A paver patio is the most-used room of a Charlotte home for eight months of the year — and the most unforgiving thing you can build on red clay if the base is wrong. Clay heaves when wet and shrinks bone-dry in August; a patio laid on two lazy inches of base telegraphs every one of those moves into humps, dips and rocking chairs.
We build the boring part like a road crew: excavate past the topsoil, compact in lifts over geotextile fabric, six-plus inches of crushed base where Carolina clay demands it, screeded bedding, then your pavers — laid to pattern, cut clean around curves, edged so nothing creeps, and polymeric-sanded so weeds and ants stay out of the joints.
Walkways that don't puddle. Fire pit areas that pull the family outside in October. Seat walls that double as overflow seating for the cookout. Outdoor kitchens roughed for gas and power. We design hardscape and planting together so the stone never looks like it landed from space — it looks like the yard grew around it.
Walk us through it once — we handle the rest, in writing.