Creature and Monster Viking Raid Tour Storms Into Helride 2025.

Cody Lockwood.

Helride.
The word alone reeks of smoke, wet grip tape, and ancient beer. We touched down in Helsinki, land of saunas and stoic stares, only to be greeted by thunderclouds that screamed, “Welcome to the party.”

And the raid began…

The gods didn’t piss on the city—nah, they howled. Like Zephyr himself had joined the Viking raid. But the storm didn’t scare the board riders. It ignited them. A flash flood of skaters surged through the capital’s veins, led by the savage horde that is the Creature and Monster Viking Raid Tour.

The ramp rose like a battle barricade, and before anyone could ask, “What time does it start?”—boards were flying, fists were pumping, and the crowd was foaming at the mouth.

Liam Pace.

This wasn’t a demo.
This was a ritual sacrifice to the skate gods.

And the people came—pilgrims to the altar of plywood carnage, baptized in sweat, Monster syrup, and overpriced brew. Chanting like zealots. Hungry for fire. Desperate to witness something that shouldn’t be possible on four wheels.

Marius Syvänen, spitting truths and tales behind the mic like a poet on four wheels.

Even a crusty Estonian delegation sailed in, powered by black bread, ferry fumes, and raw adrenaline.

Spotted:
Jarmo Kangro, eyes rolled back, crailslid the loveseat like it was a hallucinated serpent blocking the gates of Valhalla. Pure Norse lunacy.

Jarmo Kangro, Crail slide.

Meelis Erm? Slick tricks during the Vans mini-contest. Crowd roared.
And from the foggy streets of Riga, Arturs “Mr. Boga” Bogdanovics came stomping through like he was reclaiming sacred territory.
Glory secured.

Meelis Erm.

Arturs “Mr. Boga” Bogdanovics.

Verdict?
Skateboard Ragnarok.
The Finns?
Absolutely unchained.
It wasn’t a skate demo—it was a prophecy fulfilled. They stormed the ramp like a horde from myth, leaving scorch marks and believers.