Lou Maxon

The bathroom in Riley's Cove. Photo by Tim Bies, Olson Kundig Architects.

The exterior of Riley's Cove, built by Tanner Construction.

A Rolling Hut. Photo by Tim Bies, Olson Kundig Architects.

Delta Shelter, designed by Tom Kundig. Photo by Tim Bies, Olson Kundig Architects.

Tim Tanner (left) and Brad Burgess review site drawings with architect Edward LaLonde and owner Lou Maxon.

Some initial sketches, to develop the idea.

The idea develops further...

The finished print measures approximately 5 x 5 feet.

Our family trekked out to Mazama, Washington, to stay nights at the Rolling Huts and meet and talk to the owner of the huts and Delta Shelter ahead of our decision. Here's a view of the Rolling Huts, built by Tanner Construction and one of Tom Kundig's most celebrated projects. Photo by Tim Bies.

The kitchen inside the Riley's Cove project. We liked the stainless steel countertops and it was extremely helpful to talk to the owner about how they were holding up to the everyday wear and tear of family life. Photo by Tim Bies. Don't miss a word of Dwell! Download our FREE app from iTunes, friend us on Facebook, or follow us on Twitter!

A peek inside Riley's cove, a mid-century remodel by Olson Kundig and Tanner Construction. We visited this project while it was under construction to check out the materials and to compare and contrast the options we'd selected for Maxon House. To be able to tour a live project and talk to actual homeowners about how they collaborated with Tanner Construction helped us make our final selection. Photo by Tim Bies.

Delta Shelter by Tom Kundig, in collaboration with Phil Turner of Turner Exhibits. The shutters move on a track to open and close depending on whether the owner wants a view or privacy. Photo by Tim Bies.

Inside a Rolling Hut by Tom Kundig of Olson Kundig Architects, a metal fireplace keeps the compact interior of the chalet cozy.

A peek inside a Rolling Hut. Photo by Tim Bies.

A digital photo we snapped on a recent trek out to the rolling huts. We've visited multiple times and it has become a treat for the kids to visit "the huts".

Delta Shelter, a cabin getaway on the same property as the Rolling Huts. We visited the owner and his wife during one of our visits to get an in-person reference for Tanner Construction. It was wonderful to see the house in person after drooling over it in the pages of Tom Kundig: Houses. Photo by Tim Bies.

"The Herd" as they are often referred to, sit out in the open in breathtaking scenery. Tanner Construction collaborated with Tom Kundig on the project for the same client who commissioned Delta Shelter. As the story goes, the rolling huts were zoned for an RV park so Kundig put them on steel wheels to swerve around the local building code. Photo by Tim Bies.

Tanner Construction got rave reviews from all their references. We were impressed by their budget discussions and their commitment to keeping numbers in view during the entire process. My wife liked that were direct and talked to us without 'contractor speak.' They were a small and dedicated team that lacked the expensive overhead (offices, matching trucks) of large, more corporate contractor companies. Ultimately, we liked working with Tim Tanner and Brad Burgess, our two contacts. There were no middle men, nobody we had to talk to to get to Tim and Brad. We loved the fact that they were extremely hard workers, flew somewhat under the radar, and let their work speak for itself. Our project was a priority for Tanner and they treated it accordingly. Photo by Tim Bies.

I gathered that the couple we bought the property from did a little Edward Scissorhands job on the very narrow sliver of a view. Seeing the forest through the trees became a mantra for us as we engaged with county foresters and embraced forest practices.

At no time during our site search was our priority finding a multi-acre forested site—but as anybody looking for a new home knows, sometimes you go in looking for one thing and come out with something completely different. Early in the site selection we visited the parcel many times. As many times as we could, we brought the whole family. We’d bring colored vinyl tape and start to block out areas where we thought the house could potentially go.

Slowly the site revealed its potential. The sliver view transformed into a slice. Then evolved into an entire window. Like standing on someone else’s shoulders to see further, the progression of small changes and our thinning efforts revealed a new vista: A red farmhouse. A winding river. Layers and textures of rural country side.

First steps: Moving timber, making roads, clearing and thinning dense forest. It proves to be an ongoing logistical challenge—such as who to call to ship timber, who to manage the thinning and cutting, etc. And for Jack, our middle son, the big question is: how to leverage native materials from the site into a fort.

As the site started to develop, wonderful opportunities came along to leverage some of the cut timber. A friend, Terry Doyle, who I actually met through the Facebook page I had started for the project came out one Saturday and took some remnant timber and made us a small salad bowl from part of a cherry tree stump.

To practice living with the site, we made an effort to visit it at all different times of day and during different seasons. We picked up two recyclable plastic chairs, made a coffee table out of a cut stump, and would read the paper and have a beer or a Mountain Dew while taking in the view. One of the most important things I learned along the way was that, when it came to getting to know the site and accepting it as a character in this story, I had to embrace the snails pace of everything. There was no instant gratification.

I also learned that you can’t just wipe down a site. Sites are messy and complex organic things. As I began to imagine the house's location on the site, I began to get my hands dirty during each visit. I brought along a shovel and marking tape, to start visualizing forms and shapes. Even though I didn't know anything about required setbacks, slope requirements or anything geotechnical, getting a shovel in the ground felt productive. The site would later be professionally surveyed (notice the silver tags on the trees). Before much of the initial building site was prepped, I remember thinking how flat it all seemed—but upon reviewing the actual survey and contours, I realized we were actually dealing with some challenging slope issues.

The existing mounds of dirt, mountains of fallen or cut trees, and the odd stake made for a natural opportunity to play. Here, Charlie runs his toy motorcycle over the freshly cut end of a marking stake.

Well before we signed on to write this blog for Dwell we started documenting this project for our own personal story, taking digital photos and iPhone snaps. The early and very raw frames helped to begin create a visual road map for the site. What would the experience be driving down the road to the potential building site? What would the entrance look and feel like? I called on my own background creating brand experiences for clients and tried to connect that to the challenges I started to see with our new project.

I’d estimate that the site was walked, staked and mapped out at least a hundred times before we even hired the architect. We had lots of questions and lots of time to experiment with marking tape from our local hardware store.

We were really inspired by nature. We’d be on the site and see deer, bugs, even bears. We used survey information to learn about the different species of trees. We'd stop to listen to the rain ricocheting off a leaf. We soaked up the color palette of our surroundings, with the intention of bringing that same feeling into the home we were going to create.

The site afforded the opportunity to not only learn about responsible thinning and clearing but also to have a FSC audit to get the entire site Forest Stewardship Council certified.

The original access to the site consisted of an existing logging road. The road would eventually require widening to meet requirements. Orange tags wrapped trees that would need to be thinned per our Forest Management Plan.

This is the end of the logging road. The different colored marking tapes designate areas to be thinned, timber boundaries, property markers, etc.