As a kid growing up in Miami, there’s a high chance that your parents sent you away to a day camp. During these camps, you get to meet new friends. You learned about sharing board games. You even ended up visiting most of Miami’s favorite hang out spots.
These spots ranged from the old Kendall ice skating rink, Game Time (back in my day it was called Game Works,) or the Miami Seaquarium. As exciting as those places may be for the average tween, none of these sites are as exciting as Miami’s favorite roller skating rink, Super Wheels.
Ahhh, yes. It’s the go-to day trip for every camp counselor. I can’t count the number of times I’ve visited it as a pre-teen. Most of the time, those trips were filled with anxiety, excitement, and slight dread.
Dread? Well, yes.
For every great memory I have about Super Wheels, there’s two or three more that creep up on me a fast as the mosquitos on your skin during spring showers. Although I love Super Wheels, and even discussed heading back there recently with my friends, there is definitely a sense of nostalgia that keeps dedicated costumers returning.
As you step inside the building, you’re immediately met with the smell of cinnamon churros, the pounding of the latest top 40 hits, and a myriad of kids struggling to keep their balance in a pair of used roller skates. Of course, when you’re 10 years old these things don’t bother you. You’re only in there to have fun, scrape your knees a bit, and stuff your mouth with decently priced food.
I suppose that’s why they’ve remained in my subconscious for years. Yeah, they may not be the best of establishments. They may not have the newest technology. But there’s something very intimate about Super Wheels. It was the cornerstone to most of my ‘coming-of-age’ moments as a kid. I know it’s just a roller rink, but I had a lot of good memories there.
Although it isn’t the flashiest of places, Super Wheels will always be a part of South Florida history and most importantly my heart.
