Maik Grüner goes frontside.
Six winters. Yeah, you read that right.
The little outlaw mini hidden somewhere in the forests of Tallinn’s suburb is somehow still standing while most backyard ramps rot into mushroom food after three seasons. Either Raakel is blessed by the skate gods, or plywood simply fears old men with too much free time.
The last facelift happened back in 2019, immortalized in Confusion issue #27. Since then the ramp has swallowed thousands of grinds, rivers of fear sweat, questionable frontside grinds and enough blood to legally qualify as a minor battlefield.
Last spring—if that cold, wet joke deserves to be called spring—the sessions got weird. The more we skated, the more riders disappeared through the plywood instead of landing grinds on the coping. One minute you’re aiming for a rock’n’roll, the next you’re waist-deep inside the transition wondering where your dignity went.
The last dance before surgery. Raakel gets the final grind while Maik Grüner is already knee-deep in construction mode.
Time for surgery.
We ripped the whole beast apart to inspect its skeleton. Surprisingly, the diagnosis wasn’t terminal: a handful of ribs had to go, the traditional radioactive-green wood protection was splashed around like Jackson Pollock on construction meth, and fresh sheets were ready for deployment.
Gloves on. Plywood battle mode activated. Raakel and Jaagup Mägi.
Jaagup Mägi, swimming through a sea of fluorescent ribs.
One plywood sheet to go. Long day on the tools… will there be any juice left for skating?
Full professional mode: one man working, one man standing by with his hand behind his back, supervising the operation. Construction standards were strictly observed.
The rebuild crew assembled like the world’s least responsible Avengers: Jaagup Mägi, Vatler Nõmm, the Fuzzolini frontman, and site conductor Maik Grüner, armed with drills, screws and the kind of construction methods that would make EU-OSHA quietly leave the country.
A few days later, the fortress rose from the dead.
Raakel got the first ride, the first grind, and the first slam. His bruised ass can confirm it.
Raakel’s backyard Plywood Deathtrap lives again. The thing is basically a wooden archaeological site, built from leftover Simple Session scrap wood dating back to the mid-2000s—so old it belongs in the Stone Age of skateboarding. You could say retirement was overdue. Instead, this U-shaped wooden sculpture just got itself a new lease of life.
The coping is hungry, the plywood smells fresh, and the Vanad Kondid gang has hopefully got another six seasons to collect haematomas the size of the Baltic Sea.
Same ramp. Same idiots. Six more seasons.
The first session after surgery. L to R: Kristian, Raakel, Maik, Janar, Risto and Nico. The old beast was officially back in business.
Tartu legend Janar Ilves made the trip. Leaving without dropping a classic layback grind for his friends was simply not an option.
Risto Kozer, magnificent as ever, with a backside tailslide.
Nico, bert slide the extention, Rooooaaaarrrr! Now THAT’S the sound of pool coping.
Risto Kozer, backside lipslide.
Raakel, frontside layback rock ’n’ roll. The slam tax was due.
Nico, frontside air. The ramp is now officially super fast. An ape-style escape was the only logical response.
Maik Grüner, 51 candles on the cake, soon to be 52. What the hell is that in cat years? Nobody knows. Nobody cares. The man is still here, still skating, and apparently still trying to conquer his fear of death.
The beast in its environment.
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