By Guest Blogger Syren Nagakyrie, founder of Disabled Hikers

I wasn’t particularly outdoorsy growing up. I was a sick kid. I experienced my first joint dislocation at the age of four and was consistently injured, suffering from asthma or otherwise sick my entire childhood. I had one disabled parent and one who worked full time (and is now disabled) and my family lacked the money and time that made outdoor recreation possible. But I did enjoy nature and would spend hours in my yard examining plants and insects, watching birds fly and gazing at the moon. These experiences taught me the value of “small adventures” and paying attention to the natural world that surrounds me every day.

I was in my mid-20s when I really began exploring outdoor recreation. I joined a few groups that held outings and enrolled in educational programs that included an outdoor component. Unfortunately, I continued to encounter a lack of acceptance around my disability and access needs. I was told so many times that I didn’t belong if I couldn’t participate in the same ways as everyone else. When I asked for more information about an upcoming activity, I was given the bare minimum information – a few words about an ADA accessible facility or how long we might be outside. But I needed to know information about all of the features of the outing, accessible and inaccessible. I needed to know information about the trail and facilities, whether there would be rest breaks and what resources would be available for support. I can’t count the number of times I ended up waiting on the side of the trail or back at camp while everyone else enjoyed an outing.

So, I continued to enjoy my ‘small adventures,’ finding ways to get outdoors that worked for me. I have been lucky to live in multiple places with abundant natural beauty, where I could connect with nature while sitting on my front porch or by taking a short drive. While there is definitely more acceptance of disability in the outdoor community now, and more information is available compared to ten years ago, I continue to encounter a lot of inaccessibility and judgement. It is so frustrating. There is ample evidence that interacting with nature provides a range of benefits, including physical and psychological well-being, enhanced cognitive ability and social cohesion (Citation: Keniger, et. Al. (2013)). And yet the people who need these benefits the most – those who are disabled or chronically ill – have the least access and the fewest resources.

My years of frustration came to a head in the spring of 2018. I had moved to the Olympic Peninsula the previous fall and fell in love with the beauty and spirit of the place. Being out in Olympic National Park brings me such joy and peace; I moved here at a time when I desperately needed the benefits that connection with nature provides.

My disabilities have progressed to the point where I really need to be intentional about the trails I hike and careful about my preparations. I spend hours researching trail guides, pouring over maps and asking for suggestions for even the most “basic” of hikes. One day, I decided to attempt a trail that was listed in all of the guides as easy. As soon as I started out on the trail, I encountered steep stairs and a narrow, scree-covered path along a steep drop off — with no guard rail. The rest of the trail gained and lost elevation in steep sections. None of these trail features were included in the guides I read but any one of them could have been dangerous for me – one slip and I could dislocate a joint, one moment of vertigo and I could fall down the stairs or off the mountain. But I know that to a non-disabled person, all of these features are just part of the trail and are inconsequential.

I eventually reached my destination: a bridge over a waterfall. Exhausted and in pain, I leaned against the railing to rest and watch the water cascade through the ravine. The scene was undoubtedly inspiring and at that moment a light bulb went off in my head. I asked myself, why don’t I do something about this? I can combine my love of the outdoors, social activism and writing skills into a project for disabled hikers by disabled hikers. And so Disabled Hikers was born.

Disabled Hikers is unique in this way. While there are many organizations with the mission to help disabled people get outside, most are centered on non-disabled people helping disabled people. This is an important service and more people need to support the disability community. But it also runs the risk of becoming more about charity and inspiration for non-disabled people rather than the experiences of disabled folks. Disabled Hikers embraces the diverse perspectives of people with disabilities and builds community among disabled and chronically-ill people. We trust ourselves and each other to know what we can do and what our bodies need, and to help each other decide what that is when we need to. This approach builds community with greater inter-dependence and autonomy so that people can enjoy the outdoors on their own terms with the support of the disability community. Our mission is to build disability community and justice in the outdoors.

We aim to accomplish this in a few ways. The first is by offering trail guides with detailed accessibility information. I write guides for Olympic National Park and other locations in Washington and Oregon. I invite contributions from other disabled hikers anywhere in the country and am happy to work with people to write guides. I also offer group hikes in many areas throughout the hiking season. Our hikes are supportive experiences; information is provided up front so folks can make an informed decision about participating. There is never any pressure to keep up with the group, we take breaks whenever someone needs and make decisions about the route we travel as a group.

Advocacy and activism are also activities of Disabled Hikers. I write articles, consult with parks and other organizations, and offer presentations. The goal of the work is to raise awareness about disability and accessibility in the outdoors. Experiences of disability are incredibly diverse, and accessibility means more than paved paths or ADA accessible restrooms.

Non-disabled people can offer their support by learning more about disability and access needs (our website and social media is one starting point), examining the ways you may judge people with disabilities and advocating for improved access. If you are involved in outdoor recreation opportunities, think about how you provide information and what your expectations for participation are. Your help in spreading the word and connecting us with resources is always appreciated. Organizations like Washington’s National Park Fund are important sources of funding for accessibility improvements and deserve your support as well.

I will always owe gratitude to the lands of Olympic National Park — which is originally the lands of the S’Klallam, Makah, Quileute, Hoh and Quinault peoples — for the beauty, inspiration and healing that supported me and led me to creating Disabled Hikers. This part of the world is so special, and we must protect the land and access for marginalized people, so that it may be enjoyed for generations to come.

And, very exciting news as The Disabled Hiker’s Guide to Western Washington and Oregon: Outdoor Adventures Accessible by Car, Wheelchair, and Foot is being published by Falcon Guides in 2021! This elevates the needs of disabled folks and brings diverse disability representation to the outdoor publishing industry. It will be the first book of its kind to consider the diverse needs of disabled people in the outdoors. The book removes one of the barriers to access — a lack of information – by utilizing a difficulty rating system and detailed trail information designed for the disability community. This flagship book sets a precedent for more guides written by disabled hikers for disabled hikers.

I have just launched a fundraiser to support this ambitious project. As you may know, authors earn very little from their books, and almost nothing prior to publication, so I’m looking for support to complete this community resource. Thank you for consideration.

Syren Nagakyrie (she/they) is the founder of Disabled Hikers. They are a white, queer disabled person from a poor, working-class background. Syren has multiple indivisible disabilities and is a lifelong activist and community builder. Connect with Syren at DisabledHikers.com, on Facebook or Instagram @disabledhikers.