Alright folks, let’s talk about my absolute rollercoaster trying to install that Pad volleyball lvl larch wood floor last week. Thought I knew wood, thought I could handle it. Man, was I wrong. Buckle up.

The Grand Unboxing & Initial Screw-Up

First off, I got the delivery. Boxes upon boxes of this beautiful larch wood. Heavy stuff. Got excited, ripped ’em all open at once. Big mistake number one.

• Left piles sitting right in the middle of the patio area. Sun beaming down, slight breeze – seemed fine, right? Wrong. Next day, noticed a few boards looked… wavy? Like they couldn’t decide if they wanted to be flat or not. Humidity and direct sun messed with ‘em overnight because I didn’t stack ‘em flat and covered in the garage. Already warped before I even started.

The Foundation Nightmare

Cleared the pad area, ready for action. Swept it clean, felt smooth under my boots. Laid out the vapor barrier plastic, all proud of myself. Started dropping the first layer of the floor framework, those big treated wood beams called sleepers. Hammered in my stakes to hold ‘em steady.

Then I checked with my little 2-foot level. Felt that sinking feeling.

• The pad wasn’t level like I swore it was. Had a sneaky low spot near the back. Super slight slope, but enough.
• Instead of fixing it THEN, I figured “Eh, close enough, the frame might pull it level.” Yeah, no. Built the whole darn framework on a slope. By the time I got boards on, the low spot was obvious.

Board Blues: The Crooked March

Started laying the larch boards themselves. Kept it simple – tongue and groove, right? Wrong again.

• First mistake: Forgot to stagger the joints properly between rows. Got lazy, let two seams line up almost back-to-back. Weak spot city.
• Second disaster: Didn’t dry-fit a bunch of boards together before committing. Some tongues were tight, some were loose. Hammered a too-tight one like an idiot. Crack! Split the groove right off a beautiful board. Felt like kicking something.
• Third facepalm: Assumed the boards were all the same length. Measured one, cut like fifty supports based on that. Turns out, length varied a bit. Had gaps like teeth missing in a smile when butting ends together. Crooked, annoying gaps.

The “Oh Crap” Moment & Salvage Operation

Stood back after getting maybe a third laid. Looked like a toddler’s puzzle. Warped boards refusing to lay flat near the edges, the whole thing visibly sloping towards that low spot, seams lining up dumbly, gaps staring back at me. Total junk.

Stopped. Drank some water. Swore a bit (quietly). Then ripped it all up. Didn’t just take off the boards, I had to pull the whole framework apart.

Started over:

• Re-levelled the pad properly with some gravel and sand in that low spot. Packed it down hard.
• Laid sleepers again, checked level every foot with a LONG level. Fixed any wobble with shims right then.
• Measured and cut each support piece individually as I went.
• Staggered joints religiously – like a brick pattern.
• Test-fit EVERY board. If the tongue needed persuasion, sanded it gently first instead of hammering like Thor. Any board that even breathed wrong got swapped out.

Lessons Learned the Hard Way

• Don’t mess with wood storage. Get it sheltered, get it stacked flat day one.
• The pad ain’t level until you PROVE it. Assume nothing. Fix it first.
• Every board is a special snowflake. Measure as you go, don’t assume uniformity.
• Dry fit everything. Every. Single. Piece. Force equals failure.
• Staggering isn’t optional. It’s survival.
• When it looks like garbage, stop. Ripping it out hurts less than finishing a disaster.

Took way longer than planned, but that court’s solid now. Learned more from the dumbest things than the smooth parts. Don’t be me on day one!