Alright folks, let me tell you about this weird little project I got obsessed with last weekend – making plywood that kinda dances and absorbs shocks. Yeah, sounds bonkers, I know. Stumbled across some old skateboard decks and thought, “Huh, maybe…”.

Starting Point: The Stiff Plywood Problem

So, got this corner in my garage where I try to stretch sometimes. Bare concrete floor, ouch. Threw down a regular sheet of plywood I had lying around – super cheap stuff. Jumped on it. Nothing. Just a dead thud. Felt like jumping on a sidewalk. Legs weren’t happy. Figured there had to be a way to make wood absorb a bit of that impact, like springy flooring, but without spending crazy money.

Digging Through the Scrap Pile

Went rummaging. Found some half-rotten plywood scraps behind the shed. Not too thick, maybe half an inch? Had layers peeling off. Looked at them, remembered those skateboards bending. Had another thought about using thin layers. Grabbed a bunch:

• The slightly rotten thin plywood sheets (free!)
• A full sheet of that cheap, thick plywood I’d already tested (annoyingly stiff)
• A half-used tube of wood glue
• A cheap jigsaw
• A bag of sand from that sandbox the kids don’t use anymore
• Some bricks lying around for weight

Glueing & Cursing Phase

Started by cutting those thin ply scraps into smaller squares, roughly same size. Laid out a big piece of plastic on the workbench. Slathered glue on the thick plywood sheet. Plastered it! Stuck the first thin ply square on top. Grabbed bricks, piled them on top for pressure. Left it overnight. Next day, glued another thin square on top of the first thin one. Bricked it up again. Repeated this, oh, maybe four or five times? Lost count honestly. Ended up with a weird plywood lasagna. The edges were all rough and mismatched. Looked awful.

The Sand Trench Test

While waiting for glue, I had an idea about absorbing shock underneath. Hauled the stiff plywood sheet outside. Dumped the bag of sand, spread it out into a rectangle roughly the plywood’s size. Made it about two inches deep. Slapped the stiff plywood sheet on top of the sand. Tentatively stepped on it. Holy smokes! Sunk right in, felt wobbly and unstable, like quicksand. Bad idea for dancing, but… it did absorb shock. Kinda. Way too much.

Tried jumping near the edge. Sand just exploded out the sides. Sand everywhere. Neighbour probably thought I’d lost it.

Testing the Plywood Lasagna

Back to my glued monstrosity. Dragged it inside. Took the bricks off. Flopped it down on the concrete. Hopped on.

Crunch. Sounded horrible. Sounded like it was breaking apart. But… it wasn’t! It gave. Just a little. Felt like it dipped slightly, springing back. Interesting!

Jumped harder. More crunching sounds. Still held together. It actually felt… different. Less impact than the solid plywood, but way more stable than the sand pit. Jumped around like an idiot. Started shifting my weight side to side. The layers seemed to flex against each other. Made a weird creaking, groaning noise. Almost sounded like dancing timbers. “Shock Absorbing Dancing Plywood Timber.” The name popped into my head right then.

Refining the Beast

Got excited. Cut the messy edges off the glued stack, trying to make it look vaguely like a usable panel. Still looked rough as hell. Sanded the top layer to make it less splintery. Tried it again. Wasn’t perfect. Not even close to gym flooring. But it worked! Took the sting out of landing. And that flex? Felt surprisingly responsive. Stomped in a rhythm. That creaky groan became a distinct ‘thump-creeeak-thump’. My weird plywood was kinda… dancing under my feet. The shock was getting soaked up between the glued layers flexing.

Final Realization

So, it works! It absorbs shock by flexing between glued layers. Does it dance? Well, it moves and groans under weight. Is it practical? Maybe for a small home project, garage floor cover. Is it perfect? Heck no! Sand got everywhere, glue-up was messy, and it sounds like it’s breaking constantly. But I started with dead-stiff plywood and ended with something that has give. That’s a win. Total cost: near zero for the materials I scrounged. Would I trust it for professional dancers? Absolutely not. But my sore feet appreciated it. Messy, ugly, noisy, but strangely functional. It dances its own unique dance.