Porch looking naked? Add a rondack.

Viewed from a picnic bench or blanket, the Atlantic coast is pretty darn swell. But locals know that the best way to take in New England scenery is from the sunken seat of an Adirondack chair.

The problem is, those comfortably reclined wooden works of sit-able art can be pricey. And even if you nab a Adirondack deal at a naked furniture store, you still don't know where that chair's been.

It could've spent its formative years working the streets in exchange for hits of Thompson's Water Seal.

Are those growth rings or scars of a hard knocks life? Only the chair knows for sure. And it ain't talking.

The only way to trust in the purity of your Adirondack is to make it yourself. And thanks to a class offered through Portland Adult Education, you can. Pretty cheaply too.

The class costs $115 for Portlanders - and anyone who's priced an Adirondack at the store knows that's a bargain. So I signed up.

The class congregated in the woodworking shop at PATHS in Portland last Saturday for the first of the two-day course.

Teacher Tom Fournier walked us through the wood shop machines. The old standbys we recall from Junior High shop class are all still there - the drills, the hand saws and that shark of the shop: the table saw.

To begin, we took to measuring out the wood. With over 40 pieces to each chair, and with ten chairs to be made, it was a test of organization and planning (which I steered away from so as to reduce the likelihood of error).

Tom directed us to separate projects. We weren't building our own individual chairs from beginning to end. Instead, the pieces were cut Henry Ford style - an assembly line.

One person mastered the saw:

While one took over the drilling:

As the pieces took shape, then came the sanding.

And more sanding.

We worried not about so-called swine flu here. Our biggest nemesis: dust lung.

A couple hours into day two, it was time to start assembling. It was hard to tell at first which piece went where. "Craps" and "darn its" were mumbled.

But once once the fanned back was screwed into shape, it was a sprint to the Adirondack finish.

Slowly the chairs began to take shape.

Adirondacks began to rise up along the wood shop landscape.

I resisted sitting on other people's chairs while they were still working to finish them. It wasn't easy. I mean, look at that tempting piece of work.

After the hours of labor (which left my arms sore for a solid day after) it was time to bring those babies home from the nursery.

Mine found an easy landing on the once-lonely porch and made fast friends with a bottle of Geary's.

Welcome home, Adirondack. Welcome home. And sorry about the rain.

Check out the classes offered through Portland Adult Education