At long last… a bathroom door.

Despite falling in love with the master bedroom as soon as she walked in the day we looked at our house, K has never been a fan of the open bathroom concept. Ever. She's been asking for a bathroom door for, well, basically ever since that day over three years ago. Finally, a couple months ago, we sat down, picked one out that we both loved, and ordered it. A week ago it showed up and I spent the following afternoon installing it.

Yep, we absolutely love it.

Backing up a bit, we always had looked at glass sliding (aka 'barn') doors. Because the bathroom is tucked back in the room without any windows (we do plan on installing a skylight above the soaking tub), we wanted to keep the light that came in through the door opening. The layout wasn't conducive to - and we didn't really want - either a hinged or a pocket door. Plus, barn doors are all the rage and definitely up the appeal of a room to buyers. 

When remodeling and updating, we're always thinking about how a buyer will see it while staying true to our style and vision. Having done that with our old 1921 Craftsman, I'm convinced that's why we had multiple offers the day it went on the market and ultimately sold it in three days. We had a vision, we kept in mind what would impress a buyer, and we always held to that.

So when we found this door on Wayfair for a fraction of the price a similar-style door was going for on other sites, we snagged one of their last remaining five in stock. Last week, on the day it was scheduled to be delivered, Sefton and I were off running errands when I got a call from the delivery crew. They didn't want to drive up the hill in the snow to our front gate so had parked themselves at the bottom next to the mailboxes. I needed to rush home to meet them, heave the one-hundred-and-ten-pound package on top of our little RAV4, and drive it the three hundred feet to our front gate.

K and I got it in the front door but had to our call our friend John over to help lift it up our staircase. He had spent his day dragging sixteen panels of sheetrock up a similar set of stairs at a house they were remodeling. He was warmed up. With it ready to go, I scanned the instructions and got to work.

The installation was straightforward. The only snag I hit was with the included screws. Since the screws didn't have a shank, two of them sheered off as I drove them into the wall studs. So I broke out some real screws to hang the brackets.

The key was getting the rail level. The ball bearings on the wheels of the hanging brackets are so smooth the door moves with the push of a finger. The process is to hang one of the end mounting brackets, then set the rail in place and level it to mark where the other end bracket goes. Of course, they have to be mounted to studs.

I had used a stud finder to locate all the potential studs. Then I took a small pilot hole bit and drilled to confirm. Once that was done and the two end brackets were placed, it was a simple matter of installing the two middle support brackets. Since they were pretty stealth, their location wasn't super critical other than to help disperse the hundred-pound weight of the door as it rolled back and forth.

Once all the brackets were hung I could hang the rail and tighten them down. All the while I had a couple of helpers.

It was also a gorgeous sunset.

Next, I installed the two hanging brackets on the glass door. All the necessary tools, including a special one to tighten the two-holed steel discs that clamped on the glass, were in the box.

Once the brackets were on, it took K and I to lift the door onto the rail. The final step was to install the sliding guide on the floor. Since it was placed on the tile, I had to use a tile bit to first drill through that before using a smaller bit into the flooring.

Installed! Yep, we absolutely love it. It doesn't affect the brightness in the bathroom during the day when it's closed. It keeps in some warmth and, well, it looks striking. Exactly what we wanted. Unfortunately, it only took over three years to get it. That was mostly my fault. Pretty much all my fault.