You always remember your first.
Whether it's from the vantage point of your second, six-bedroom house or your final downsized condo, nothing equals the thrill of being a first-time homeowner. Now imagine owning a company that's just completed building its first house — one that's perfectly sited on a challenging lot, of high quality and bristling with enough smart features to suggest big things to come.
Chris and Trevor Trainor — Ojibwa brothers who often finish each other's sentences — don't have to imagine: They're currently putting the finishing touches on their first in Grand Bend, Ont., on Lake Huron.
"What am I, the COO?" asks Trevor, 34, as he inspects the dried paint on his hands. Chris, 36, nods, adding that he's the CFO. Neither is sure whom to crown CEO of SmartCraft Homes.
Chris and Trevor Trainor outside the Grand Bend home they’ve just completed. The brothers are fans of the modestly sized homes popularized by author Sarah Susanka in her Not So Big House series of books. (DAVE LEBLANC)
Related Articles
"We kind of left that out," jokes Chris, who often uses the term "bootstrapping" (starting and growing a business with almost no money) when describing the new two-person startup.
SmartCraft did get financial help after Aboriginal Business Canada put the brothers — members of the Thessalon First Nation — in touch with Tecumseh Community Development Corp. in Muncey, Ont., which in turn helped them secure a construction mortgage. But their personal savings and homes are tied up in the new venture, meaning there's plenty of bootstrapping going on.
"We're gambling on ourselves," confirms Chris, "and we're bursting with ideas."
Proof of those ideas is the house: a handsome and masculine, 2,000-square-foot, craftsman-style dwelling steps from the lake, and it's currently for sale at $449,900. It was built on weekends and holidays by Trevor and a few local helpers. (He lives nearby, and commutes to his job at General Motors in Detroit.) And Chris pitched in when he could get away from his teaching job in Orillia.
Their first effort is actually a little larger than what they'd like to do in the future. Fans of Sarah Susanka's bestseller The Not So Big House (Taunton Press, 2001) and the Cottage Company, a Seattle-based builder of "pocket neighbourhoods" (800- to 1,000-square-foot loft bungalows arranged around a common courtyard), they'd like to try their hand at similar projects once they've sold this one.
"I see a retired couple ...," starts Trevor, speculating about the buyer.
"... out of Mississauga, Brampton, Toronto, London," Chris finishes. "They've sold their home and they want to retire somewhere. They've got grandkids, so they've got the loft space [for them], they've got the main-floor suite [for themselves]."
"Ironically, most of the action we've gotten so far has been from groups of people that have children," Trevor says.
Whoever buys it, they'll enjoy details that look and feel as if they were created by a company that's been building homes for decades. In a way that's true, since Trevor has always been good with wood. Growing up in Sault Ste. Marie, the brothers helped their police officer father run a freelance cabinet-making business and, more recently, Trevor built his current home from a kit. "That was kind of a test to see if it was something I'd be interested in doing," he explains.
Chris, on the other hand, is currently enrolled in the gruelling Queen's University MBA program (working on it in Toronto), which he hopes will enable him to run the company — which he describes as "the ultimate case study" — as efficiently as possible.
The house, too, will run as efficiently as possible, since many low-maintenance and energy-saving features have been incorporated in it. The exterior grey vinyl board-and-batten "just needs a power-wash" once in a while, and the 820 square feet of outdoor decking is of untreated cedar, which, since it's protected by generous overhangs, will require only a light sanding every half-dozen years to bring the colour back, Trevor says.
Walls are fabricated from structural insulated panels (SIPs), which have an R-value of 28 or higher (as opposed to insulated stick-frame construction, which has a value of approximately R-13), as well as low-E, argon-gas-filled windows.
Better still is how the house communes with nature. A generous, fully screened outdoor room (the bottom of the floor is screened as well so bugs don't get in) can be reached from both the dining area and the master bedroom. Dozens of windows let light spill into every corner, including the unfinished, walk-out basement. And beefy cedar beams that frame openings and the two-storey stone fireplace bring nature inside.
"We've always loved the outdoors but we didn't really think, 'Oh, we love the outdoors because we're native,' " Chris says.
After their next project, which may be another one-off or a multiunit development based on the Seattle company's model, they'd like to start building homes on First Nation reserves, and they've already had preliminary discussions with the Rama First Nation near Orillia.
"They're big on energy efficiency; that's kind of the push right now in that market and we've got that down pat," Chris boasts. "Now it's time to go to the next level and start building homes that are aesthetically pleasing ..."
"... with some style," says Trevor, cutting him off, "that people are proud to live in."
They're so serious about SmartCraft's future, Chris is giving up his teaching job in Orillia and Trevor is giving up his gig at GM, where — with a masters degree in biokinetics from the University of Guelph — he specializes in assembly line ergonomics.
But, first things first — they've got to sell this one.
For more information, visit www.smartcrafthomes.com
Dave LeBlanc hosts The Architourist on CFRB Wednesdays during Toronto at Noon and Sunday mornings. Send inquiries to dave.leblanc@globeandmail.com.
