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Points of view

As Box House begins to frame scenery, unconventional choices prove puzzling

Published November 19, 2005 at midnight

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The master bedroom of Tina and Christopher Herr's unfinished house provides a quiet place away from the noise of construction for Tina to nurse their daughter, Talia. The windows, which stretch from the floor nearly to the ceiling, offer a stunning view of the southeast.

The master bedroom of Tina and Christopher Herr's unfinished house provides a quiet place away from the noise of construction for Tina to nurse their daughter, Talia. The windows, which stretch from the floor nearly to the ceiling, offer a stunning view of the southeast.

The bridge will stretch from the master bedroom to the master bath. Christopher Herr and his wife, Tina Galgon-Herr, will get a wee bit of exercise each morning as they pad barefoot across the 14 feet from the bed to the vanity, shower, powder room and walk-in closet.

Along the way, they'll be able to turn one way to take in stunning views of the Boulder foothills, just beyond the sliding-glass doors that open to a rooftop patio. Turn the other way, and they'll look down onto their great room and kitchen on the first floor below.

"Christopher and I talked about not having stuff in our bedroom," Tina says. "No dressers, no tchotchkes. It's just about sex, sleeping and reading. It's ritualistic - we'll cross over the bridge into our sanctuary."

Early in 2005, Christopher is spending weekends assembling the bridge. Builder James Casanova and his crew are handling the majority of work on the custom home, but it's important to Christopher that he invest some sweat equity in the dwelling that he designed with business partner Brad Tomecek.

"Lumber is usually concealed in a home, but we're using it as a finished application," Christopher says. "The bridge is pieces of lumber next to each other, but spaced out a little, and thread rods will tie it together."

It will be an uncommon architectural element in a home defying many conventions. Most obvious of all is the roof; on each staggered level of this home - which Christopher and Brad have named the Box House - the roof is flat.

The exterior of the home resembles two shoeboxes, one stacked crosswise on top of the other, with both backing into the slope of the hill. The studio and garage, both detached from the main house and overlapping, also resemble rectangular boxes.

Christopher admits that the choice of flat roof might puzzle some, especially considering that the house is being built in the Colorado foothills, where steep-sloping gables are the conventional choice for providing shade and optimal runoff of snowfall.

"A lot of people have reservations about flat roofs," says Christopher, visiting the house on a cold January morning. "I think there is way more flat roofing in this country than gabled, if you look at all the warehouses and industrial buildings around. And flat is a misnomer - they've all got some slope."

He looks down at the ground and shakes his head. "I'm just not nervous about flat roofs."

'A construction nemesis'

James, on the other hand, has reservations.

"Flat roofs are great from an architectural standpoint," he says, "but they're a construction nemesis. Ice is the killer, because basically the top of the building becomes a swimming pool."

James also is not sold on the roof-coating system Christopher and Brad have chosen. After considering a method that uses a rubber membrane for all of the roof, they chose to use it only on the two rooftop decks - one over the garage, one over the great room. For the rest of the roof, they went with a spray-foam application. It'll cost about $14,000 - nearly half of what an all-rubber-topped roof would cost - and can be installed more quickly.

The trouble is the weather.

"The roof has been a bit of a challenge," James says. "We were told we needed the temperature to be at least 40 degrees to apply the foam, then we were told at least 70 degrees."

In hopes of getting around Old Man Winter, James had a tent installed over the roof, then planned to use a portable furnace to blow hot air over the surface. Old Man Winter had other ideas. Over the weekend, 90-mph winds ripped down the tent.

"I haven't actually worked with this roofing treatment before," James says. "I'm skeptical. If the building shifts, it can lead to cracking."

"It's a calculated risk," Christopher admits. "I have an architect friend who used the system on his roof when it was built two years ago."

A break in the weather

At the end of February, on a chilly but sunny morning, the weather is at last mild enough to attempt the application of the roof coating.

"I've been trying to hold off on this as long as I could," says Roger Kemper of Counce Kemper in Mead. "I've probably been the least popular subcontractor on this project.

"But our season usually runs March through November. When construction of the exterior was delayed, it wasn't ready for us till December, and that wasn't feasible. We originally thought we'd be doing this around October."

Kemper's company has applied the spray-foam roofing for 25 years, mostly on commercial projects. It's only used on 1 in 10 roofs, though it's fairly common in Arizona and California. He'd rather wait for a 60-degree day, but the low 50s will have to do. James can't stomach another delay.

With a hose slung over his right shoulder, and the spray nozzle in his left hand, Billy Rice begins applying the spray polyurethane foam, which shoots out in liquid form but puffs up and dries on contact with the roof. The bedroom slippers he wears are quickly coated in the buttered-popcorn-looking stuff.

"Foam is an excellent energy insulation," Kemper says, "and a good sealant."

Not to mention cutting-edge footwear decoration.

Concrete floors await staining

Underneath the roof that's donning its rain jacket, a plumber is busy drilling in the master bath. An electrician is hard at work, as are James and his crew of two. Christopher and Brad arrive early in the afternoon, eager to get a first look at samples of concrete stain. Christopher and Tina have decided against wood floors to save some money.

"Typically, staining concrete is labor-intensive and challenging. Plus it's smelly and messy," Christopher says. But colleagues whom Christopher and Brad worked with on a project in Silverthorne steered them to Kemiko, a maker of concrete stains that are less expensive and easier to use than most others.

"It would be about $500 to stain the studio, the main floors and the master bath," Christopher says. "It'd be sharp to have those not just be gray concrete."

Tina arrives with daughter Talia in tow. The 11-week-old sports a "Diapered and Dangerous" T-shirt.

"Is this gonna be toxic to my baby?" Tina asks Alicia Ader-Moore, a Kemiko representative who's here to apply color samples to a nook in the utility room.

"No," she replies, "but you don't want children or animals around while you're applying the stain to the entire floor."

Tina and Christopher like the blend of two colors, cola and black.

"We're thinking of applying it ourselves," Christopher says to Alicia.

"We are?" Tina says, chuckling and directing a wide-eyed look at him.

"Tina thinks I'm taking on way too much with the house," he says. Besides the bridge, he plans to install tile on interior walls in the bathrooms and entryway, and assemble outdoor fountains.

"I keep thinking things will change," Tina says, "but I don't know. My husband's a workaholic.

"We still have condo projects that need to be done," she adds. New baseboards and countertops at their current home are required before they're comfortable advertising it as a rental.

"I want to put it on the market next month, and we have three months till when we're supposed to be living in this house," she says. "I get so overwhelmed. I just think Christopher's crazy to be doing this (concrete staining)."

The couple chat privately for a minute. In case there's any doubt, Tina won't be helping with the staining.

"Christopher's going to round up some of our friends who think it might sound cool to stain concrete."

Tina's dose of skepticism is followed up by Brad as the three eat lunch out on the future patio.

"You have to start thinking about, what happens when the house is done?" Brad says to Christopher. "Do you maintain? Do you keep up the ultra-multitasking?"

Chewing on a sandwich, Christopher doesn't have answers today.

And there won't be much time for introspection any time soon.

Because his do-it-yourself list is about to grow much longer.

dedrickj@RockyMountainNews.com or 303-892-5484