There are plenty of drawings, videos and guides explaining how a geodesic dome is constructed. But we soon discovered that understanding the mathematics is one thing; building the structure in timber is quite another.
As we worked through the geometry and built our first three-dimensional CAD model, we looked for knowledge wherever we could find it. We watched YouTube videos, read websites and tried to understand how others had solved the joints, angles and connections.
Then we began experimenting for ourselves.
Almost by chance, we had bought several older woodworking machines at an auction on Klaravik. Suddenly we had a four-sided planer and moulder with hundreds of planing and profiling cutters, a heavy cast-iron combination machine for sawing and milling, a slot mortiser, and a jointer and thickness planer.
It was not a modern production line. But it was a real workshop—and, above all, it gave us the chance to start testing things for real.
We planed, sawed and milled. We made test pieces, changed angles and tried again. Things that looked straightforward in the CAD model sometimes proved far less obvious when timber met steel.
From the beginning, we also tried to think more like a small manufacturer than a workshop making one-off pieces. In what order should we make the cuts? How could we avoid unnecessary machine changeovers? Which operations could we do in batches? How could we make the next component faster without compromising its quality?
But it was only when we began building the small physical prototypes that we truly understood how sensitive the geometry was.
In one of our first attempts, we had already made around 300 components when we realised something was wrong. The error was almost absurdly small: about 0.2 degrees. Our calculations were correct, but we had measured an angle in the wrong plane.
Two tenths of a degree sounds negligible.
But when the same small error is repeated hundreds of times through a geodesic structure, the result is anything but negligible. The components simply would not meet as the model said they should.
We scrapped all 300 components and started again.
That lesson stayed with us when we moved to full scale. There, the problem became even clearer. We could make the components with our manual machines, but achieving the precision—and above all the consistency—that the structure demanded was difficult.
In the CAD model, an angle could be defined exactly. In the workshop, we stood in front of a mechanical degree scale, trying to judge whether the blade was really set where we thought it was.
Somewhere along the way, the question changed.
We did not need better mathematics. We already had that.
We needed a way to carry the precision of the mathematics all the way to the saw blade.
That was where the hunt for decimal places began.
During the summer of 2026, we selected three pilot partners from almost 100 applications from Sweden and abroad. The pilot year has now begun with installations in Hemavan, Åre and Borgafjäll.
Under sommaren 2026 valde vi ut tre pilotkunder bland närmare 100 intresseanmälningar från Sverige och andra länder. Pilotåret har nu inletts med installationer i Hemavan, Åre och Borgafjäll.
Tillsammans med våra pilotkunder kommer vi under det kommande året att vidareutveckla varje del av Scandinavian Domes – från materialval och hantverk till logistik, installation och långsiktig hållbarhet – inför den bredare marknadslanseringen 2027.