Patio Remodel: Episode 6 Converting the patio roof from being supported by six columns to only two will require some serious support work. Granted, the overall weight will be reduced as I remove so much wood and rolled roofing and replace it with aluminum, but 20x20 is still a big roof to support.
The new, steel support posts need to sit atop massive, 31” cubes of concrete. I’d have to create truly massive blocks, compared to our current 6x6 posts. These are currently sunk into shallow holes with a dribble of concrete piddled around the edges.
Layout
I spent a good bit of time figuring out just where the posts would need to be. I ran some string lines and zipped my tape measure in and out more than I could count. Of course, one landed smack dab on the old patio and the other landed on our beautiful pool deck. I’d hoped the set backs would miss the pool deck, but I knew it was a probability. I started with the old, ugly patio.
Those are some brand new, clean work pants. Stay tuned…
I found the center spot and snapped a chalk line. Once I had that, I measured outwards to get the outline of the footing.
Snap!
A 31” square wouldn’t quite fit on the edge of the patio. I figured I wouldn’t try to keep that narrow web on the far side; I’d just take the whole corner out.
Bullseye.
An old trick to keep chalk lines from disappearing prematurely, is to give them a solid toot of hairspray.
Steve Harrington would use exactly 4 puffs of Farrah Fawcett
I ‘d picked up a nice diamond blade for my circular saw to do the expeditionary cuts. I figured I could cut most of the way through and then just break it off with a sledge hammer or hammer-drill.
Gleaming in its diamond encrusted glory
That blade sliced the mystery stone and the concrete like butter. I did two passes just to be safe and keep my 20 year old Skilsaw from overheating.
It ain’t just for cutting 2x4s kid.
It simply powdered the surface and left a nice clean cut. That saw screamed and spat fine dust everywhere.
Watching the line.
It was easy enough to rip the stone layer off first. I slipped a chisel in my electric hammer-drill and went to town.
Stop. Hammer time.
With that layer off, I could clean up and take a crack at the concrete.
Not wearing sunblock, idiot.
Looser
I don’t know what I was thinking really. I figured I’d get close enough to break it loose. I don’t know why I’d never dug down to see how thick the slab was. It turned out, with the ugly tile on top, I basically scored the surface. There wasn’t any more reach to be had on my circular saw. Even if I pulled enough of that stone off to drop the saw another half-inch, it would only reach halfway. I’d never be able to snap that off.
A swing and a miss
In times like these, when I have miserably failed to appropriately judge the size of a tool required, I consider the all-time expert in understated, but highly factual size assessments, Chief Martin Brody, Police Chief at Amity Island, circa 1975.
I know what he’d say…
Damn right.
As much as I take any excuse to go buy a new tool, I didn’t even consider it for this job. I cannot imagine me getting enough use out of a big ass concrete saw to be worth the price. The next day, I headed off to Home Depot to rent one.
Like a DIY candy store
Now that’s a Saw
I snagged a 14” electric concrete saw. In a spectacular feat of not paying attention, I didn’t realize I ended up paying about $50 for the saw and $50 for the rental of the blade for 4 hours. I thought it was $50 total for some reason.
Still, a hundred bucks is way cheaper than buying the saw or hiring a cutting contractor, but both of these rental pieces were in really rough shape, making my task a miserable endeavor.
Now that’s a saw! (and another pair of clean pants)
I’d had good luck with Home Depot rentals before, but this time was different. The saw’s base shoe was bent and missing a bolt to keep it steady. I replaced the bolt from my collection of merry misfits, but it didn’t help much. I had to fight the tool the whole time. I made each cut in three passes, when my arms gave out or I misjudged my best attempt at a 90-degree angle, the saw would either jump up and out of the cut, or it would bind up and trip a circuit breaker (on the other side of the house). The diamond blade was well past its prime, nowhere near the nice experience I’d had with the brand-new, 7-inch blade in my circular saw.
Still, I eventually got it down to full depth.
Cloudy day
It got the job done. It was free, except for the corner that was left by the curve of the saw blade.
I moved the operation over to the poolside. The cool-deck cut about the same as the old patio, miserably. If the saw had been in better shape and the blade was fresh, I easily would have finished in a fraction of the time.
It took me nearly 3 hours of fighting with that saw to get it done, between resetting the breaker and resting my cramping arms, but I finally got the task done. I was absolutely exhausted. Done for the day.
On the pool deck, I’d cut the opening smaller than the 31-inch footprint. I wanted the opening to hide below the edge of a future wooden deck, obscuring my concrete work, so I’d burrow under the pool deck to get the width and let new concrete flow beneath. That’s the plan anyway.
Looser, again
A couple of days earlier when I had finished failing the first concrete cut, using the 7” blade. I’d loaded a chisel bit into my SDS Hammer drill. I figured I could maybe break up the slab, a little at a time, by busting off the edges.
My big, corded Makita hammer drill, is a beast. In drill mode, it runs circles around my smaller DeWalt cordless (which is a pretty stout drill as well). In hammer-only mode, it did a great job popping the tiles up with the chisel. However, it wasn’t effective in breaking up 5 inches of concrete. I’d barely nibbled the edge.
Failure.
Chief Brody?
Damn right again Chief.
As luck would have it, my day job has a healthy tool crib with some stuff I can sweet-talk my way into borrowing once in a while.
Heck Yeah
Oh, I got a bigger hammer alright. An electric jack-jammer does not mess around. There's none of that cute, little tinkling of a hammer drill with a wee chisel bit. This brute simply devours concrete. It just chews through it. I demolished the corner of the patio in about five minutes.
The brute (and a jackhammer too)
It's an easy tool to use, pull the trigger and it goes to work, while you steady it. The only part requiring a grunt and some muscle is pulling it up out of the rubble and repositioning. I’d kind of brace it on my upper leg to assist in shifting it around.
May I have this dance?
I love this tool, but it’s another one I’d never spend the money on for my homeowner DIY projects. Check it out, on Amazon if you want to park one in your garage: Bosch 120-Volt 1-1/8 Brute Breaker Hammer BH2760VCB; it even comes with a cart to haul it around on, but $1500 isn’t exactly “fun tool” money.
The rubble breaks easily, but it gets locked together like a puzzle at times. I’d take a scrape at it with the backside of my beloved FatMax FUBAR to pop it free and go back to punching holes with the jack-hammer.
A little hands and knees work and I cleared the devastation up enough to scoop the little stuff up with a shovel.
I’m calling this one a success. A future patio deck should overhang this nicely. I just have to burrow underneath like a tunnel rat to get the full 31” x 31” size hole.
The other side was an easier cleanup since I’d clipped the whole corner off. I lugged the bits into the wheelbarrow with a bucket.
It’s almost like it’s always been like that. To get the full width when digging the hole, I’d have to take that old wooden column down.
Naturally, in one of those cases of confidence in muscle memory and sheer grit, I decided to extricate the pole with a flying side-kick. My Black-Belt is folded neatly in a box of keepsakes in the garage, just in case I want to get back into martial arts. I’d blast that sucker off at the base and knock it back into the yard at least 15 feet.
Not to brag, but I launched through the air like an eagle and slammed into that post like a runaway train burning jet fuel, in my mind.
In reality, however, I lumbered across the ground like a blind ox, a horribly out-of-shape, 50-year-old man, and barely got a foot off the ground following a painful twinge in my launching leg. My overweight carcass did manage to make contact with the post, in the poorest form possible, leg bent and crumpling against it before dropping to the ground like a sack of cement. That rotten, termite-damaged pole stood there at a 45-degree angle learning at me, judging me. Smirking bastard.
It ain’t Chuck Norris
With that I pushed the pole over, cleaned up and called it a day. Next time, I’m going subterranean. I’ll get these holes dug and see what is to be done about concrete. Summer temperatures are looming; I have got to get moving!
Where’s that smirk now? You stupid jerk.