When I moved to Colorado from Scotland in 1998 with a newly-framed degree in Travel Journalism, I was jaded in thinking that I would immediately be accepted by magazine editors world-wide. Although I was well-traveled compared to many my age, I was vermillion green compared to my competition. When I saw an advertisement in the local Steamboat Springs paper for new-hire training at a travel agency I jumped on the idea thinking it would educate me on the world I wanted to write about.
During my two years at this mom-and-pop agency, I met Craig. Craig and his brother came in one day asking about a trip to Hawaii for the Millennium Celebration. The travel agency was a buzz already with Millennium trips; people wanting to go somewhere exciting for the last party of 1999. What they didn’t realize was that these trips were getting nearly impossible to book. Places were booking up solid and charging exorbitant prices accordingly. Craig and his brother had an added difficulty that I wasn’t used to: Craig was in a wheelchair. When I began calling about accessible condos in Maui or Oahu, over the busiest week the travel industry had ever seen, I was laughed at. Little did I know then that Hawaii was barely accessible at the time anyway.
Although Craig and his brother never made it to Hawaii, there was a much deeper reason for our introduction in travel. We started dating and traveling together about 15 months later in the summer of 2000.
Craig’s wheelchair didn’t affect the growth of our relationship, but it certainly changed my outlook on travel. In early 2002, I began researching for a trip to Alaska for Craig’s 30th birthday. I had switched jobs, and was no longer at the travel agency, but still had high hopes of becoming a travel writer. I spent more time researching than writing at this point, and therefore was well prepped to spend many weeks online and on the phone studying access in the Last Frontier. This was the trip that opened our eyes.
We wanted to stay in Bed and Breakfasts, take wildlife cruises, take a flight-seeing trip through Denali, and go kayaking. Nearly all of which were hard to find accessible options for. Nearly. The options weren’t 100% accessible, but we were told they were close. And they were right. One B&B had a ramp, but it wrapped around the entire exterior of the home, to the back door, over a six inch threshold, and through the dining room to our bedroom. Doable, but certainly not ADA. At the others he had to push up a steep driveway or shower with his feet hanging out of the stall, but since we were still young, adventurous and flexible, that was fine.
We found similar, partial access on the cruiselines, such as the wheelchair seating only on one side, limiting Craig’s view by 50%. The captain of one tour kept turning the boat around for him, which made Craig feel like a rock star, although the rest of us left the boat dizzy. The ferry to the small artist island of Halibut Cove near Homer was completely inaccessible. Craig was lifted into the boat anyway, and off we went. The island itself was one long boardwalk into studios and a restaurant, so once we were there he had more fun rolling around the place than I did.
Finding a kayak outfitter was the hardest part of my research. The rest; the lodging, the cruise lines, the various stops to animal parks and national parks; was all fairly easy to research online with pictures and descriptions and the occasional wheelchair logo indicating that at least they’d thought about travelers with disabilities. Even Denali National Park had lifts on their buses. But call after call to kayaking outfitters left me depressed. No one would take Craig, despite what I told them about his abilities. A T-12 paraplegic, Craig had all his stomach muscles, skied 80 days per winter, and was used to asking for help when he needed it.
Finally I found someone that would take him. Alaska Sea Kayakers out of Whittier, sounded excited to try it, even though they never had. They outfitted both of us in a tandem kayak along with our friends we were visiting from nearby Girdwood, and off we went with four guides for six hours. They even helped get Craig onto the sand bar island for lunch, and the memory of that day has stuck with us five years later.
When we came back from Alaska with all the stories of how much we’d had to adapt and all the research we felt was worth sharing, we knew we needed to write books. Nobody had been dedicated enough to do this research yet. Nobody had seemingly found this niche. We decided to start with Colorado because we were both working full time jobs and it would be easy to research on short trips, and we began contacting publishers almost immediately. It took us nearly three years to research the entire state, but with my experience in travel and Craig’s experience with activities as the head concierge at the Sheraton Steamboat Resort as well as his obvious experience of living and traveling in a wheelchair, we made the perfect team.
Within six months we’d landed a book deal with Fulcrum Publishing, a company that specialized in western outdoor guides. We released Access Anything: Colorado in July of 2005. We included all 55 state and national parks, all 10 adaptive programs, 9 based at ski areas and one based out of Denver, and we did exponentially more research on lodging and dining than we’d done for Alaska.
But as we toured the book around we began to realize that the country might not be ready for this idea. There were few other people writing about it, and only one company- the Open Doors Organization (ODO) out of Chicago- researching it. Although people with disabilities spend over $13.6 billion a year on travel, it seems to be to the safe, well known places that cater specifically to this crowd. Cruise lines, Las Vegas, Florida, New York. . . these were the trips that ODO was documenting.
We felt like we were at the beginning of a long road, an exciting but bumpy road, that we would have to help pave, and indeed we have. After the release of Colorado, Fulcrum suggested we write another book, back-stepping somewhat to do an educational book that would be more of an encouragement than the resource that Colorado was.
Craig was mid-stream in a series of motivational interviews with world-renowned adaptive athletes when the second book took form. The interview series was called “I Can Do That,” and we thought this would be the perfect title for a book of the same motivational genre. We condensed the six best interviews of the series, and began researching more on sports, recreation, and travel. By the end of 2006 we had completed our second book.
Now, whenever we travel to expos in other states with our Colorado book, we’re constantly asked questions like, “When are you going to do a New England book?” Our answer is always, “Soon!” In fact, we’re currently working on New England, mostly because Alaska and Hawaii aren’t quite ready for us, and California has much of their accessibility information online. But the rest are soon to follow!
Most exciting for us was where the guidebook series led us. Almost immediately upon releasing Colorado, Craig was asked to speak at expos and to tourism boards and conferences on marketing to travelers with disabilities. We found that without marketing to this niche, you’re not going to get much of their business, and felt it important to educate on this subject. Although we had realized that there was a need for this education and awareness, there were few out there doing it. Speaking on this topic soon led to others, and attending expos led to introductions into this vast world of products for people with disabilities. The networking in this industry has been imperative for us, connecting with other companies that are paving the same road in different ways, meeting editors of magazines who need writers to talk about travel from the experienced prospective, and learning about new products, tools, rights and more that have made our travels even easier.
There are still few out there who are helping to pave this road, but the list is growing. We have met some wonderful likeminded companies that have helped us spread awareness about this industry, and a few who have been doing it long before we came along. Such as the Society for Accessible Travel and Hospitality (SATH), Disaboom, and the many disability related magazines who are making the world a better place to travel and live in for people with disabilities.
Our current projects include a travel column in Palaestra Magazine, accessibility consulting for the Steamboat Ski Area, press trips to places like Myrtle Beach, organizing an Adventure Travel panel for the 2008 Society for Accessible Travel and Hospitality (SATH) World Congress, and our own local snow ski and water ski camps in Steamboat. At first we just wanted to complete one guidebook, and now the sky is the limit! If you never let go of your dreams, eventually they come to fruition.
www.accessanything.net;
www.andreajkennedy.com;
www.ckconsultingonline.com
Want to read more about accessible traveling? See To Become a Successful Disabled Traveler: Remember, There’s No Place Like Home.
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