“Homes Cows Would Love to Eat” was the title of the newspaper article that changed the lives of Michael and Spring Thomas. They were both teachers at a community college in Seattle when they came across a story about the revival of the age-old practice of strawbale construction in New Mexico. While they were intrigued by what they read, they had no way of knowing it would lead them to bring strawbale building into the mainstream in Washington state and beyond.

Straw is a plentiful, renewable resource that makes an excellent, affordable building material. Walls are made of two-foot wide, 80-pound bales of straw that, once they are stuccoed, are more fire-resistant than ordinary wood-framed walls. Strawbale structures are rugged, and can withstand winds of 100 miles per hour. Houses made of straw are well-insulated, and they last. The first strawbale homes built in Nebraska in the late 1800s are still in use.

Michael and Spring began to dream of building their own house of straw. Michael remembers, “All the information on strawbale building at the time, from 1991 through 1993, was that it was being done in the drier Southwest. We thought we might move down there and build our house. We were doing research and investigating this for a couple of years before we finally heard that, in fact, this was being done in Norway. And we looked at each other and said, ‘Well, gosh, if it’s being done in Norway, why can’t we do it here?’”

They soon found that the obstacle to building strawbale houses in the Northwest had nothing to do with the weather. Local building officials on the Olympic Peninsula where they had relocated were reluctant to approve the unfamiliar building technology. Michael remembers, “They had no idea about strawbale buildings at all. They just thought it was the three little pigs’ house. Our plans were fully stamped and approved and architecturally designed – which is normally satisfactory for building officials – but they just didn’t know what to do with them.”

After five months of hearing “No,” they compiled their research on the economic and environmental advantages of strawbale construction, and founded the IronStraw Group to disseminate what they had learned. Says Spring, “As educators, we shared with people because that’s who we are.” They also hoped that having official letterhead and brochures would with help with their legitimacy in the permitting process.

Spring remembers that in 1994 when they founded the non-profit, they had never been in a strawbale building. There were no books. There were no videos. They just believed in it. It made so much sense to them. Michael says, “It was a leap of faith. Since we were educators and advocates, we didn’t want to use the experimental provision of the building codes, or do anything other than get a fully approved, permitted building.” In the fall of that year, Spring and Michael finally got their plans approved. More than 60 people came together to raise the walls of the first fully permitted, load bearing strawbale house in Washington State. But Spring and Michael were just beginning their lifework to make strawbale building a credible and more widely-used method of construction.

During its first four years, IronStraw helped in the construction of more than 25 strawbale houses in western Washington before Spring and Michael decided to move closer to the source of straw. Soon IronStraw had forged partnerships with over 50 community organizations and corporations in the eastern part of the state, and laid plans for a second demonstration strawbale house in Cashmere. This time they incorporated another goal into the project: teaching building skills to at-risk, disadvantaged rural youth. Says Spring, “These kids were a large part of the joy and trials of working on that project. But to hear an 18-year-old who initially wouldn’t answer a direct question burst out in song as he’s pounding a hammer makes all the frustration melt away.”

IronStraw has continued to integrate youth empowerment into their projects, working with social service organizations and the Yakama Nation. Michael explains, “We actively pursue these partnerships and look for how we can have youth involved in all of our projects. Our focus is community-based building. We work to empower people from community organizations during our wall raising weekends.” Some of the young people that have developed skills working on IronStraw projects have been able to leverage that experience into jobs with contractors.

The affordability of strawbale building has always been one of its stronger selling points. Michael estimates that an owner willing to put in some sweat equity, and store and reuse materials, can build for $40 per square foot, which is comparable to the cost of Habitat for Humanity housing. A conventional house built by a contractor runs more in the neighborhood of $80 per square foot.

In addition, getting rid of straw is a big challenge for wheat farmers in the region. After harvesting the grains, Washington State farmers are left with an estimated 7.5 million tons of straw in their fields, and because of the strength of the fibers, it does not readily decompose. In 1999, farmers were fined tens of thousands of dollars by the state for illegally burning straw. Thirty members of the Association of Wheat Growers toured IronStraw’s demonstration strawbale home in Cashmere, attracted by the prospect of selling building-quality bales of straw for two dollars a bale.

The Wheat Growers teamed up with IronStraw and the Washington State Office of Community Development to build housing for migrant farm laborers. A 1999 report from the Washington Governor’s office found that about 60 percent of the migrant workforce in the state lacks housing during the growing season. After a fortuitous meeting with a willing orchardist, IronStraw set to work alleviating that problem. They built three new strawbale buildings among pear and apple orchards outside of Omak.

More than 100 local youth helped raise the walls of the homes in just three weekends. Each of the six units has multiple, good-sized bedrooms and bathrooms. The thick muted copper-tinted walls and shiny new appliances compare favorably to most college dormitories, not to mention the thin shacks hidden behind orchards elsewhere that pass for housing. While the tenants will be transitory, the buildings seem likely to outlast most of the construction in the rest of the neighborhood.

Michael and Spring don’t just sling bales of straw around. “We have talked with all 39 county building officials in the state of Washington,” explains Michael, “and now every single county in the state will approve strawbale building. The building officials know we can provide plan review, and structural and construction details to make sure it’s done correctly.” Over the past five years, IronStraw has lead over 90 workshops, seminars, classes, and presentations, reaching people from as far away as Ireland, Japan and Australia. Habitat for Humanity had taken advantage of IronStraw’s educational programs, and seven chapters now use strawbales in constructing affordable housing.

According to Spring and Michael, strawbale construction is a very simple technique to learn. To date they have been involved in building upwards of 55 houses – plus a 5000-square-foot school, a greenhouse, and a library. Says Spring, “During our community-based building workshops, 25 unskilled people, who don’t know anything about strawbale building, can put up a 1200 square foot home in a weekend. People love building together. When people see how easy it is, they say, ‘I can do this, I can build my own house!’”