Now do I get the tee shirt???
The 30-NC is up and running! It's doing its thang so well that I am sitting in Maryland to get away from the heat.
I know, without pictures it didn't happen. Well, my Canon EOS Rebel is still being a brat, just sitting there saying "busy, busy, busy." Until I sit down and figure out which end is up, I'll just have to describe the setup.
The hearth is a dark greenish-brownish ceramic tile over 1 1/2" of cement board on the right, where fireplace tools and wood rack live. On the left, where the stove sits, I put a 1" air space sandwiched between sheets of steel. To make sure I had enough support for the stove, I put strips 4" wide of cement board through the air space in the places where the pedestal sits, front and back. The hearth is 5 feet deep by 6 feet wide.
I did the installation on the ceiling support box myself, but I left cutting the hole in the roof to my contractor friend Norman. We had been trying for a good weather day and it just wasn't happening, so I asked him pretty please with sugar on top to try it yesterday. He was doubtful but he granted my wish. Afterward, he kept saying how easy it all was because I had everything ready for him.
I had thought the hardest part would be getting the stove up three steps into the house, but Norman wasn't fazed at all. I had two oak planks for a ramp, which we attached to the top step with screws. Norman brought his come-along and chains, and I put a 2-by-4 across the living room doorway to provide a pulling point. What am I trying to say? A place to attach the chains... Norman worked the come-along as I guided the stove until it was 2/3 of the way up the ramp. Then he just pulled it into the house himself.
Show-off.
I looked at the bottom of the stove, didn't see exactly how to remove the pedestal, changed my mind about installing legs.
We positioned the stove, attached the stovepipe and Norman was done with his part. I applied furnace cement to the pipe where it exits the stove, because there was an air gap. I took my time putting the firebrick back in. Because it wasn't obvious at first just how it all got back in there. Hint: leave the middle row on the bottom for last.
I played with the stove yesterday so we'd be more than casual friends. BFFs, I guess... Around 11:00 last night I put 4 or 5 medium splits in N-S, gradually shut it down, and went to bed to sleep on top of the blankets. Sweating.
Man, when does this thing quit?
This morning, there was a rich bed of coals about 3" deep, stovetop was 300 and the house was toasty in the mid 70s. A couple of splits caught on, and away we go with today's fire.
Back up; I missed a part. About a week ago I attached some stovepipe and did a burn-the-paint session on the back porch. Dumb idea. The porch roof is vinyl soffit, and I left an area smudged in tan. It didn't melt or anything. A coat of paint and no one will ever know. In fact, they wouldn't notice it now unless I pointed it out. I had thought about it long and hard before I pulled this stunt.
Right now, the stove is cruising at 450* stovetop (thermometer is a couple of inches to the right of the stack; is this the right location?) and 300* on the stack. Nice coals, nice lazy flame, just a couple of splits. I'm dying of heat here.
My dining room has never been so warm. As for me, a ridiculous phrase from an old TV commercial in the 50s keeps popping into my head. It has nothing to do with stoves: "I've never been so emulsified in all my life." Anyone remember that? I think it was before the scrubbing bubbles...
Anyway, Pennsylvania Electric Co., eat yer heart out.
As I sit here admiring my handiwork, I observe that the stove is 1/4" to the right. I'll see if anyone notices. A quirk here and there never hurt anything. If it ain't broke...
Upstairs install was the best thing I could have done.
The Pleasant Hearth will stay in the basement, and I'll fire it up on sub-zero days, or when I'm leaving for a while and want my puppies to be cozy.
Oh, the install isn't 100% complete until I manage to work the gold whirligig thingie onto the end of the air control rod. That little bugger doesn't want to go on there.
Nancy
The 30-NC is up and running! It's doing its thang so well that I am sitting in Maryland to get away from the heat.
I know, without pictures it didn't happen. Well, my Canon EOS Rebel is still being a brat, just sitting there saying "busy, busy, busy." Until I sit down and figure out which end is up, I'll just have to describe the setup.
The hearth is a dark greenish-brownish ceramic tile over 1 1/2" of cement board on the right, where fireplace tools and wood rack live. On the left, where the stove sits, I put a 1" air space sandwiched between sheets of steel. To make sure I had enough support for the stove, I put strips 4" wide of cement board through the air space in the places where the pedestal sits, front and back. The hearth is 5 feet deep by 6 feet wide.
I did the installation on the ceiling support box myself, but I left cutting the hole in the roof to my contractor friend Norman. We had been trying for a good weather day and it just wasn't happening, so I asked him pretty please with sugar on top to try it yesterday. He was doubtful but he granted my wish. Afterward, he kept saying how easy it all was because I had everything ready for him.
I had thought the hardest part would be getting the stove up three steps into the house, but Norman wasn't fazed at all. I had two oak planks for a ramp, which we attached to the top step with screws. Norman brought his come-along and chains, and I put a 2-by-4 across the living room doorway to provide a pulling point. What am I trying to say? A place to attach the chains... Norman worked the come-along as I guided the stove until it was 2/3 of the way up the ramp. Then he just pulled it into the house himself.
Show-off.
I looked at the bottom of the stove, didn't see exactly how to remove the pedestal, changed my mind about installing legs.
We positioned the stove, attached the stovepipe and Norman was done with his part. I applied furnace cement to the pipe where it exits the stove, because there was an air gap. I took my time putting the firebrick back in. Because it wasn't obvious at first just how it all got back in there. Hint: leave the middle row on the bottom for last.
I played with the stove yesterday so we'd be more than casual friends. BFFs, I guess... Around 11:00 last night I put 4 or 5 medium splits in N-S, gradually shut it down, and went to bed to sleep on top of the blankets. Sweating.
Man, when does this thing quit?
This morning, there was a rich bed of coals about 3" deep, stovetop was 300 and the house was toasty in the mid 70s. A couple of splits caught on, and away we go with today's fire.
Back up; I missed a part. About a week ago I attached some stovepipe and did a burn-the-paint session on the back porch. Dumb idea. The porch roof is vinyl soffit, and I left an area smudged in tan. It didn't melt or anything. A coat of paint and no one will ever know. In fact, they wouldn't notice it now unless I pointed it out. I had thought about it long and hard before I pulled this stunt.
Right now, the stove is cruising at 450* stovetop (thermometer is a couple of inches to the right of the stack; is this the right location?) and 300* on the stack. Nice coals, nice lazy flame, just a couple of splits. I'm dying of heat here.
My dining room has never been so warm. As for me, a ridiculous phrase from an old TV commercial in the 50s keeps popping into my head. It has nothing to do with stoves: "I've never been so emulsified in all my life." Anyone remember that? I think it was before the scrubbing bubbles...
Anyway, Pennsylvania Electric Co., eat yer heart out.
As I sit here admiring my handiwork, I observe that the stove is 1/4" to the right. I'll see if anyone notices. A quirk here and there never hurt anything. If it ain't broke...
Upstairs install was the best thing I could have done.
The Pleasant Hearth will stay in the basement, and I'll fire it up on sub-zero days, or when I'm leaving for a while and want my puppies to be cozy.
Oh, the install isn't 100% complete until I manage to work the gold whirligig thingie onto the end of the air control rod. That little bugger doesn't want to go on there.
Nancy