By Dana Lawson, Guest Blogger
It was the summer of 2018. I had moved from the Oregon Coast to the Olympic Peninsula to be closer to Seattle, where I would be receiving my next round of chemo treatments for my cancer.
At the time, I was still recovering from a broken pelvic girdle and was residing in my wheelchair full time. I would gaze out the window of the car up at Hurricane Ridge and dream… I wonder if my wheelchair could get around up there? So one day, I decided to take the drive up and see these magical mountains up close and personal.
Every color of the rainbow, every shape, and every size. Pure eye candy. Around and around the bends we turned until eventually, the summit was reached, the view unbounded, and mighty Mount Olympus loomed in front of me. I remember I just uttered… “This is where the Unicorns live!” My heart felt like a million wings of butterflies had been released and my soul filled with hope and gratitude. I felt so connected to you, Olympic National Park, and I felt cradled by your majesty. I was literally hooked on this feeling and our bond was born.
Over the summer of 2018, our courtship blossomed and our connection deepened further. I stayed in places that were wheelchair accessible: along the Elwha River, Madison Falls, Lake Crescent, the list goes on. But the mountains continued to beckon. I longed to get further in to the park, further from civilization, and closer to the purity of nature.
So, I decided to try Marymere Falls, and I discovered there were several areas that were covered in roots that I could not roll over in my wheelchair. I could hear the sound of you gently calling to me — the waterfall in the distance — so I was not discouraged. I just got out of my wheelchair, crawled on the ground, pulled my chair over the roots, got back in, and kept on rolling.
Eventually I got to the bridge, but the steps to see your magical waterfall kept me from going further. No matter. I was so grateful for this day together and it affirmed our fate of being deeply connected forever.
A few weeks later, I found a pair of aluminum crutches and thought to myself… now I can go over those roots! And maybe even climb mountains some day! I soon discovered the road to Deer Park and Blue Mountain and realized how much you loved all humans, not just me.
I could simply drive up to the top of the mountain, use my aluminum crutches to carry me just half a mile down a trail, and we were in complete solitude together. On this particular day, as I gazed across the snowcapped mountains and listened to the gentle wind blow through the pines, I began to find myself again.
You helped to show me that only having one leg did not mean that my abilities were diminished. You coaxed me further and further into your wilderness, gently encouraging me with your glorious sights, sounds, and smells. Little by little, I found different tools to use to answer your call. I am so grateful for your gentle beckoning, as it literally saved my life.
Outwardly facing, it appeared that my biggest challenges were being an amputee, living in a wheelchair, and enduring the cancer and its subsequent treatment regimens. These were formidable challenges no doubt, but they paled in comparison to the real war that was waging at home.
I had been married to a narcissistic abuser for over a decade and the psychological, emotional, and verbal torture had taken a toll. Through all of the gaslighting — a form of psychological abuse where a person or group makes someone question their sanity, perception of reality, or memories — I had become lost. I felt confused, anxious, and unable to trust myself. I was despondent, nearly without hope, and ready to give up. I was adrift in a sea of despair.
And then you came along, Olympic National Park.
You helped me to see that even the deepest valleys are complimented by the tallest peaks, you just have to find your trailhead and climb on out. So, little by little, over the summer of 2018 I did just that. You were so kind and nurturing to me, gently waiting for me each day as I figured out how to escape my abuser and journey into the cradle of your mountains.
By the summer of 2019, our relationship had taken on a new level. I began to realize the danger I was in and to recognize that my marriage was indeed toxic and abusive. The only place I felt safe, warm, and nurtured was when I could take flight into the tall trees. I discovered the Lake Angeles trail, poured over pictures from fellow hikers’ trips there, and became determined to make it myself one day.
On my first attempt I realized that my aluminum crutches were not versatile enough to manage the steep hills; they were too tall or too short and way too clumsy to use over big patches of roots and rocks. So, I did what I knew I could, I just got down and crawled. But I just knew there had to be a better way. Soon I discovered my forearm crutches, called Sidestix, ran a GoFundMe campaign to purchase them, and in September of 2019 my official freedom crutches arrived.
Forearm crutches require a lot of upper body and core strength, so I looked a bit like a fawn on an icy pond for the first few weeks. Every day I would push a bit further, hopping down my street and gazing up at Hurricane Ridge. You kept whispering to me, don’t stop, you can do it, be patient, be strong, I am always here for you. And I listened. I kept practicing and pushing, and bit by bit grew strong enough to answer your call.
I returned to the Lake Angeles trail to determine if the Sidestix would improve my versatility and permit me to go even further. Upon meeting that first set of roots and rocks, I squealed with delight as I stayed upright and was able to use my crutches to navigate the landscape. So I returned, time and time again, until I could finally reach the first foot bridge over Ennis Creek. On this day, the snow levels had begun to drop for the winter and it felt like pure magic sitting there, listening to the creek babble and dreaming of what was on the other side. I felt those butterflies again in my heart. I felt secure, connected, strong, and hopeful. I began to reconnect with the little girl on the inside, the one who has infinite hope, smiles and joy. My authentic soul. You helped me to find myself again, and to begin to quiet the voice of abuse in my mind. I am forever grateful for you, Olympic National Park.
I started in a wheelchair, limited in my mobility and in my mind. I was trapped in a toxic marriage and my life was in grave danger. You, Olympic National Park, never lost faith in who I was. You always knew about that little girl on the inside and, by calling me to your mountains, you helped me to find her as well: by literally standing up and hopping away from my marriage and into the mountains.
Each time I returned, I gained both physical and mental strength. I became empowered, I found hope, and I was able to finally find the trailhead out of my deep, dark valley. Slowly but surely, I continued to climb, until I finally escaped. I will never forget that day, looking out across the Olympics, cradled by your love, and forever grateful for the soul-saving friendship we forged just a few short years ago.
Today, I am free and safe and honored to call you home, Olympic National Park. Just this past week I summited Mount Storm King… who would have thought that was possible? You always did. Thank you for believing in me, holding space for me, lifting me up and illuminating my trail to healing and recovery.
Dana Lawson knows a thing or two about obstacles. As a survivor of cancer, amputation, trauma, and domestic violence, Dana has also learned some important lessons about how to turn those obstacles into opportunities. Despite the many road bumps she has traversed, Dana continues to turn her pain into purpose. She now leverages her personal experiences, and her background in education, to inspire others toward overcoming their hardships and rediscovering their own unbounded horizons. She is working to build a thriving, empowered, hopeful global community of survivors who are challenging themselves, each other, and the world to reimagine what is possible. Join her at: dana-lawson.com.
Dana will be running the North Olympic Discovery Marathon on June 6 — on crutches — to raise support for survivors of domestic abuse. Lawson and her team have launched a crowdfunding campaign, Heart & Sole: Racing for Survivors. All funds raised by her marathon run will directly support Unbounded Horizons. Learn more about the program and donate to the campaign at unboundedhorizons.org.