High As A Kite. And Not Happy About It.
Cody does not have hot water.
Because the hot water heater, which works, is not yet vented.
It was vented to the original brick chimney but this is a very bad way to vent a hot water heater. The off-gassing from the heater can migrate through old mortar and kill people.
And I had zero doubt that I had old, crumbly mortar.
A solution is to insert a new metal vent inside the chimney flue. But…
…this is the chimney flue in question. There is no way to insert a metal flue into a brick Z-shaped flue. The solution? Take down the chimney to just below the kitchen ceiling. My eagerness to do this? Very, very low. Actually, nonexistent.
In this 2014 image, the soon-to-be decapitated chimney is to the left. The chimney to the right stays. The left chimney looks innocent enough, as its Z-shape is entirely hidden. It is about 5-feet above the upper eave. Below the eave, it hugs the exterior of the sunporch. Then it vanishes into the kitchen attic where it does its wily contortion act.
While standing on a ladder looking at the kitchen roof I thought: How in the world am I gonna climb onto a roof with a 45-degree angle? My mind was a blank. My fear levels were off-the-scale.
And even if I could scale the lower roof to reach the chimney, how could I get up the main roof to take the chimney down?
My mind: RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! DO NOT EVEN ATTEMPT THIS INSANITY!
Did I listen to all these perfectly reasonable concerns?
You know the answer.
Sigh.
While staring at the kitchen roof I suddenly thought: What if I placed a 2×12 atop the roof with a kinda ‘clip’ at the gable end to keep the board from sliding down? Then I could screw on short bits of 2x4s to the 2×12, acting as toe holds.
My terrified mind very grudgingly responded that this might maybe possibly could work, perhaps. And, soon, this ‘ladder’ was in place. It worked. I was now effortlessly and safely atop the ridge of the kitchen roof, directly adjacent to the chimney. My scared mind roared back to life.
HOW IN THE HELL ARE YOU GONNA GET ONTO THE MAIN ROOF WITHOUT KILLING YOURSELF? AND, SERIOUSLY, HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA KNOCK DOWN THAT TOWERING CHIMNEY WITHOUT YOU, TOO, CRASHING TO THE GROUND WITH IT?
These were all most excellent questions. Which I was not, at present, able to answer.
(Warning: Too-Much-Information follows.)
While I continued to stare at the towering chimney before me, and while I tried to process exactly HOW I could reach it, and while I tried to process, yeah, how the fuck could I take it down without killing myself, my penis inverted.
(End of Too-Much-Information alert.)
Sorry. I can think of no other way to describe my feelings. That is just how I felt.
I thought of various solutions and attempted several times to just scale the short distance between my comfortable standing position and the terrifyingly uncomfortable…and unsafe…maneuvering to get onto the main roof and to the other side of the chimney. All the while carrying a hammer in one hand.
STOP! JUST STOP NOW! GO TO THE NEAREST BAR AND GET DRUNK!
And then it hit me. A solution, elegant in its ease of installation.
Adjacent to my feet was one remaining short length of 2×4. I could screw it to the edge of the upper roof, and this would offer the all-important toe hold.
WHAT? ARE YOU…………oh. That might work.
Moment later, I was on the main roof, to the other side of the chimney. My head was just slightly above its concrete cap. I also had carried a rope up with me and, so, tied myself to the chimney.
(Warning: Too-Much-Information soon follows.)
While I knew, intellectually, that I was reasonably safe, emotionally I was friggin’ terrified. And at this point my penis had not just inverted but had left the building.
(End of Too-Much-Information alert.)
There I stood. Hammer in hand. Tied to a chimney which I wholly distrusted. For, what if it just collapsed suddenly? It would take me down with it. I then thought: I used to live in NYC. I had a glamorous life. I dressed in Armani and drove a Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow (black over regal red, thank you). HOW had my life come to this? HOW????????
Then I shrugged, pulled the mortar chisel from my pocket, raised the hammer, and…
My view, to the north. The chimney in the foreground is NOT the Z-shaped chimney.
West.
The top of the Z-chimney. Looks pretty solid, right? I knew it was not. The visible mortar is pure evil, a hard Portland cement about a 1/2-inch thick over the original, crumbling, lime-based mortar. I knew the bricks would easily pull away by hand but the cement cap stone proved hard to dislodge. It is a good thing that my penis had run away for, if not, I would have pissed my pants during this process.
My Kate Winslet moment.
And…drum roll, please…NO MORE UPPER CHIMNEY! Once the cap had been broken into manageable bits, the bricks under proved as expected: They came off easily. I flung each to the east where they crashed to the concrete parking space. My neighbor to the south soon came out and moved her car. I yelled out: “It’s OK! I only hit your car with three bricks! Just three!” She had the good grace to laugh.
And now, just below the upper eave. This had seemed an impossibility less than a hour previous.
Now down to just above the kitchen roof. The chimney was adjacent to the diamond-paned window. Tomorrow I will get into the attic of the kitchen and remove the bricks. Then into the kitchen to remove the bit of remaining angle. THEN a new metal flue can be installed straight up through the kitchen roof.
The remains of the chimney.
All this aged me several years.
Although only a few hours had passed, the emotional impact was overwhelming. I drove home, went straight to bed, slept for two blessed hours, and am now having some good wine. I plan to have some more.
I used to live in NYC. I had a glamorous life. I dressed in Armani and drove a Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow (black over regal red, thank you). HOW had my life come to this? HOW????????
(Note: I am happier now.)
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Can’t wait to read a post where you say “…and I used the bricks from the kitchen chimney I dismantled….”
Yeah, heights are scary. I don’t do them any more.
Also scary, when you’re taking something apart and it comes apart way too easy.
Broken bricks are good to add to garden soil to facilitate drainage or also as mulch under bushes or perennials.
Ross, each time you find a solution to your challenges and each time you face your fear (of heights) directly, you appear like Jason Momoa’s Aquaman (hammer, in lieu of a trident). You are a god!
That view to the north is purely majestic! The Cross House looks good from any angle.
I’ve got to know, as a classic car enthusiast…what year rolls, and how did it drive? I had a chance to pick up a mid-70s Silver Shadow, but passed (too much differed maintenance, and ugly safety bumpers mucking up the classic lines).
OMG Ross! Your penis may have left the building, but your cajones are still very much intact. Job well done!
😂🤣😂“The many lives of Ross MacTaggart”🤣😂🤣
Or there’s always the electric water heater route.
Oooh, that’s nice & terrifying. 😏 Sans penis, I’m well acquainted with the “pucker factor”. A couple of my sphincters clenched up, just thinking about trying to hang on, while bashing away at those bricks! 😄
One less chimney to mess with & a sleek metal pipe will simplify & clean up the roof(s). Glad the more precarious part of the process is done. 🍷
That’s an awkward diagonal – wonder why they didn’t just take it straight up?
The chimney has to end at least 2 feet above the roof line in order to draw. If it went straight up there would be a gap between where it comes out the kitchen roof and the side of next floor. My guess is they angled it to keep it against the outside wall of the second story for both aesthetics and mechanicals.
You are the man! So brave! 🙂
You may have saved a few lives, including mine. The furnace and hot water heater if our 5-story 5-family, 120 year old converted brownstone building are vented through a brick chimney with crumbly mortar. No zigs or zags, luckily. I think it’s eay overdue for a metal or a terra cotta liner.
YIKES!
You had a glamorous life, Ross, with Armani and a Rolls-Royce. And yet, despite terrifying heights and crumbling chimneys, I can’t help but think you’re right where you’re supposed to be—and deep down, you probably wouldn’t have it any other way. Keep up the good work!
😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😆😆😆😆😆😆😆😆😆😆😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😯😯😯😯😯😯😯😆😆😆😆😆😆😆👌👌👌👌👍👍👍👍👍👍👍
I’m happy to made it out of your latest adventure with all your parts intact. Yikes!
So happy you survived unscathed from this escapade and accomplished what you needed to do! Whew!
BTW love the mustache and stylish beard! Very handsome!
You go Ross! You are amazing, and I am truly glad you are happier now, but I would love to have seen that black over red Rolls Royce!
Congrats on your beating that chimney into submission! Brilliant!
Since the building has been moved, the chimney can’t be original, so it’s good to remove it. Although they are expensive, a power vented water heater, requires no chimney. Many years ago, I put one in my old house so I could open up and use an original fireplace.
Voila, no need for a chimney.
I’m surprised there was no other solution than this. Flexible flue liners are the norm in the UK. https://www.machinemart.co.uk/p/5-flexiwall-flexible-flue-liner-per-metre/
Hi, Jordan!
The issue with the chimney involved more than just how to vent the water heater.
I plan to redo the roof and the chimney pierced the roof in two places. I prefer my roofs to have as few punctures as possible!
Even more importantly, the mortar was crumbling, and the chimney was leaning. At some point, in a very strong wind, it would have come crashing down.
I had long planned to remove it. The water heater issue just forced it being now.
No joke a belly laughed very loud after reading “my penis inverted” ….
Man. Haven’t laughed that hard in a long time! *wiping tears from eyes*
Thanks for the laugh.