Sleek and limber, she glides into a pack of eight helmeted women jostling for position. She darts to one side, then the other, seeking to slip through cracks between skaters.

Shortly, Downs emerges at the head of the pack untouched by opponents trying to block her or, better yet, send her sprawling to the floor.

Downs, of Lancaster, supports herself as a midwife’s apprentice, nanny, substitute teacher and yoga instructor. But roller derby is her new passion. Arms swinging, she pulls away, flies around the flat, oval track at Manheim Township’s Overlook rink and catches the pack for another stab at weaving through and scoring more points for her team.

It’s a practice night for the Dutchland Derby Rollers, an amateur, all-women league a handful of enthusiasts started nine months ago. Forty-four have signed up.

“We’re all just women who love to skate,” said Jen Cole, 27, a social worker who is the league’s president and co-founder. “I thought Lancaster County was a community that could handle something like this.”

Tight circle

Across the country, roller derby is making a comeback, not as campy, pro-wrestling-style entertainment with rigged contests and staged mayhem but as a recreational outlet for sporty, fun-loving women.

True, some skaters whip around in tight tops, short skirts and fishnet stockings. Tattoos and pierced body parts are in evidence, too. The women also go by derby names such as Torque Wench and Ona Rampage.

And in the heat of the moment they tend to say things — “I took her a-- down!” — you don’t hear at Sunday school.

But off the rink sweetness supersedes swagger. The women go out afterward for drinks. They get together on weekends. They share a fondness for an offbeat sport that forges fast friendships.

“I was hesitant at first. It sort of scared me, to tell the truth,” said Ashley Spotts, 29, who has suffered some ugly bruises at practices.

“But I’m so happy that I joined the team,” said Spotts, aka Haulin’ Ash. “I didn’t have friends in town (having recently moved from Schuylkill County), and now I have a whole school of girls I can do things with. It’s like a huge extended family.”

Practices are three nights a week and last two hours. Karen McCollom, the league’s head referee, sometimes takes charge.

“Sprinting! Come on!” McCollom shouts above the hum of 30-some pairs of traditional quad skates rolling on the hardwood floor. The women circle the rink at a brisk pace.

McCollom blows a whistle and yells, “Fall!” The skaters drop onto their kneepads, then jump up and resume skating. “Get up quickly! Go on your toes!” McCollom calls. The drill lasts a half-hour.

Opening night

It can be a punishing workout, as Deb Gorba, 22, of Morgantown, finds out. She takes a spill, retires to a rink-side bench and places a sweaty bag of ice cubes on her knee.

“It’s like rugby on skates,” says Gorba, who was a multi-sport athlete in high school. “I’m a tough girl. I heal fast.”

The practices are building to the excitement of the Rollers’ first competition, or bout, the night of Saturday, Nov. 18, at Overlook. The women will participate in intramural sparring. Down the road they’ll form a travel team for out-of-town bouts.

“Most people are a little bit surprised, but also intrigued,” Erin McSorley, 23, an artist who also works with people with mental retardation, said of a typical reaction when she discloses her hobby. “They think it’s funny and can’t believe they know somebody who does roller derby.”

Believe it.

“It’s real because every woman here has worked to make it real,” Cole said. “It’s inspiring to see these women come out and give it their all. I’m excited because it’s something really positive I have in my life.” blog comments powered by Disqus