By nightfall, the Embarcadero is coming to life. Down the strip at Pier 39 tourists are shopping, eating clam chowder in sourdough bowls, trying to stay warm, and watching the hardly-moving sea lions. Nightclubs along the piers are opening their doors, dimming the lights and pouring the wine. But here, at the Ferry Plaza, locals are getting fired up for their Friday night tradition of rollerblading through the streets of San Francisco.

“I gotta be a little different than everybody else,” says David “The Godfather” Miles, as he screws wheels onto his roller blades, covering them with knee-high red, furry boots. He isn’t into the regular Friday night scene—getting drinks and dancing with strangers in clubs. His friends are here, smiling and hugging, skating in circles under a clear sky and waiting to get the party started—a party that keeps moving throughout the night.

Friday Night Skate is a weekly event in San Francisco that gathers locals, ranging in ages from their early twenties to late fifties, who rollerblade from nine o’clock in the evening till midnight, hence the name of their clique, the “Midnight Rollers.” They start in the Ferry Plaza and blade to Pier 39, stopping only to catch their breath. They also perform tricks, like jumping over seated bladers in front of large crowds at Union Square. What once started out as just some friends going skating turned into a tradition that has beckoned skaters world wide and had up to 700 skaters join to saturate the streets.

Friday Night Skate started almost twenty years ago, on a Thursday, shortly after the ’89 earthquake. Miles, head of skate patrol at Golden Gate Park, got a knock on his door one evening from skaters who wanted to see the “old school” routes. Inline skating, or rollerblading, hadn’t really interested Miles as much as roller-skating did, but he had bought a pair and kept them in his closet. Enticed by his friends’ proposal, he brought the rollerblades out, dusted them off, and thought to give this new trend one more try. He took his guests down Golden Gate Avenue toward the Embarcadero. The earthquake left this section of the road closed, but that didn’t stop the skaters. They eventually changed the route to its current ten-mile hike, and when shows like The Simpsons started stealing away skaters one-by-one, they moved skate night to Friday.

“What do you do on Friday night anymore? I wanna do something and have a good time,” says Miles who moved to San Francisco in 1979 from Kansas City where no one even roller-skated. Cruising through Golden Gate Park, he caught his first glimpse of roller-skaters as they blurred past him. He is now the president of the California Outdoor Roller-Skating Association, owner of a skate school, producer of a television program dedicated to skating, creator of the Skate Against Violence Campaign, and founder of the Midnight Rollers Friday Night Skate.

Miles talks with a few more friends underneath the clear night sky and then stands up, signaling for the group to prepare for departure.

“If you want to be on time, go to work,” laughs Miles who explains that this skate is about going at a comfortable speed and enjoying the night. He skates over to his baby stroller that is equipped with speakers, an iPod, and a microphone, encouraging the curious crowd to join in on the skate. After just a few short announcements, he turns up the music and signals the skaters to begin. They zip down the pier and head into the night, glow sticks and streamers trailing behind.

“It’s a very eclectic group of people,” chuckles Miles.

The walls of the Broadway tunnel reverberate with the skate-train and the sound of cars passing. The team hugs the turns inside the tunnel before descending onto the streets of Chinatown. It’s ten thirty at night, and soon, more than thirty bladers accompany Miles inside the fume-covered walls. More skaters want to join the beginning bunch and now wait patiently for everyone to exit the tunnel.

The group fills the streets, echoing into the night. Cars honk, skaters laugh, and the clack of plastic wheels and Miles’ speakers reverberate off buildings. Crowds of San Franciscans and tourists watch the skaters. Some have seen them before, while others look on the spectacle in awe. And just as quick as the skaters swoop in, the group moves on.

“Everybody here started out as a stranger,” says Miles, admiring the large group. “There’s something very special about this.”

Midnight arrives, and the first few skaters slink into their final destination and huddle around, waiting patiently for others and their leader to return to the end destination—the Powell BART station. “The Godfather” rolls up, thanks everyone for an incredible time, and they all hang out for a bit, most not ready to go home just yet. After all, it is Friday, and the night has just begun.