Hope Springs!

Somehow I managed to make it through 2020 without a blog post, except the first week - still in the Before Time. So in terms of this blog, 2020 didn't happen! 

If only it were that simple. What a crappy year for everyone. It was the Murphy's Law of years. And 2021 didn't start out much better - pandemic surges and variants, the Big Lie, the insurrection. But things have calmed down a little in April, with sanity finally returned to the White House and millions of vaccines in arms.

How was my 2020 you ask? Actually not much changed for me after the initial couple of months of near-quarantine. It worked out quite well for a couple of introverts. Laurie had to close her family childcare for ten weeks, so we had lots of quiet time together. We had groceries delivered at first, then she did the shopping when all the criteria were established at our local grocery store. We agreed that my risk for Covid was much higher than hers, so she became the designated shopper. Not much else was open for business those initial months, so we did a lot of online shopping (mostly for books!). Thank Goddess for the essential workers! After a while, and with the acquiring of a variety of masks, I started to feel more comfortable going out in the world - grocery shopping, and library and Powell's book pickups (still curbside) were the extent of my outings, until recently. And taking Liza out for her scoots. She's been quite happy to have us home more.

The changes to my routine have been small, but significant. I joined a group of writers in March 2020 (led by the incomparable Kate Gray) for a daily morning meditation and prompt followed by 20 minutes of writing, and the reading of the piece that contained the prompt. When the group came to a close at the end of April, many of us wanted to continue, so we now have an established, close-knit group that follows almost the same process. It's a wonderful way to start the day and to get back to writing. 

I extended the meditation piece and began my own mindfulness meditation practice, mostly using the Ten Percent Happier app. I've stayed with it for almost a year, doing morning meditation followed by my writing group. I feel so much more balanced than I did a year ago; I'm more patient, not likely to get upset (except about Republicans), and feel quite contented with life as it is. I'm still amazed that I get up by 7am every morning and wheel out to the cottage for my morning rituals. They have come to mean a great deal to me and to my well-being. Laurie likes to say that I "aced the pandemic!"

I read some fabulous books during the year. Some of my favorites were Braiding Sweetgrass, Hamnet, The Signature of All Things, Bring Up the Bodies, Caste, The Book of Longing, Homegoing, Mink River, and The Invention of Wings. It is lovely to be reading again. My focus is so much better, now that I'm meditating and not taking any more pain meds (besides ibuprofen). New mantra: Meditation, not medication! 

I'm now in the middle of an online writing intensive with Natalie Goldberg, with emphasis on intense! 2,000+ of us from all over the world gather on Zoom twice a week for her talks (Saturdays) and writing practice (Saturdays and Wednesdays); after her talk we go to small breakout rooms and read what we've written. I've been able to get down to some tender places, especially around disability issues. Natalie's style is to write nonstop - meaning not lifting your hand - for the specified amount of time in order to keep your Monkey Mind from interfering. No editing, no crossing out. I'm not always successful, but it is a good practice. I've also joined a small Portland group that sprang out of the class; we're meeting on Zoom for now, but hope to do in-person sessions once it is safe.

My May getaway spot

Laurie and I were both able to get vaccinated in February, which is a huge relief. We're starting to make plans for traveling a bit - including a drive to North Bend to visit Laurie's sister Charlotte and partner CJ. And I've scheduled a solo retreat to the coast in May, where I plan to write for four days. 

I have found it extremely difficult and frustrating to find fully accessible accommodations on AirBnB or VRBO. I think there is a great opportunity for people who could provide that. The places I've stayed in the last several years are not ADA, but have worked OK for wheelchair/scooter. It's a bit anxiety-producing to book a place and hope that it works out like the owner says it will. I don't require much (e.g. don't need wheelchair-height counters or roll-in shower), but it is nice to be able to get into and out of the place without assistance and get from room to room in my wheelchair.

I've been working with a yoga therapist this year - it's been a wonderful experience. As much as I balk at doing yoga in a chair (oh, I miss my robust yoga practice!) it really feels good to stretch my sedentary body. EB has also encouraged my creativity and my meditation practice. She even had me "dancing" to some funky music! 

I'm still enjoying photography - lots of gorgeous spring flowers and birds to photograph now. I just ordered a new camera! one with a powerful built-in zoom, so I don't have to carry extra equipment and will be able to get some of those shots that have been inaccessible to me. I hope it arrives before our travels. 

Here are some local spring photos:

Camellia

Back garden

Egret, Fernhill Wetlands

Spotted towhee

Tiny daisies

I hope to write more on this blog in future. Hopefully there will be some rowing adventures coming up this spring and summer! Stay tuned.

Is it accessible?

[Caveat 1: I know there are other disabilities people struggle with that need to be addressed, but this is the one I know, so this is what you get!] 

[Caveat 2: I realize I've written about this before, but it's an ongoing issue and I still need to kvetch about it and remind people about it. Plus, here are some solutions!]

I sound like a broken record: "Is the venue accessible?" I ask every time I plan to attend a concert, workshop, meeting, party. Some people have gotten that question from me multiple times; now I just say, "You know what I'm going to ask." I admit to occasionally asking even knowing I probably wouldn't attend; it's my self-imposed mission to remind people that it's important to consider their venue choices in terms of access. I know it's not always easy to find a place that everyone can access; and I know that people often try and don't always succeed.


But I will tell you this: it feels rotten to be excluded from an event that I want to attend. 

I don't expect access to be the first consideration when people are planning events, but I do hope it occurs to them at some point, and even that it's fairly high on the priority list. 

Things have come such a long way from pre-ADA days. I can't imagine what it was like for people in wheelchairs before curb cuts and mandated accessible bathrooms and entrances to public buildings. But we still need to do better.

One of the reasons I'm not singing with my choir now (Aurora Chorus) is because of access. The rehearsal room is manageable, but certainly not ideal (and this is a State university building!). The room entrance is at the top tier of the choir risers/steps, and so I'd be stuck there, unable to get to a lower level to see and hear better and participate fully. It worked, sort of, when I was using a walker, though I'm amazed I didn't fall, hauling and bumping the walker up and down the steps. The concert venue they have used for the past six years or so - a church - is abysmal for people with disabilities, both for audience members and for performers. The stage is difficult at best and impossible at worst to access with a wheelchair. But thanks to the persistent efforts of the board and concert committee, the choir is changing venues, and they tell me that this one is accessible, so I may be returning in the fall. 

Something that will make that possibility even more doable is the wonderful wheelchair van we now have! I no longer have to wrestle with getting the scooter on and off the power lift, and I can now take the wheelchair out and about, not just the scooter. (More on this in the next post, coming soon.)

Having an event? Check it out!

Below is a checklist I devised of some things to consider when planning an event. Some of these will be N/A if your event is in a private home (but if there are too many N/As, consider changing venues!). These apply to wheelchair users but are also appropriate considerations for people using walkers or canes.

• Assistant: Is there someone - not the host - who can be a point person? Someone to connect with the wheelchair user to show them best access and check with them through the event? I have appreciated this so much when it happens; for example, Artichoke Music does it right! I felt downright pampered there when I attended a concert. 
• Location: Is the venue easy to get to by car or mass transit? How's the parking for a van with a ramp? Is it possible to save a parking spot or spots for wheelchair users or people who can't walk far? 
• Entrance: Are there steps? Even one step can make entrance impossible. If so, is there an alternate entrance? Make sure it's clearly marked and easy to get to. Another option: some mobility stores have ramps to rent.
• Seating: Will there be designated wheelchair seating? Some users are fine sitting in their chairs, others prefer to transfer to a "real" chair. Paths to seating need to be kept clear - free of equipment, cables, chairs, etc. 
• Bathroom/s: Are they accessible? This can mean a lot of things: doors need to be wide enough for a wheelchair; grab bars are mandatory in places that claim to be ADA compliant. If this is a private home, do the best you can to make it accessible. I can walk a short distance if I have sturdy things to hold on to, but not every wheelchair user can. If your bathroom isn't fully accessible, be sure to make that known.
• General flow: Is the event on more than one level? If so, is there an elevator? Are aisles and access routes clear and wide enough for a wheelchair or walker? If there are food tables and products for sale keep access open for wheelchairs and keep the table height low enough for a wheelchair user to see and reach the items - especially the chocolate! For a banquet-type setup with multiple tables, often the tables and chairs are too close together to allow a walker or wheelchair through. Do the best you can to create pathways so the user isn't confined to the perimeter. You may have to remind other participants to keep pathways clear.
• Signage: Have some good, legible signs to indicate where bathrooms, alternate entrances/exits, food and drink are. Make sure they're posted at a level that someone in a wheelchair can see easily.
• Emergency exit: It's not a bad idea to have a plan if it's necessary to evacuate someone who can't walk, especially if the event is on an upper level and the elevator isn't usable. Designate a few strong people who could potentially help someone down the stairs if necessary.

If you are the wheelchair user, it's always a good idea to call ahead of time to find out the particulars and to give the event host a heads-up to expect you and your chair. If they need to make any changes, they will appreciate having advance notice.

Well, that's one way to see the stage!

Big thanks to those of you who are already aware and doing much of this. Do you have ideas to add to this checklist? Please leave me a comment below or email me at ladyluck AT teleport DOT com. This is a team effort! Thanks!

Revenge of the Mobility Machines

I have been wrangling an electric scooter for some years now. It isn’t difficult, and it has allowed me to greatly expand my world from four walls to my neighborhood … and beyond.

Last year it became evident that I needed indoor mobility assistance as well. I jumped through all the necessary hoops and I untangled red tape with Medicare, and they sprang for one. They didn’t give me a choice or let me try out any of the buggies, nor did they give me much in the way of driving lessons when it was delivered. They just said, “Here’s your chair,” and left me to figure it out.

I have wrestled with this chair for a year and a half. The nice thing about the scooter is it has a short wheelbase and I usually have plenty of space to maneuver it. The Chair has a very long wheelbase (three sets of wheels!) and, though it turns on a dime, it takes a damn big dime to turn on. And it seems like anything that is within 50 feet of it will get caught under one of the wheels and dragged across the room until I notice that I’m trailing a grocery bag or a dog toy or a throw rug. Or that I've knocked something off of a table.

One of the hardest lessons to learn with the Chair has been to remember to turn it off, or at least put it in neutral when I’m doing something that requires bending over the front of the chair. If it’s on and I lean on the joystick, The Chair will go places I do not want it to go. Often I’m close to a cupboard or piece of furniture and the forward motion will bang me into it. Fortunately, so far, it hasn’t involved running over children or pets or flying off of a porch.

The other day I was attempting to do a juggling act with both mobility devices. I had taken Liza for her scoot and needed to exchange the scooter for The Chair to go back in the house. Because the cottage remodel has begun, there is construction material in the courtyard. And we just had a million inches of rain, so there was a great deal of mud in the area.

I moved The Chair to get my scooter into its parking spot. I tossed the rain cover onto The Chair and it landed on the joystick – off goes The Chair, all on its own, headed for the mud and the visqueen and the new construction. Luckily, it got stuck on a metal border and sat there spinning all six of its wheels.

In the meantime, I had been moving the scooter by holding the accelerator and handlebars and walking beside it. I must have startled when The Chair took off; I didn’t let go of the scooter (which would have stopped it) and it flung me into the mud and onto a pile of wooden stakes (pointy side down, whew!). I sat there for a minute, checking my extremities and hips, then started yelling for Laurie to “Help!”  (No, don’t say it!)  “Laurie, I’ve fallen….  (No!) … and I can’t (No! No! No!) get up!” (Aaaaarrrrgghh!) The truth is, I hadn’t tried, but I was in such a state I convinced myself that I couldn’t.

After a couple of minutes, I heard a man’s voice: “I’m coming!” Our neighbor Chris is a pretty amazing guy, always willing and able to help. He came over and lifted me up (not an easy task!), checked for injuries (he’s also a nurse), and then rescued The Chair that was still on the loose (but still stuck on the border). After he was sure I was basically OK, he finished the wrangling of the machines, and I was merrily on my way. 

Laurie (who hadn’t heard my pleas for help) asked me, after she made sure I was OK, “Where was your phone?”  “In my pocket.” It hadn’t occurred to me to call her, not that she could have dropped three babies to come to my rescue. But she could have shouted words of encouragement!

I was not seriously injured, but have some lovely bruises and not so lovely sore muscles. 

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Well, here’s some really good news!  We are the recipients of a very generous gift from some dear friends – money for a van that will be equipped with a ramp so I can wheel right into it. This will make areas of our lives so much less complicated. I’m chuffed! And extremely grateful to amazing friends!

Not this one ... but I like the color!

Part Three: A Year in the Life

Seattle adventure earns a 9.5 for accessibility.

In July, Laurie and I took the Amtrak to Seattle for an uncharacteristic weekend of theater and art. When we found out last winter that the musical Fun Home would be in Seattle, we started making plans to see it. If you’re not familiar with the musical, it’s taken from the brilliant Allison Bechdel’s graphic memoir of her early life growing up in the family’s funeral home with her closeted gay and depressed father and melancholy mother. It’s funnier than that sounds, but poignant, too. The musical got great reviews and won some Tonys.

The Access for All sign refers to a WA ballot measure for LGBT rights.

And you can’t go to a city like Seattle and just see a musical without doing some other sightseeing.

Our weekend started out on a bad note when the taxi we’d reserved for 7a.m. Saturday to take us to the train station failed to appear. We probably would have gotten a taxi if we hadn’t needed a wheelchair van – apparently they don’t have very many of them and, even though I’d reserved it, someone else got to it first. We had to take a later train and to be sure we got to the station this time, we took the bus downtown – we probably should have done that in the first place!  Fortunately, our theater tickets were for the Sunday matinee so we didn’t miss out on that! And yes, the taxi company got an earful. What does the word ‘reserve’ mean to you??

Getting on the train was pretty easy - they have a mini-elevator that lifts me and the chair right into the car. Maneuvering in the car is a different story, as there isn't much room. It would have been better in business class, but since we had to take a different train, we had to go coach. 

I’d decided to splurge on a nice hotel in the heart of downtown. Almost everything was within easy wheelchair/walking distance. When we checked in, the clerk said they hoped it was OK that they’d upgraded us from a regular ADA room to a deluxe one, and to please let her know if it didn’t meet our needs. It was a corner room on the top floor with a great view of downtown, Mt. Rainier, and Elliot Bay. Yes, that’ll do! The room was huge and beautiful, just right for a much needed afternoon nap.

Sunday was a full day. We hopped (OK, I rolled) on the monorail which to my surprise and delight is fully accessible. I’m pretty sure the last time I was on the monorail was at the 1962 world’s fair. One nice thing about it, you can’t miss your stop, as there’s only one – it travels from downtown to the Seattle Center (right under the Space Needle) and back again. I had a moment of panic when we arrived and the door opened to a six-inch gap between the monorail car and the platform. But the conductor was there in a flash with a ramp for negotiating the gap.

We’d come to the Center to visit the Chihuly Museum of Glass. Wow. What a master artist! I was brought to tears a couple of times by the beauty. I’d only seen small pieces of his before, so to see the larger ones full sized in real life was overwhelming. I was so grateful for the ease of rolling through the museum. And the garden! (what could be better than Chihuly art? Chihuly art in nature). Maybe one day I’ll own one. (Does one ‘own’ art? Or is it simply borrowed?)

We’d planned to see Yayoi Kusama’s “Infinity Mirrors” at the art museum after hearing such wonderful things about it. But a couple of reviews cautioned about not only the long lines to get in but the moving lights that could set off Laurie’s vertigo and a couple of ‘rooms’ that were viewed from a platform that I could get up to just fine, but would probably have to back down a ramp, a skill I’m not very comfortable with in the wheelchair. So we decided to nap instead.

Fun Home was fabulous. I think I loved it more than Laurie, but we both enjoyed it thoroughly. I was especially impressed with the youngsters in the show.

I had purchased wheelchair seating, which was great (and half price!) except the location in the theater was less than perfect. We were close to the front, but way over to the side, stage left – we missed some of the visuals, which is unfortunate. I don’t think we missed much, but it’s a mystery why they can’t make every seat with 100% view of what’s happening on stage.

We met a couple of friends for dinner after the show - another easy roll/walk from the hotel. It was a lovely way to end the night.

Monday morning: We couldn’t leave Seattle without doing the Pike Place Market, which was just a few blocks from our hotel. We were greeted by this enthusiastic crew of fishmongers. Even though it was crowded, it was pretty easy to get around, though there is a lot of uneven ground, especially just outside the main market area. I had to navigate pretty carefully on cobblestones and dirt berm.

One final stop before heading for the train station: Seattle Public Library, downtown branch – across the street from our hotel. What an amazing bit of architecture! Except for the colorful escalators, it’s completely accessible; in fact there’s a spiral ramp that goes on for five or six floors in a very gentle slope.  I’m often not fond of ultra-modern architecture, but this is a very impressive building. Maybe it’s the reflective surfaces that make it seem welcoming rather than cold and impersonal like some modern buildings do.

It was a jam-packed weekend and a roaring success of a trip. If it hadn’t been for the taxi fiasco, I’d give it a ten for accessibility success! And that part happened in Portland.

Next: an upcoming accessibility makeover of the cottage and a few odds and ends.

A Year in the Life

Terri

Another year gone. Another year without a blog post. It’s not that I’ve had nothing to write about; on the contrary, I have so much I might break this up into three or four posts. And I’ll jump around the timeline, so if you’re OCD and can’t bear the thought of that, you should stop reading now!

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When we last saw our intrepid crusader, she was lamenting the inability to travel back in time to re-live her childhood beach trips.

I celebrated my 67^th birthday last week, though “celebrated” is a bit too grand for what really occurred. I “acknowledged” it or “gave it a nod.” What I did celebrate, quietly but joyfully, was being cancer-free for 16 years. (For those who are new to this blog, I discuss that part of my journey thoroughly in the first few posts.) Though cancer treatments have left me with some disability, I feel extremely blessed to have survived with most of the essential me intact.

Others in my circles have not been so fortunate. This year I’ve lost several friends to this fucking disease, and several more have been newly diagnosed. I’m angrier than ever now that environmental protections are being stripped by this insane administration when so clearly our high rate of cancer and auto-immune diseases results from the toxic mess we’ve made of our air and food and water.

“Wow,” you say, “it only took her two paragraphs to get into a T.R. (Trump rant)!” This year has been one of a lot of anger, disbelief, despair, and desperation, so I’m never very far away from a T.R. I am getting lots of fine muscle exercise: for my neck by vigorously shaking my head constantly; for my facial muscles from dropping my jaw and gritting my teeth (I haven’t done very well with holding my tongue); face-palming is good for circulation and eye-rolling for eyesight.

One of the more active roles I played this year was to coordinate mobility assistance for people with disabilities to participate in the Women’s March in January. I was able to procure some wheelchairs for people who wanted to march but weren’t able to walk the route (thanks to Kara Ford and to the MS Society). The event was difficult to manage and not everyone had their needs met, but those who did expressed so much gratitude that accessibility was considered and attempted. We might have been more successful if it hadn’t rained bucketloads and if we’d had smaller crowds – though I’m not complaining that around 100,000 people showed up to express their disapproval of this mockery of a president and to affirm the power of women!

And speaking of politics and the stripping of regulations, please pay attention to this bill before Congress and urge your Congress critters to vote ‘no’ on it.   ADA Education and Reform Act of 2017 (HR620)

“A new piece of federal legislation would delay consumers’ ability to hold businesses legally accountable for failing to comply with the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) — a move that some critics say could allow companies to never comply with the ADA in the first place.”

Let’s not make it even more difficult for wheelchair users and other disabled folks to access businesses.

SE Salmon east of SE 37th

And, speaking of that! I’ve been on a quest to document areas in my neighborhood that are difficult – even dangerous – for wheelchairs and scooters (and strollers) to drive over because of severe bumps – usually caused by tree roots or degraded sidewalks – or the lack of curb cuts. I’m surprised how many there are in this progressive neighborhood – but it’s also an old neighborhood so I suppose that contributes to the problem. If I come to an intersection without curb cuts, sometimes I have to go an extra block to find a safe place to cross, or risk driving in the street. I’ve been traveling with my camera and when I encounter an obstacle, I photograph it and jot down the address or intersection. I’ll be sending my first batch to the city this week. I realize that fixing them is a budgetary concern, but so is paying out a whopping lawsuit if someone injures themselves on a poorly maintained sidewalk.

Here’s an update on my love/hate relationship with my power wheelchair. I love that it saves me so much pain and allows me to go places I wouldn’t be able to otherwise. I love that it’s so maneuverable (turns on a dime!), it’s much easier to get on the bus and turn around. However, until we buy a van with a ramp, I can’t take the chair in the car. I hate that it’s so big and bulky; I still run into things, still catch things under the wheels and drag them around (like the bag that held my iPad that did not survive getting run over). I hate that all our walls and cupboards and doors have gouges from the chair scraping them.

And this: 

Oops.

(No humans or animals were injured in the making of this blog post. Kitchen utensils did not fare as well.)

Kwan Yin in the snow.

I had a taste of being completely housebound last winter when we had snow and ice on the ground for ten days. I couldn’t even safely go out on the porch for many days, and scooting anywhere was out of the question. It was a bit crazy-making. We still had toddlers coming four days a week, so I didn’t even have free reign of the house during the day.

I have much more to catch up on in the world of access, but you need a break and I need a nap. Next post, I’ll tell you about my writing retreats and project, a couple of wonderful trips we took (Seattle and Manzanita), a big remodel project in the cottage, and some new babies! And what about music you ask? Stay tuned. (See what I did there??)

How can I keep from singing?

Our choir (Aurora Chorus) sang two concerts last week, titled Grace Before Sleep. We’ve been preparing for this since September with weekly rehearsals, extra section rehearsals, a weekend retreat, endless memorizing and learning foreign language diction (Norwegian, Hebrew, Swahili, Spanish). It is a huge commitment, this choir gig – a commitment of time, energy, love. I know what I’ve signed up for; I know it’s challenging and exhausting; I know it’s a test of my mettle.

That's me, center stage, singing Mata del Anima Sola. 

I've written about the courage I need to muster to participate in these concerts. This one was no different. Singing a solo and accompanying a song on guitar in both shows required me to make my way to the front of the stage and back (with assistance) four times. I feel very conspicuous during this transition time, cane in one hand, gripping a sister singer with the other, trudging slowly and clumsily. So it did not help that I miscalculated and went upstage one song too early! When I realized what I'd done, it didn't make sense to struggle back to my seat and then move up again, so I sat there center stage through one whole song! Awkward!

And in spite of all the difficulty, I sang and played well, the audience seemed to like it, and it felt good to be able to do, once again, the thing I love so dearly. I am supported so completely by the other choir members, not just during my solo, but all term, whether it's negotiating the stairs in our rehearsal room or schlepping my guitar, there is always a hand or two at the ready to help.

It was not an easy day, though. The venue we've been using is wonderful for acoustics and aesthetics, but it sucks for accessibility - especially, like on this day, when one or both of the elevators are out of service and I have no choice but to use the stairs (with help, of course).

I've had to make a hard decision to not sing in this venue any more, after our March concert. It will break my heart to not participate, but it adds too much stress and physical strain to deal with flights of stairs in addition to the demands of stage movements and, well, just getting there! It's also not very good will for our audience members -- had I been attending this concert and been forced to use the stairs, I don't think I would have stayed. I have been in dialog with the chorus coordinators, and they get it and are taking steps to improve the situation. It has taken longer than it should have, however -- this is an issue that has come up over and over in this venue.

And it was a battle I did not want to take on for Grace Before Sleep. 

Photos by Kathryn Kendall.

I Love to Go A'Wandering

Today we’re celebrating Liza Day (2 years ago today, Liza came to live with us) – so we went for a hike! OK, a walk. OK, Laurie and Liza and our friend Emma walked, and I scootered. Still. It was a milestone since I haven’t done anything like this for a very long time. Getting out in nature is something I miss a lot, and it was nearly impossible B.S. (before scooter). Now we have to scout around for trails that are fully accessible (paved is best, gravel is OK, dirt won’t do at all if there’s any mud or mushy parts), but they are out there!

The Banks-Vernonia State Trail is part of Rails-to-Trails Conservancy, “a nonprofit organization based in Washington, D.C., whose mission it is to create a nationwide network of trails from former rail lines and connecting corridors to build healthier places for healthier people.” It’s a beautiful trail, relatively flat, cutting through farm land, wild flowers and forest for 21 miles (we did about 4), about 8 feet wide and paved with asphalt. It’s a great trail for family bicycling, walking and scootering.

I did have to make a few phone calls and had an email exchange last week with the parks ADA liaison because the rules specifically stated that electric scooters weren’t allowed on the trail - but motorized wheelchairs were - which made no sense to me. I got it sorted out - got permission to use it there and the manager said he'd get everyone on board with the policy. I’m quickly learning to advocate for disability issues and for myself.

Liza is doing a pretty good job of walking with the scooter. I thought we might need some special training, but she does well at avoiding the wheels and often trots right along beside me. Other times, she makes like a sled dog and “pulls” me down the trail.




If you have suggestions about accessible trails in the tri-county area, would you let us know please? We'd love to do more meandering this summer and fall!

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