Hiking Outside

UPDATE:  


If you want to go out hiking in CA and actually be on an accessible trail, check this OUT:

Accessible Trails on the California Coast.


There are a lot of photographs in this post. Instead of doing a description as part of the post itself, I am going to experiment with "alt-text." Please let me know if it works and/or if it doesn't.

When my shoulder went out in 2007 (I fell on it, separated the AC with grade 2, developed bursitis, tendinitis, and a scapula with winging tendencies), I rented a discontinued model powerchair from my local medical supply store.  Now, over 3 and a half years later, I own it.

It's not a great chair, technically; full time powerchair users will tell you all about how bad this brand is, how the midwheel drive sucks, how underpowered it is, how unresponsive the joystick is, how uncomfortable and useless the "captain" seat is if you have any kind of seating needs.  In the hardcore/medically complex mobility world, this thing wasn't designed not for SCI or CP or MD or any other alphabetically abbreviated impairment; it's best used, as Medicare would have it be used: indoors only.  It's all true.  But it is also true that I have a power chair now.  And that I can go places that I could not go by either foot or manual chair.

During much of the rental period, the chair didn't see a lot of action.  I felt uncomfortable using it on a daily basis.  I knew that medically speaking I wasn't "that bad" -- whatever you mean by that.  And I was hyper aware of what it might mean to be seen using one.   (Someone -- not me, probably -- should write a post about the prejudices and fears of manual chairs vs powerchairs in the wheel community and how our fears and perceptions are influenced/affected by social stereotyping.)

Anyway, I used it only when my shoulder was exquisitely painful and in the period after my hip surgery -- it was the only thing that could take the angle at which my leg had been set.  It was my backup plan for when things went totally and utterly wrong.  I had it in reserve, and in November of 2008 was beginning to wonder about how it would be to make a powerchair a more regular part of my daily and dancing life.

My need changed after the surgery and rehab, so the chair returned to its place as "worst case" or taking a walk on a long distance or terrain not navigable by manual.  That is until the other week.   While I was renting, I used it carefully.  Once I learned that it was mine, I wanted to see what it could do.

The new house is out in the country -- I mean really out in the country: people are surprised when we say we have city water.  We do have city water, but we also have a propane gas tank.  We're rural -- we worry about fire, mountain lion sightings, rattle snakes, rats, field mice, bats, coyotes, and deer.  Sometimes, I'd rather just deal with city rats (oh, very different) and the fear of bed bugs.

But one advantage of living in the country are the trails that surround our house.  Literally.  Trails criss-cross the whole area: none of them are technically accessible and for that reason, I haven't felt excited about exploring them.  Earlier in the week, however, I met with the park rangers who suggested using the fire roads at my own peril: they gave me a map, and I promised not to sue.  When they say inaccessible, they mean it.  Mostly, the road and trail we went on were wide enough.  It hasn't rained since March, so the ground was hard enough.  BUT the surface was awful and unsafe.  I wished for my belt and yet was glad that if I was going to fall or the chair was going to go over the edge we could separate.  This was no "walk in the park;" I could not have done it without Wizard.  Essentially, he had to push the chair and steer it while I added the juice for huge chunks of the way.  The ruts in the road were killer; the mid-wheel drive sucky; we came a cropper several times.  It wasn't safe, by any means; I was scared a lot of the time.  And I am glad that we were mostly alone -- our language was certainly shocking.  BUT we were outside.  Hiking.  Hiking in the area that we live.

Wizard turned on his GPS to Android/google maps tracking, hyper geekology thing.  We were out for over 3 hours; we averaged 3.7 kph (2.29 mph).  We only travelling 4 km (2.4 miles) on the dirt road, the rest was on a regular road (getting to and from the access point).

And we saw a tarantula.  The picture kind of sucks, but that black blob in the middle of the image?  That is a spider.  A big, black, furry spider.  You can get some sense of  the size of it -- approximately my palm size.  Close up pix can be found here. (Cute, not!)  California apparently has native tarantulas -- 2 kinds.  This freaked both of us out to such an extent that we scurried out of range quickly and quietly, hoping that the spider wouldn't jump or attach itself to my chair.

In sum, I had a great time, but the inaccessibility was a real eye-opener.  I was prepared for some difficult slopes; I was prepared for some uncomfortable surfaces.  I was not prepared for the dangerous combination of the trail and the unresponsive midwheel drive.  I was not prepared for how hard it would be, for how scary it would be, for how much I would have to rely on the Wizard to keep me on the path and to get me out of the ruts.  I was surprised by how dangerous and uncomfortable innocuous looking terrain actually was.  Nor was I prepared for how beautiful it is.  The photos were all taken within a short space of 45 minutes or so.  The sun comes and goes; the marine layer blows fog over the hills like "dragon's breath" (a friend's idea).

The freedom to be outdoors was just incredible.  I was outdoors -- I don't think I have had such an experience in 6 or so years.