The rink at the bottom of the hill

The ice rink behind my childhood house sat a few hundred feet to the south, right at the base of our sledding hill.

The hill and house helped shield it from the north wind. Trees to the east protected it from eastern winds, and we had tree cover from the west as well. To the south was an open field, so the rink didn’t have much protection from the winter sun, which shortened our season, but also made those cold days a little more manageable.

If I close my eyes, I can still feel it, the crisp air, the crunch of skate guards digging into packed snow as I made my way down the hill to join the game. The sound of blades cutting into ice and pucks bouncing off the boards would grow louder with every step.

That rink was the setting for a lot of my childhood.

Heading Down the Hill

There was something about that walk down that made it feel different than just going out to skate.

You could hear and see the game before you even got there. Guys calling for passes, sticks tapping, the occasional shout after a goal. By the time you stepped onto the ice, you were already in it.

There were no teams or schedules, everyone was welcome.

Getting a Game Together

Some days I’d get a game going myself.

That meant calling my buddies’ house phones one by one, keeping a list as I went to make sure we had enough guys. No texting, no group chats, just hoping someone picked up.

“Hello.”

“Hi Karen, is Johnny there?”

“Yes, he’s downstairs. Give me one minute, I’ll go get him.”

…

“Hello?”

“Hey Johnny, this is Ryan. Can you come play hockey this afternoon?”

“Let me ask my mom.”

…

“She said yes. What time?”

“3 o’clock.”

“Awesome. See you then.”

“Nice. See ya later.”

Boom. One more. Add a tally and move down the list. That’s how it was done in the 90s.

I had a few older brothers though, so a lot of the time they handled it. I could just grab my skates, head down the hill, and sneak into whatever game they already had going.

Weekends on the Rink

Weekends were different.

We’d have relatives over, friends bringing other friends, it felt like there was always someone around looking to get a skate in. Sometimes it turned into a full game, other times it was just people messing around on the ice.

Either way, the rink was always being used. Saturday skates with my dad and his friends were also great.

It Didn’t Have to Be Perfect

The ice wasn’t always perfect.

Weather always played a factor. It could be rough, a little uneven, sometimes snow-covered. But after a couple of games, it would get skated in and start to feel right.

We were outside, playing hockey—and that was enough.

If you’re building your own rink, understanding how to maintain a backyard ice rink makes a huge difference once the season gets going.

What I Think About Now

Looking back, that rink was everything.

It wasn’t just a place to skate—it was a place where something was always happening. A place where you could show up, find a game, and stay out longer than you probably should have.

That’s a core memory for me.

Why Backyard Rinks Still Matter

That’s still what backyard rinks are about.

Yeah, now there are easier ways to build them. Better systems. Better ice.

But at the end of the day, it’s not really about that.

It’s about having a place in your backyard where people want to be all winter.

If you’re deciding how you want to build your own, here’s a breakdown of DIY vs liner backyard ice rinks.

Build Your Own

That’s what we think about at Polar Bear Rinks.

Not just building rinks—but helping people create something like this in their own backyard.

Because years from now, you’re not going to remember how smooth the ice was.

You’ll remember the walk out to the rink… and the games that were already going when you got there.