Skating Center an Ice Place in a Southland Summer

As sun pounds upon the asphalt and the outdoor temperature rises, a select group of Angelenos seek solace in a spot that will cool and soothe. Beach? Nah, that’s for those who grease and broil their bodies like trout in a skillet. These Southern Californians crave ice.

They defy nature. They bundle up in sweatpants and sweaters, don mittens and parkas, and plunge into the refrigerated caverns encasing ice arenas.

Cathy Van, 16, brought her 8-year-old sister to the Pasadena Ice Skating Center on a recent sweltering afternoon. During a skating break, the two huddled and shivered on a bench. What brought them to the rink?

“It’s hot outside,” said Cathy, of El Monte. “Outside, you’re sweating. In here, you are freezing; you can’t feel your hands.”

On the ice, Juliana Hung, 15, wobbled forward, hovering close to the rail. She wore blue jeans and a black cardigan buttoned over her white T-shirt. Her shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her face puckered in concentration and her slim body braced in a distinctive oh-my-God-don’t-let-me-fall posture. It was her first time on skates. Small children zipped by, some twirling and spinning, velvet skating skirts flaring and skate blades flashing. Youngsters skated backward. Some screeched to quick hockey stops, others glided with effortless crossovers.

Juliana, a tenth-grader from Arcadia, watched enviously. “It almost seems like I’m too old,” she sighed.

“But why not try?”

Over the summer, Juliana and her cousins had gone to the beach. They’d hung out at the mall. They’d watched movies and played baseball. Only one frontier loomed: Ice.

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When a member of the rink’s Coffee Club (adults who partake of doughnuts, coffee, and skating) recently turned 80, he was awarded a lifetime pass to the rink. But the rink also has classes for children as young as 3.

The indoor rink was established 24 years ago in a building that once housed a ballroom. The building, constructed in 1931, was connected to the southern end of the Pasadena Civic Center on Green Street. In fact, the original wood floor still remains beneath pipes, sand, insulation, plastic protective liner, and two inches of ice.

Officials have begun discussing restoration of the ballroom. That movement gained impetus when the Pasadena Civic Auditorium Foundation recently received a $1-million Housing and Urban Development grant for the renovation.

But the ice rink has another year remaining on its lease, followed by options to renew. So to avoid legal battles, the company that acts as landlord for the city would like to find another location for the rink, somewhere in Pasadena.

It’s not yet clear who would cover construction costs, but rink operators hope to open a new facility that would have two standard-size 85-by-200-foot rinks. (The existing 95-by-150-foot rink is smaller than regulation size.) Ideally, the rink would close only when construction was completed on a new one, which would take about a year, said Mike Paikin, general manager of the Pasadena rink, open all year, seven days a week.

“I’m optimistic that in the next 24 months, we--the community--are going to find a spot,” said Roger Smith, chief executive officer of the Pasadena Center Operating Company.

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In a world as technologically advanced as ours, seasons have come to mean little more than an inconvenience to those dedicated to a sport. A bit of tinkering, and weather can be overcome, shelved like a reference book. Ski enthusiasts now grass-ski or roller-ski. Street lugeing has become the asphalt version of the nordic pastime. And Iditarod junkies harness their dogs to sleds on wheels when snow is just a memory.

Electricity allowed us to extend day into night; ice arenas merely perpetuate winter in summer.

“Our sport used to be known as a winter sport,” said Paikin. No more.

What happened? Skaters became cool. They soared with the grace of dancers and the gumption of gymnasts. Peggy Fleming (gold medal in 1968 Olympics). Dorothy Hamill (gold medal in 1976). Scott Hamilton (gold medal, 1984). Tara Lipinski (gold medal, 1998). Michelle Kwan (silver medal, 1998). And of course, the Great One, Wayne Gretzky--the only hockey player whose name is known even to those ignorant of the game.

Skating’s popularity has snowballed. In 1999, more than 138,000 skaters--double the number from a decade earlier--joined the U.S. Figure Skating Assn. Hockey has seen similar increases, with more than 427,000 players now on the ice.

A surprising number of these skaters hail from the South and Southwest, according to the Ice Skating Institute. Southern California now has about 30 sheets of ice, with new facilities opening over the last few years in Oxnard, Sylmar, Riverside and El Segundo, Paikin said. In Texas, the Dallas area had six rinks five years ago; soon it will have close to 30.

“The Sun Belt has had a huge boom,” said Patti Feeney, managing director of members programs and services for the institute, which recently moved from Chicago to Texas. “Dallas now has high school hockey--I never thought I’d live that long.”

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Evelyn Cabral gets strange looks from her La Puente neighbors when she readies her grandsons Michael, 10, and Brian, 6, for the Pasadena rink. Even when the thermometer nears triple digits, she and the kids are wearing or toting jackets and gloves.

“You say the kids skate and everyone thinks: roller blades,” sighed Cabral.

Michael, who has skated for five years, is a competitive figure skater. He was never particularly adept at more traditional sports, Cabral said. “But put a pair of skates on him and he can fly.”

Cabral spoke as her grandson practiced spins on the ice. Michael, a slim blond with wide blue eyes, wore green corduroy pants and a green sweater over his yellow turtleneck. Skating has built his confidence, Cabral said.

A skater’s footwear tells the discerning observer everything. Skates indicate whether he’s a hockey or figure skater, a serious or occasional skater. Michael has serious figure skates, jet black with precisely sharpened blades. He takes lessons twice a week and tries to skate almost every day.

As his grandmother watched, Michael glided into a crouching position, extended his right leg while balanced on his left skate. She drew in her breath. The movement is called Shoot the Duck.

Michael made it look easy.

“That,” Cabral said, exhaling with relief when he finished, “is really difficult.”