Behind any finished product are dozens of provisional steps no one will ever see

You lay a carefully measured foundation only to hide it with four walls and a roof. You support a newly-raised wall with a diagonal floor-to-ceiling two-by-four that gets removed when the second wall goes up. You attach an entire piece of plywood siding just to carve gaping rectangular holes for a door and window. You painstakingly unspool roll after roll of roofing felt only to obscure it with a layer of shingles. It sucks to erase carefully executed work; yet—and this is true in so many pursuit—we must to destroy to create.

Nailing a provisional strut to support the first wall. It was a crucial step a the time, but that strut was soon removed to make room for the second wall.

Prior to installation: salvaged windows that we bought cheaply from recycled home center in downtown Portland.

In building (as in anything) mistakes are inevitable, and most can be fixed

At one point or another, we made just about every mistake in the book. Buying the wrong lumber (Home Depot, it turns out, does take returns, even if the order weighs a thousand pounds). Hammering nails crookedly. Falling from a stepladder (…yeah, that was me). Butchering a saw job that needed to be straight. Improperly measuring slots for doors and windows. Dropping an entire rafter from fifteen feet in the air. …and these barely scratch the surface.

After every mishap, however, our builder buddy William (the one guy in the group who very much knew what he was doing, as well as what the rest of us were supposed to be doing) devised a creative workaround; then he would share a story about a different time he’d seen the same mistake. He taught us that most mistakes have been made before; they’ll be made again; and a little creative thinking goes a long way.

Turns out you’re supposed to cut on the line, not a quarter inch off of it.

Hacking two inches off a wall that was too long. Mistakes are not permanent.

For extended work and travel, wool clothes cannot be beat

We packed light. One pair each of pants and shoes. A few pairs of socks. Sweatshirts and rain jackets. And a single wool t-shirt. By the end of the week, our pants and socks were crusty with dirt and grime and didn’t smell great. Yet, our wool t-shirts remained soft and barely smelled. How is this possible?—It turns out wool is naturally anti-microbial, wrinkle resistant, and durable (6x stronger than cotton!). So there’s no better fabric for extended work or travel outdoors.

A lot can be accomplished in the absence of a computer

“But I can’t leave my phone at home… I’ll miss a week’s worth of emails, Snapchats, and updates from the ESPN app. NO!” So many of us are developing a phobia of disconnectedness, rooted in the feeling that nothing in work or life can get done without a laptop or smartphone.

On the build site we operated on Airplane Mode, occasionally snapping a picture or two but using our phones for nothing else. It was great to be reminded that Google searches and Quora feeds are no substitute for picking up a hammer, saw, or piece of wood—no substitue for doing something. A lot can be done in the absence of 4G, Wifi, a search bar, and a keyboard.