Before you buy a single bracket, you must make peace with the ladder. That wobbly aluminum contraption is now your best friend and your worst enemy. I recommend a cold beer at the bottom rung—just for courage, you understand—while you stare up at your roofline like it’s Mount Everest. Don’t be a hero. If the thought of going up 20 feet makes your knees knock, rent a multi-purpose ladder that feels like it was welded by NASA. Your neighbors don’t need to see you doing a split between two tree branches.
You’ll also need a friend. Not a “I’ll hold the ladder” friend, but a “I’ll hand you the screws and laugh when you drop them” friend. This is a team sport, like a very moist version of basketball. My buddy Steve once held a 16-foot section of gutter while I balanced on the roof edge. He kept yelling, “You look like a flamingo with a headache!” It was unhelpful, but it kept the mood light.
The Gutter Itself: A Character with a Past
You can choose between seamless gutters (professional, expensive, boring) or sectional ones (DIY, cheap, and why your scalp is itchy from fiberglass). I went with sectional because I’m cheap and love a good puzzle. Picture connecting six-foot troughs like train cars for rain. You’ll need a power drill, tin snips, and the patience of a kindergarten teacher. Pro tip: measure twice, cut once, then curse once very loudly. My first cut was two inches too short, so my gutter looked like a kid wearing pants that don’t reach his ankles.
Hangers are the little metal tabs that attach the gutter to your fascia board. They look innocent but are secretly sadistic. You’ll screw them in every two feet, which sounds easy until you realize your ladder has shifted, and now you’re reaching like a contortionist. I ended up hanging upside down like a bat to reach one stubborn spot. My wife took a photo. She uses it as her phone wallpaper.
House Gutters And Downspouts