Not every floor problem is dramatic damage. A lot of what we get called about in Seattle is the small stuff that bothers you every day — and most of it is fixable in a single visit.
Gaps between boards
Old fir and oak shrink through our dry months and swell again when the rain returns. Hairline seasonal gaps are normal and shouldn't be filled at their widest. Gaps that stay open all year — or that will swallow a coin — get filled, or shimmed with matching wood strips so the fix reads as floor rather than caulk.
Transitions & thresholds
Doorway strips that have lifted, cracked, or never matched, plus the joints where hardwood meets tile, carpet, or LVP. We replace or re-cut the transition so it sits flat, holds the plank edges down, and stops the stubbed toes.
Worn edges & stair nosings
Stair nosings sanded thin by years of traffic, chewed baseboard edges, and radiator or register cut-outs that were never finished properly. Small areas — but they're the ones you look at every day.
The board inside the front door
In a city with eight wet months, the entry takes the worst of it. That first board is usually darker, rougher, and more scratched than anything else in the house, and swapping it is one of the highest-impact repairs we do.
Seattle's housing stock is unusually old for the West Coast, and that shapes almost every repair call we take. Ballard, Wallingford, Green Lake, Beacon Hill and the north slope of Queen Anne are full of Craftsman bungalows and 1920s–40s boxes built over vertical-grain old-growth Douglas fir, with narrow 2¼-inch red oak turning up in the later ones. Fir is beautiful and effectively irreplaceable — it's also softer than oak, so it dents under furniture legs and dog nails, and the boards are often already thin from a sanding somebody did decades ago. That combination is why so many Seattle repairs come down to replacing a handful of boards rather than sanding the whole floor: there frequently isn't enough wood left to sand the damage away.
The second pattern is water, and Seattle delivers it two ways. There's the slow kind — a dishwasher or fridge line weeping into a galley kitchen floor, an old radiator or a bathroom supply line in a pre-war house, a basement or daylight-basement room in Fremont or West Seattle where moisture works its way up from below. Then there's the everyday kind: eight months of wet shoes through the same door, which is why the boards just inside a Seattle entry are almost always the worst boards in the house. We take a moisture reading underneath before quoting anything, because covering wood that's still damp is how a repair fails the following winter.
Then there's the newer half of the city. Townhomes and condos through Ballard, Capitol Hill, Columbia City and South Lake Union are typically engineered hardwood or LVP over concrete or gypcrete. Those floors don't rot, but they lift, gap at the seams, and telegraph every flat spot in the slab — particularly along south-facing glass and above heat runs, where planks expand and then don't quite go back. Engineered wear layers are thin enough that sanding usually isn't an option, so the fix is nearly always plank replacement, which means matching a manufactured product rather than a species. In a stack of units, building access, elevator rules and HOA noise windows matter as much as the floor itself, and we plan around them.
Practically, our Seattle work splits three ways: board-by-board fir and oak replacement in the older neighbourhoods (often with salvaged stock, because new fir doesn't match century-old grain), pet and water stain removal in family homes and rentals, and plank swaps in newer engineered and LVP floors. Add the sun-faded strip under a big west-facing window in a Magnolia or West Seattle view home, and gouged entries citywide, and that's most of what we repair between the Ship Canal and the city line.