photo by Shybeast LLC

The first time I put on roller skates as an adult was in 2018 at Pattison’s North, a roller rink in north Spokane. I remembered birthday parties at Roller Valley Skate Center in Spokane Valley in the early 2000s and wanted to relive the nostalgia with friends. Back then, it seemed effortless, as if I never had to learn in the first place. And back then, if you were cool, you wore rollerblades.

This was different—back to quad skates. Four clunky wheels that give you a wider platform to stand on, but don’t allow you to maneuver and feign athleticism as easily as blades. As a kid, I remember jumping over cardboard boxes in my parents’ driveway like it was nothing. As an adult, I felt like a toddler learning to walk—but with much less cartilage to take the brunt of the fall.

photo by Shybeast LLC

My friends and I rolled off the iconic abstract, fluorescent roller rink carpeting and onto the glistening rink floor. Our cheeks were flushed, but it was impossible not to smile. It was embarrassing but fun. Fun in a genuinely silly, youthful way.

As I stumbled around the rink, I was stunned to see people gliding backwards on their quad skates without lifting a foot. I had never thought of roller skating as something so smooth and cool. In my majority white, suburban upbringing, roller skating was relegated to birthday parties and Disney Channel child athlete movies. I had much to learn about the rich culture and history behind it all.

My friends and I were terrible but hooked. It isn’t often that you feel such levity in adulthood, and we envied the skills of the experienced skaters that night. We took to the internet to learn more about skating and where we could buy our own pairs.

photo by Shybeast LLC

What we didn’t realize at the time is that roller skating was building momentum towards a resurgence in popularity, partially ushered in by the market explosion of the bright, colorful Moxi roller skates sold out of Southern California and marketed primarily towards women and the LGBTQIA+ community. They sold skates for the outdoors. It had never occurred to me to take a quad skate out of the rink.

This was the shiny, new side of skating that would explode in popularity in the coming years, especially with the onset of the pandemic when everyone was looking to explore a new outdoor hobby.

After researching further on YouTube, I was able to find an entirely different skate culture. These videos featured packed adult skate nights with rinks full of experienced skaters who all had their own style. This wasn’t about athleticism, really. This was about jam. Jam skating isn’t about skating around the rink as fast as you can. It’s about moving together as a community, enjoying music, linking arms, and feeling the unmatched joy of dancing on wheels.

photo by Shybeast LLC

This was something I had never seen, but I knew it was connected to the magic I had felt watching the skaters at Pattison’s North. The reason I had never been exposed to this is because this side of skating is deeply rooted in Black culture, and that wasn’t something I was privy to as a white kid growing up in the majority white Spokane Valley. As a white adult, I had never learned about it because that side had been overshadowed until the recent roller skating resurgence began to take influence from the Black Lives Matter movement.

photo by Shybeast LLC

So, I got the skates. Now I had to figure out what kind of skating I wanted to do. Spokane and Coeur d’Alene are lucky to have it all when it comes to skating. I found a local chapter of Chicks in Bowls, a global organization that encourages skaters, especially female-identifying skaters, to take their quad skates to their local skate park. Skating on flat ground is one thing. Skating in a bowl or on an incline is a different experience of exhilarating terror and fun.

Skating in parks is great, but you have to enjoy a hardy adrenaline rush. I’ve yet to try roller derby, but my respect runs deep for those willing to brave it. Nobody knows how to control themselves and stop on a dime like a derby skater.

photo by Shybeast LLC

I found myself primarily drawn to the rink. It wasn’t until I watched the 2018 documentary United Skates that I realized two things. First—how incredibly fortunate Spokane and Coeur d’Alene are to have not one, but multiple rinks to enjoy. Second—how vitally important skate rinks have been to Black American communities. Even in Spokane, Pattison’s North is one of the most racially diverse places you can visit.

All this to say, skating has become one of the biggest joys in my life. As an adult, it teaches you how to not be so terrified of falling and looking like an idiot. As a woman, it encourages you to be out in the world taking up space. As a human, it brings you together with so many different people all in the spirit of having the most earnest and fun time possible. If you haven’t tried it yet, Eastern Washington and North Idaho are surprisingly amazing places to give it a spin.