When you are making the walls you sure don’t want to forget to make holes for the electrical lines and phone lines and such. If you skip this part, then you will be doing it with metal conduit on the inside where it won’t look so lovely. Codes (depends on your area of the world) won’t allow you to simply put a cover board over it. The code wants you to either seriously protect the powered lines or leave them exposed so that there is no reason to chop into them accidentally.
I made a master plan for where I wanted each of these lines to be and determined how many logs high they had to travel up from the basement. Oh, yah…you have to start with the first row, because the hole has to go through the subfloor. Each row that you put on needs to add to the length of that hole. Now imagine trying to line up with the hole underneath that is no longer visible. I don’t know why we didn’t put a mark on each log where these holes were so that it would be obvious the next round. I think we didn’t want to have to try to remove the mark afterwards. We went by the measurement from the corners (and my hair was always on end for fear I was sooner or late going to make an error in judgement).
Hubby soon had to climb a ladder with this long dagger of a drill (it had to reach through at least two 8″/18 cm. logs) and balance himself on a 10″/23 cm. surface that eventually became up to 12 feet or more off of the ground.
My job was to guide him from his front, at a 90 degree angle, to be sure he was keeping the drill straight up and down. There would be a burst of grinding and machine noise from the drilling. Then I would be yelling at the top of my vocal capacity “Left, left”. That was topped by him yelling louder yet that he couldn’t hear a word I was saying. So…I pointed this way or that…either slowly or frantically depending on how far off he was already getting. All was well that ended well. If his cut met the hole below all was well. If it didn’t……there was more noise…some of it human. It had to be dealt with – we couldn’t stop now…or could we? Once in a while he quit. Once in a while I thought my little cabin would do just fine for the rest of forever too.
Building your own home is supposed to be the ultimate test of a marriage. My advice: Why go there if you don’t have to?