So I’m sitting in the backyard nursing a killer volleyball ankle sprain, thinking there’s gotta be better than playing on concrete pretending it’s a court. That’s when the madness started – I’ll build portable shock-absorbing flooring from birch. Crazy? Probably.

Wood Hunt & First Disaster

Tore apart my garage hunting materials first morning. Found warped plywood scraps but nothing usable. Drove to three lumber yards before spotting rough birch planks. Grabbed the thickest ones thinking more wood equals more bounce. Huge mistake.

Dragged those monsters home sweating buckets. Laid them out for measuring and instant regret. These planks weighed like dead whales! No way this stays “portable.” Sawed off about 1/3 of each plank while neighborhood kids laughed at the sawdust tornado in my driveway.

The Bounce Test Fiasco

Figured shock absorption needs air gaps under the planks. Nailed leftover PVC pipes as spacers between boards. Did a test jump and CRACK – snapped two pipes instantly. Switched to cutting rubber hose segments instead, stealing pieces from my garden sprinklers. Screwed the planks together with hose bits sandwiched between.

Tried jumping again. Better! But still felt like jumping on cafeteria trays. Needed cushion. Ransacked closets for old yoga mats – sliced them up like deli meat. Gorilla-taped mat strips between every wood joint. Now we’re talking! That satisfying thump-thump when I bounced the volleyball.

Portability Nightmare

Assembly weighed a ton. Had to cut the whole mess into four sections with folding hinges. First version collapsed like soggy cereal box when I tried lifting it. Added locking braces from broken tent poles. Threw some rope handles on the sides – instant finger guillotines when carrying. Fixed with pool noodles duct-taped around the ropes.

Final torture test? Dragged it to the park downhill. Sections went full runaway shopping cart, nearly took out Mrs. Henderson’s poodle. Lesson: Never trust gravity with DIY projects.

But guess what? Played three hours yesterday on this rickety birch contraption. Knees don’t feel like smashed pottery today. Total win. Would I rebuild it? Hell no – this Frankenstein floor stays forever. Now excuse me while I ice my shoulder from dragging this beast home.