I’ve always wondered if anyone’s tried those interior French drains with an older stone foundation? I keep hearing mixed things, but I’m tempted… just not sure if it’s worth the mess.
- Been there, debated that. My last place had a stone foundation that looked like it was held together by hope and a few stubborn spiders. The idea of tearing up the basement for a French drain made me want to move to the desert.
- Here’s what I learned after way too many late-night Google spirals and a few “expert” opinions:
- French drains can work with stone, but it’s a gamble. Sometimes you end up chasing leaks like you’re in a whack-a-mole tournament.
- The mess is real. Picture dust, debris, and a fine layer of regret on every surface. If you’re attached to your current flooring, say your goodbyes.
- On the plus side, if your basement’s already a water feature every spring, it might be worth the chaos. I’ve seen folks swear by it—just as many curse the day they started.
- If you go for it, make sure whoever installs it actually understands old stone. Some contractors treat every foundation like it’s poured concrete, and that’s how you end up with more problems than you started with.
- Personally, I went with a combo of a beefy sump pump and a dehumidifier that sounds like a jet engine. Not glamorous, but my socks have stayed dry.
- If you’re tempted, maybe start with the least invasive fixes first. Sometimes a little grading outside or a new gutter does more than a full basement surgery.
Honestly, if you do go for the French drain, stock up on patience and maybe a few extra bottles of wine. You’ll need both.
I get the hesitation, but I’d actually push back a bit on the “French drains are always a gamble with stone” idea. If the stone foundation’s in decent shape and you use a contractor who really knows old masonry, it can be a game changer. I’ve seen it done right—drain tile, vapor barrier, and careful tuckpointing—and the basement went from swampy to bone dry. Yeah, it’s messy, but sometimes the “least invasive” fixes just don’t cut it, especially if you’re dealing with hydrostatic pressure. Not saying it’s for everyone, but I wouldn’t write it off if you’re tired of the annual puddle routine.
I hear you on the “least invasive” fixes not always doing the trick, especially with old stone. I’ve seen too many folks try patching or just painting on some sealant, and it’s a short-term win at best. If you’re dealing with real hydrostatic pressure, sometimes you just have to bite the bullet and go for the full drain system. Out of curiosity, did you have to deal with any weird foundation quirks when you did yours—like unexpected voids or crumbling mortar? That’s usually where things get interesting...
I hear you on the “least invasive” fixes not always doing the trick, especially with old stone.
I totally get what you mean about patching or sealant just being a band-aid. Had a similar situation in my old basement—tried the “quick fix” route and, yeah, it bought me maybe a season before the water found its way back in. Hydrostatic pressure is no joke.
When we finally committed to the perimeter drain, we did run into some weirdness. There was this one spot where the mortar had basically turned to sand, and when they started digging, it just kept crumbling away. Had to shore it up with hydraulic cement and some extra gravel. Not cheap, but better than watching the wall cave in.
Curious—did you have to deal with any surprises under your storm shelter? I’ve heard stories about folks finding old bottles or even animal bones tucked behind foundation stones... Ours was just spiders and a ton of dust, thankfully.
Curious—did you have to deal with any surprises under your storm shelter? I’ve heard stories about folks finding old bottles or even animal bones tucked behind foundation stones... Ours was just spiders and a ton of dust, thankfully.
You know, I was half-expecting to find some kind of time capsule or at least a rusty horseshoe when we started poking around under ours. All those stories about “buried treasures” had my hopes up, but reality was way less exciting—just a mess of crumbling mortar and what I’m pretty sure was a petrified mouse (RIP little guy). No bones or bottles, though.
Funny you mention the mortar turning to sand. We had a spot like that too, right by the old coal chute. Every time I touched it, more would just flake off in my hand. Ended up mixing up way more hydraulic cement than I thought I’d need. It’s wild how these old stone walls can look solid until you actually start working on them.
I do think the perimeter drain was worth every penny, even if it meant eating ramen for a month. At least now I can walk down there without feeling like I’m in a cave about to collapse.
