We’ve been all over the place lately — Clara’s room, the master bath, the kitchen and the veranda — so it’s hard to believe it’s been about a month and a half since we last mentioned our staircase. Several readers have been asking about the new stair runner we ordered, and after a delay while it was back-ordered it finally arrived. But the last remnants of the old carpet were standing between us and the new runner.
When we removed the carpet in the master bath, the stairs became the only remaining carpeted area in the house. We had taken the carpet off the top step months ago to install the hardwoods, but between avoiding the tedious task and worrying about a small dog and a small child navigating slick, uncarpeted steps, we’d been procrastinating. With the new runner staring at us from its packaging, we decided to tackle the stairs for the sake of the puppies.
The job wasn’t hard, just boring and meticulous. Our tools were basic: a crowbar for prying up carpet, pliers for pulling staples, a flathead screwdriver for popping them out, and gloves for protection. Once the crowbar loosened a corner or two, we could grab the carpet and yank it up by hand — carefully, because the underlay was full of staples and other sharp bits.
What lay beneath the carpet was the real challenge. The blue foam padding tore up easily, but the staples were relentless. There were a lot of them. We marked the tack strip nails and many of the staples, and counted 49 staples on one sample step. Multiply that by 12 steps and you end up removing nearly 600 pieces of metal. Most came out with a screwdriver and a tug from pliers, but some broke or got stubbornly stuck, prompting a few not-very-family-friendly mutters along the way.
We worked in short shifts over three days, tag-teaming when schedules allowed, and the job added up to about seven hours in total. Throughout the process our dog Burger provided plenty of cameo appearances — stretching on the stairs, inspecting our progress, and offering affectionate nose licks at inopportune moments. He seemed determined to be nearby for the whole thing.
At the end of our project we had a completely carpetless staircase and, more importantly, a completely carpetless house. One of the homeowner’s goals before the baby arrives has officially been met, which felt great. The wood left under the old carpet is in good condition overall — not heavily scratched despite the pointy tools — though a few steps show more noticeable staple holes. Those spots might indicate a different stapling tool or a re-stapling in the past.
Our plan is to paint the stair risers white while leaving the treads natural, which should help conceal many of the small holes once we fill and sand them. The new runner will cover most tread imperfections, and we’ll use a similar approach to the one we used on the downstairs floors to hide and repair other minor flaws. We’re not changing the color of the treads since they flow into the upstairs flooring and were chosen to match closely.
Before the runner goes down, we also needed to paint the walls and ceiling along the stairwell. We didn’t want to risk dripping paint on the new runner, so that came first. Working up high with a ladder and an extended roller added difficulty — parts of the ceiling were about 16 feet high — but the ceiling and upper walls were painted in the same neutral Edgecomb Gray we used in the foyer so everything will read consistently once the stair hall is finished. We focused on the areas most likely to drip and left the remainder of the upstairs hall for another day, since finishing it would require buying another gallon of paint.
We hope to share the full runner reveal early next week, assuming the risers dry in time. In the meantime both Clara and Burger have navigated the carpetless stairs without trouble — the treads aren’t nearly as slick as we feared, likely worn down slightly by years of carpet — but we’re still glad to add the runner for traction and a softer surface underfoot.
If you’re removing old carpeting yourself, take it from us: expect a lot of staples and a slow, fiddly process. It’s satisfying once the job is done, but it can make you rue the day staples were invented.