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02/01/2017 11:01 PMA few weeks ago, my kids saw their first snowstorm, ever, since we recently moved here from California. They lost their minds. They were outside by 6:45 a.m. (no small feat for children who typically need to be coaxed, dragged, bribed, and fiendishly threatened to make it to the bus stop by 7:30 a.m.). Next, we were off to Baldwin Hill in Guilford, which we had heard so much about. The kids jumped on their sleds and flew down towards the assembled hay bales at amazing, exhilarating speeds while my husband and I laughed and snapped photos—the friends in LA were going to love this!
All around us, mixed with the sounds of our children’s joy, was the peaceful sound of snow fall, something I haven’t experienced in far too long. Snow was collecting in that gorgeous and intricate way it does on branches and reeds, adding a layer of fluff to pines. It was absolutely, breathtakingly magical—right up until the moment it wasn’t, which for me came about 15 minutes into the adventure when I realized that I could no longer feel my toes. My lips were too cold to speak coherently, my ears were close to snapping off, and I had little hope left of ever making use of my fingers again. It suddenly was painfully apparent that 20 years in California had thinned my blood. I was clearly on the verge of hypothermia.
Telling kids they have to come in because it’s cold is kind of like...well, telling kids it’s too cold they have to come in. Somehow I managed to wrangle two mystified, fiercely disappointed kids back into the car and took them home where we discovered something awesome. A long, lovely sloping compilation of grass and outcroppings in our yard was, covered in snow, a fantastic sledding hill. It even had a natural jump. Okay, the sledding hill ended abruptly at the base of the garage (prompting my “Feet first!” edict) and the natural jump had a tendency to veer you into the gazebo (prompting my “Lean a Little to the Right!” edict), but a fine hill it was. It was made all the more fine by the fact that I could stand inside, like a sane human being, and watch the action from a window, my hands wrapped tight around a hot mug of tea. Meanwhile, the kids spent hours—and I do mean hours—racing up and down the hill, coming in only to swap out wet mittens or hats.
My mind starting working. In California, kids were outside playing everyday all year. How do you keep kids playing outside all year round in near arctic conditions? I mentioned this to another mom, and she said simply “Ice skating.” I started to look into nearby ice rinks, and that’s when, out on my morning jog, the answer appeared. Sometimes, you really don’t have to look any farther than your own backyard:
Set up along my route, overnight, presumably with the help of a magic wand and a hearty contingent of fantastic beings, was a sprawling, beautiful, backyard skating rink.
I marveled at the craftsmanship, at the potential for hours of family fun—and got instantly intimidated. Ikea-furniture-assembly is the outer edge of my construction-comfort zone. Fortunately, for people like me there are kits available from place such as Amazon. But for those of you who want the challenge and satisfaction of constructing your own rink, here is some advice from seasoned backyard rink enthusiasts. It would probably take me the better part of a week—okay a month—to complete this, but the best guesstimate I got from skilled builders was that it was a solid one-day job, or a weekend project, for most.
STEP ONE: Go Shopping
Most of these items are available at Home Depot or Lowe’s, or even online. You will need:
• Pressure-treated wood—lots of it, 2x4’s and 2x6’s, amount depending on how big you want to make the rink
• A tarp or better yet a polysheet. You could try a thick, 6 milimieter polysheet for good results, but no matter what kind of covering you choose, you want to go with a light or transparent color. Darker-colored linings will trap heat, and that kind of defeats the purpose of building a skating rink.
• Screws. Exterior deck screws have been recommended.
• A hearty staple gun and staples
• A big squeegee, with an extendable handle.
• A spigot you can clip on to your sink so you can access hot water (for maintenance of your rink)
• Optional: a push broom
STEP TWO: Build The Frame.
One builder I spoke to suggested making the frame with 2 x 6 pressure treated wood, then bracing it with 2 by 4s in the middle to prevent the frame from bowing (don’t forget that water will put a lot of pressure on the sides of your rink). Next, spread the tarp or polysheet across. It should overlap on the sides. Secure it with staples every three to four feet. And remember, if you get lost, confused, frustrated, annoyed or sink into despair, you can always consult Bob Vila. His website has some great construction tips.
STEP THREE: Fill ‘er Up!
First, it’s important that the rink is level. If it’s not, adjust the height of the walls to allow for an even water depth on all sides. A depth of 3 to 4 inches is good.
STEP FOUR: The Zamboni Effect.
Once it gets cold and you get a good freeze, every so often, spray your rink down with hot water to resurface the ice. This is where your squeegee comes in handy—that will help you achieve a smooth, even surface for those beginner skaters.
Also, beware the snow! Snow can function as a blanket over your rink and melt that long-awaited, cherished ice. Grab your push broom, or even just a plain, household broom, and get it off quickly when it falls.
Finally, at the end of the season, take your rink down promptly. Because while during the winter your rink can actually help your lawn by keeping it warm, if you leave it up too long after the season ends, you risk damaging your grass.
So now you have built your rink and figured out a cozy vantage point from which to watch the kids skate. Maybe you’ve even ventured out there for a few figure-eights yourself. And maybe you’ve gotten fancy and busted out those Christmas lights for a party atmosphere and a little night time skating. Now comes Step Five: Get Zen. No one can control, or even often predict, the weather. A deep frost predicted at the beginning of the week is a mild rain by week’s end. Hang on and believe: If you build it, they will come.