Archeology is alluring for its multiplicity of mysteries. A “dig” can expose curious physical realities that can be hard to decipher and are apt to call forth the question, “What were they thinking?!” The evidence of past activities on the land, especially those of people whose work is similar in nature to your own, is right there in front of you when brought to light by the prying teeth of an excavator bucket. In the case of a 60 year-old drystone retaining wall, discovering the reasons for its ultimate failure could be valuable for planning and building its replacement. 

A new client had a thorny issue in the form of a failing structure in a problematic location on their property. The home, a mid-century modern perched on a small plateau on the western flank of Mt. Peg in Woodstock, Vermont relied on a stone wall to retain a yard and garden. Without it, stepping out the front door would have put the homeowner back in time to when the site was a launch pad for the community toboggan run. 

It was determined that the deteriorating wall should be dismantled and its stone reused to construct another on the origin footprint. There were some oddities to the old wall. Heavy reinforcing rods poked out of a burst section. Unlike most of the construction, the 11 foot high, 112 degree-angle corner, was mortared stonework. There, erosion of the slope below had exposed a concrete foundation. Was the corner a repair done at some point in the wall’s history, or, did the original design call for a mortared wall but something happened during the construction that switched the process to dry-built? As the old wall was pulled apart, additional questions arose.

What we’d thought to be an ill advised attempt to stem the tide of deterioration with a patch-up of steel reinforcing turned out to be just a peek into the webwork we’d find throughout the entire wall. And the glimpse of concrete was just a hint of the 2 foot thick foundation that ran the whole length of the wall. A scenario began to take shape in my mind of a troubled project. Was it a misunderstanding between the architect and client? Or maybe a disagreement between the masonry contractor and the architect? We’ll never know, but it seems clear enough that it was dry stone wallers who came to the rescue. They brought their work off the concrete and wove the stones in and around the steel. Why they didn’t just cut all the steel out before starting probably had to do more with site politics than a rational approach to field conditions because in the end the spider web of rods forced the wallers into doing a lot of veneering, which ultimately weakened the structure. 

I could almost hear the ghostly wallers grousing to themselves about having to build scupper holes into a porous drystone construction. Nonetheless, in the interest of historical accuracy, we duplicated the six, original, lintled, drains in the new wall. Years from now, someone will cock their head, cast a critical eye on them and wonder, “What were they thinking?!”

The entire enterprise was the result of many willing hands, from excavation to topping out the new wall. Many thanks are in order for the dedication and hard work of Jared Flynn, Brian Post, Jamie Masefield, Torben Larsen and Rob, and the team from A.S. Clark and Sons. Thanks also to Isaac at Vermont Tree Company and to stone suppliers A.S. Clark, St. Pierre and Quimby Mountain Stone. A special thanks to the Munick family for their trust in the process and steady support throughout.