Up until about ten years ago, making a rink was one of my passions, a labour of love for the enjoyment of my family and a very creative exercise for someone like myself who considers it artistic to make a McCain’s pizza.
Terry realized my fanaticism about rink building when we bought our most recent home back in 1989. As the realtor showed Terry about the kitchen and family room, I was out in the backyard assessing whether or not the yard was flat enough for a rink. Though it passed my evenness test, I could see that the tree right in the middle of the yard would have to come down as well as some of the cedar trees around a dilapidated arbor.
My neighbor Les playfully admonished me for my rink building prowess just a few weeks ago.
“My sons used to keep asking when they could skate in their own backyard. I just couldn’t seem to get a rink off the ground. You know Mike, you really bugged me back in the day.”
I loved it.
I also loved the unique solitude that getting out on a freezing cold night provided, somehow rekindling my pioneer spirit. More than that, making a rink reminded me of my Dad. He was a great rink maker who loved the outdoors and my connection with him was palpable whenever I watched a perfect ice surface slowly emerge from the sleet and snow.
I’m not sure if my rink building days are behind me. With three grandchildren, I may get back into it again because, for me, building an outdoor rink is all about continuing a tradition, making memories and connecting with what it means to be Canadian.
My Rink Recipe
A dash of cold weather
A light dusting of snow
A sprinkle of water
A large cup of patience
Enjoy!
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