There’s nothing quite like the sulfurous smell of a skating rink. It could be the off-gassing of the black floor that is set around the outside of the ice, Zamboni exhaust hanging in the air, perhaps the chemicals that get mixed with the frozen water, or the layered sweat of hockey and figure skaters. It’s a smell that goes home with you, heavy in your hair and clothes. It’s a smell that lingers on your hands after you’ve removed your gloves.

I drove to Vancouver the weekend before last. When I’m up there, I like to go skating. It’s not that we don’t have skating rinks around Seattle; we do, and I could easily go there. I don’t know those rinks, though. They don’t beckon me.Continue Reading