and energy needed to get a real business off the ground, I’m willing to do that. I also continue whenever I can to hire people more skilled and more educated than I am. A new marketing company, a new bookkeeper and Curtis Milton here for a week to do compound joinery are a few examples.

I appreciate our timber framing trade for its relatively high percentage of people who have social consciences apparently equal to their business instincts. I think both of those faculties should increase constantly and equally for people to fully resist worldwide entropy. —ADRIAN JONES

Adrian Jones (adrian@frameworkstimber.com) founded Frameworks Inc. in 1996, put it to rest for a couple of years to go on the road as an itinerant, then started up again as Frameworks Timber in Wellington, Colorado, not far from the Wyoming border, in 2005.

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Sustainable

Building a house with exceptional design and materials and the best information we have will surely produce houses that the next generation will fight to keep.

Buildings that are built well enough that future generations will care about keeping them are one of the greatest examples of real-time recycling and actual sustainability. Every building, in its life, will fall into disrepair - the best built ones, the worst ones. From castles in Normandy to cabins in New England, every building ever built faces a struggle against water, wind, and its occupants. No building that has ever lasted for long periods of time has done so without repair, maintenance, and even rebuilding. All across America, in old neighborhoods that we were once so essential to the very character of towns, remodeling and refurbishing projects are going on. You can imagine the neighborhoods, with their elm-lined front lawns and houses built before Main Street America became subdivisions and stock plans. These houses are being repaired and saved for another generation of use for one big reason: Preserving the house and the neighborhood seems worth it. Their architecture is attractive, and the original materials are often better than the ones in common use today. For our tastes, the bedrooms are maybe too small, there aren't enough bathrooms and the kitchens are too confined - but almost everyone seems to agree that they're worth saving. So you knock out a couple of walls, replace the kitchen cabinets, accept a couple of compromises, and give an old house a new life. Most of these old homes, at least in the west, probably aren't timber frames. Neither are they built to todays standards of quality. I live in one that's 91 years old, and the original fir siding wasn't back primed or even installed with galvanized nails. But building a house with exceptional design and materials and the best information we have will surely produce houses that the next generation will fight to keep.

How do you build a house to last for centuries?

• Start a house with exceptionally good design, materials and workmanship. Working with Frameworks Timber can assure the integration essential to designing and building sustainable building.
• Maintain it with first class care and materials while you own it.
• Turn it over to another generation that you know will take responsibility.

Why do I advocate timber framed homes?

• They inspire me. The opportunity to leave workmanship on display for generations is good work.
• I believe that they challenge other tradespeople to do better work. At the least, they defy the prevailing norms and values of the construction industry and developers at large as they introduce more conscious and sustainable building practices.
• I think they hold an exceptional chance of being valued highly by future generations and preserved through a long life.
• I think they inspire their occupants. I've never met anyone not at least interested, and usually impressed by a building held together with pegs. I still am.
• Ask me in person.

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