UMD Presentation

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Hello University of Maryland students! My name is Amy Denton-Luke, my pronouns are she/her, and today I'll be talking about accessibility in the outdoors, and how I evaluate and review outdoor spaces.

Some quick background information on me. I am very fortunate to live and explore in western Montana, on the ancestral lands of the Salish and Kootenai peoples. I'm a huge outdoors lover, and I am physically and cognitively disabled. I have a chronic illness that causes chronic pain, fatigue, and cognitive dysfunction, as well as mobility issues so I am also a forearm crutch user. About a year ago, I started an Instagram account, blog, and YouTube channel called Disabled in the Wild where I share my experiences with exploring the outdoors with chronic illness and disabilities, and I'm starting to become somewhat of a disability advocate.

One of the projects I did last year was review 23 outdoor spaces in my area after being inspired by Syren Nagakyrie's work at Disabled Hikers. So I have personal experience in both facing barriers in the outdoors as a disabled person, and in evaluating and reviewing outdoor spaces for other disabled folks.

So today I'll start with a few general facts about disability that I think give helpful context for this discussion, then I'll talk about what accessibility means in the outdoors, and give my step by step process for reviewing outdoor spaces. I'll also share a few examples of barriers that I have faced in the outdoors to give you a better understanding of how certain issues might affect disabled people, and finally, I'll end with a few extra points and guidelines for writing about outdoor spaces.

Quick Disability Facts

Some people are surprised to learn that disabled people want to explore the outdoors, but I always like to remind folks that disabled people are just people, and some people enjoy being outdoors!

Disability just means that a person struggles with one or more daily functions, that's it. It doesn't mean a person is wholly incapable of doing anything at all.

There are many types of disabilities that affect different parts of the body and different daily functions- with varying degrees, shades of gray, strengths and weaknesses, good days and bad.

Some people use wheelchairs, forearm crutches, canes, and walkers, but the vast majority of disabled people don't actually use a mobility aid. About 80-90% of disabled people do not have a visible or apparent disability. Some folks are deaf, or blind. Some folks have fatigue or pain, or struggle with balance or muscle weakness. Some have heart or respiratory conditions, or digestive disorders. Some folks have cognitive or intellectual disabilities. Some have anxiety or PTSD, or multiple chemical sensitivities.

So the term disabled covers a huge range of things. Each disability and every disabled person is different, so their access needs are going to be different as well.

Disability is not a black and white thing and neither is accessibility. Just like "disabled" doesn't solely mean wheelchair user, accessibility doesn't solely mean a paved path.

Accessibility in the Outdoors

When we're talking about accessibility in the outdoors, that can mean all kinds of things. Because accessibility means different things to different people with different disabilities, the goal of evaluating and reviewing outdoor spaces is not to go in and officially declare a site capital A accessible or 100% inaccessible. There's too much complexity and nuance for us to make that determination for other people. Instead, the goal is to gather information and present it as you found it, so that each person can decide for themselves if a site is accessible for them.

With that in mind, what information *do* we gather in outdoor spaces to help people determine its accessibility? The big categories include: parking, restrooms, paths, benches, signage, and some miscellaneous items. I'll explain what each of these entail, and what kinds of things that I look for as I'm evaluating and reviewing outdoor spaces.

Let's start with parking. Parking includes accessible parking and van accessible parking, where accessible parking is a single space and van-accessible parking has that protected additional space next to it. When I'm writing reviews, I like to include how many accessible spaces are available, and whether or not they are van accessible, since that's going to be an important detail for some people.

I also check if there's a clear path from the accessible parking to the entrance of the site, because on occasion there will be a curb with no ramp from the parking space onto a sidewalk, or there will be large boulders around a parking area to keep vehicles out, but sometimes the space between boulders may be too narrow for some folks to get through, especially with a wheelchair.

For restrooms, I include how many restrooms there are and where they are. Most places just have one or two by the parking area, but some sites will have additional restrooms farther in. I also check for steps and stairs or other obstacles that you'd have to climb to access the restroom. In my experience, the restrooms are usually ADA accessible and will be large enough to maneuver a wheelchair and have bars beside the toilet, so I double check that too. And lastly, I like to check the doors. Some doors are really heavy, and it can be very difficult to open a heavy door from a wheelchair or when you have muscle weakness.

Now let's talk about paths. Paths do not have to be concrete or asphalt in order to be accessible, they just need to be a firm and relatively smooth surface. So I always take notes on what type of material the path is made of, because each type of material has their pros and cons depending on the disabled person that is using them. For example, asphalt and concrete might be preferred by some wheelchair users, but for someone like me with chronic leg pain, hard surfaces like that are really hard on my body and cause pain flares very quickly. So dirt and natural paths are great for people like me, but dirt paths are susceptible to the elements, so they can have a lot of wear and tear with bumps and low spots that might become soft and muddy in the rain, where it could get slippery. Boardwalks can be great, but again, with wear and tear, there may be uneven boards that can cause a tripping hazard. Gravel is used quite a bit to make paths, but not all gravel is created equally. There's a large chunky type of gravel that gets used a lot around here that’s perfectly fine for most people, but it's very difficult to wheel through it when you're using a manual wheelchair- I know from personal experience. My favorite type of pathway material is a finely crushed gravel. It's somewhere between the size of sand and those little pebbles you put in fish tanks. It’s wheelchair accessible, while not being too hard on the body like asphalt is, and there won't be soft spots in the rain like with dirt paths, or have tripping hazards like boardwalks. It's also not an eye sore like concrete. I think we all want to feel immersed in nature and away from a concrete jungle, and so do Disabled people!

So taking notes on the type of material and the condition of the material is important. I also look for obstacles in the path, like tree roots and large rocks. I have seen rough transitions on and off bridges where there's a several inch lip, and at one place I visited there was an artistic diamond shaped piece of wood that sticks up off the ground several inches and intersects the trail multiple times. These are all potential tripping hazards, so it's good information to know in advance for people who maybe have low vision or are prone to tripping. Picking up your feet can be exhausting for some people, so it can actually change the difficulty level of a trail if there are a lot of obstacles.

I also take notes on stairs and steps, how many there are and where. I also look for hills and take notes on how relatively steep they are. Two things that I didn't do in my reviews that I wish I had done, that I later learned from Syren at Disabled Hikers, is measuring the slope of the hill and measuring the width of the path. But at the very least I would distinguish if a path is very wide at about 4 feet or more, or a narrow 18 inch game trail, or somewhere around the width of a sidewalk- about three feet wide.

Lastly for paths, I always include the distance from the parking area to the point of interest. Usually that information is available online or at an onsite map, but if I can't find that information anywhere else, then I will measure it on Google maps.

For benches, I count the number of benches along the path and note whether or not the benches have a back support on them. I also really like to measure the distance between benches, because this is personally my biggest access need in public outdoor spaces. For most of the places I reviewed, I was able to see the benches on Google maps and estimate the distance between them, but that doesn't always work, so the important thing is just noting the number of benches along the path and the total distance of the path, and maybe mention if the benches appear to be evenly spaced or if there's particularly long gaps between benches.

Accessibility can also mean having well marked trails. Are there signs that point where to go and maybe how far to the point of interest? Are there unmarked offshoots and splits off of the main path where someone could mistakenly turn and get lost? Are the signs in an obvious place and not tucked away behind vegetation or up on some tree? It's important that someone with cognitive issues like me won't get lost and confused, but also for someone with low vision to be able to locate those signs and navigate the trails on their own. There are actually some places that have signs with braille, so if you ever see those I would definitely take note of it.

So those are the big things that I am aware of: parking, restrooms, paths, benches, and signage, but I also wanted to mention a few miscellaneous items.

One of my biggest pet peeves is not that there is missing information online, but when there's incorrect information about a site online. So before I even go to a site, I look it up online and read what information is available, and get a general impression and form some expectations. Because then if something is obviously incorrect or misleading, I will notice it during my visit.

Other miscellaneous details I include as I notice them: any strong smells, like if a hiking trail is next to a landfill. If there's particularly loud noises, like a state park that's right next to a shooting range or a highway. If it's a popular site with big crowds, especially if there's not a lot of room to move around. I've also taken notes on signs that warn about wild animals or toxic algae.

Really, just any additional details that I notice that might be helpful for someone to know beforehand. I try to keep as many people in mind as possible when I'm doing reviews. We obviously won't be able to predict the information that every person needs, but we can strive to do the best we can and gather whatever potentially necessary information we find.

I don't have any particular guidelines that I use. At least not yet- that will likely be changing in the next year. Let's just say there's some people working on some things that I can't talk about yet. But everything I know I learned from other disabled people talking about their experiences outdoors, organizations that share information on accessibility and ADA requirements, and honestly, I just happen to have a lot of personal experience with a lot of different access needs. In a weird way, I've been lucky to have so many health conditions because that makes it easier for me to point out potential issues with outdoor spaces. But that doesn't really help you all out when you're at a site trying to figure out what the heck you're supposed to be looking for, so I thought I'd share a step by step example of what I do, and give you somewhat of a checklist to make it easier to do your projects.


Step by Step Instructions:

Before You Go:

1. Search for information online. Check the forest service or other government sites, local community pages, blog posts, google reviews. Just get an idea of what information is out there and form an impression of what the site will be like. If there's a site map available, take note of the total walking distance and any facilities listed.

Arriving on Site

2. Parking: is there accessible parking? Is there van-accessible parking? How many spaces? Are there any obstacles from the parking area to the entrance of the site (e.g. large boulders, curb, etc)

3. Bathrooms: is there a restroom? How many restrooms? Is there a clear path from the accessible parking to the restroom (no steps or stairs)? Is the restroom ADA accessible (large area, bars beside toilet)? How heavy is the door?

4. Paths (Part 1): How wide is the path? What type of material is it (asphalt, concrete, boardwalk, dirt, fine gravel, chunky gravel)? What is the condition of the path (smooth and well maintained, low spots, bumps, unevenness, tripping hazards)?

As You Go Through the Site

5: Paths (Part 2): are there steps or stairs? How many? Are there hills? How steep? Is there an overall incline/decline/change in elevation or is it relatively flat throughout? Are there obstacles (tree roots, rocks, rough bridge transitions)?

6. Benches: are there benches along the path? How many? Do they have back support or is it the seat only? Are there any particularly large gaps between benches?

7. Signage: are the trails well marked (signs, arrows, distances)? Are these signs obvious and clear of vegetation? Are there unmarked offshoots and splits? Are there any potentially confusing areas?

8. Miscellaneous: Are there strong smells? Any loud noises? Is it a busy location? Are there crowds? Any signs about wildlife or potential dangers? Any other impressions of the area?

9. Take notes on the enjoyment of the site: what are the views from this location? What activities are available here? What is the vibe? Is it peaceful and calm? Is it interesting and educational?

After Your Visit:

10. Use Google maps to measure total distance of the paths if that information was unavailable online or on site, and measure distance between benches (if visible on Maps). If necessary, review any other information online and reflect on your visit. Have any site conditions changed (deteriorating paths, blocked entrances, etc, due to weather or wear and tear)?


Examples

Now let's talk about some examples.

In general, good examples of accessibility would include: multiple van-accessible parking spaces, a clear path from the parking area to the entrance and bathrooms, multiple ADA accessible public restrooms, a flat wide path free of obstacles going to each point of interest, no steps or stairs, or if there are stairs then there's also a ramp, any inclines and declines are gradual, benches with back support every 200-600 feet, and paths that are well marked with arrows to each point of interest.

And in general, examples of inaccessibility could include: no dedicated accessible parking, or accessible parking without any van-accessibility, large boulders that block the parking lot from the entrance, public restrooms that are no longer operational, or restrooms that have steps or stairs, a path that is very narrow and uneven with bumps and low spots, a lot of obstacles like tree roots and rocks, stairs and no ramps, unnecessarily steep hills, no benches along the path or benches that are a half mile apart, and zero signage- especially when there are multiple paths, splits, and offshoots.

So those are the types of things that we're looking for. Now I'll share some actual, real life examples that I have either personally been affected by or noticed when I was going through my reviews; things that could potentially be issues for some people that I would want them to be aware of beforehand..

And real quick, I just want to clarify- I'm not expecting every site to be perfectly accessible for each and every person. Again, there's just too many disabilities to know what every single person needs, and my goal is primarily to give people the information they need in order to have a positive experience at that location.

I'm also not expecting 20 mile hiking trails deep in the mountains to have flat paths and benches every 500 feet- that's obviously silly. What I'm talking about here are state parks, historical sites, wildlife refuges, forest preserves, certain areas in national parks- these are public outdoor spaces that are intended for use by the general public. And so I do have an expectation of equity in these places and I hold them to a higher standard. Disabled people should have equal access to these spaces- the same as anybody else.

So as I mentioned earlier, the thing I find most frustrating is not inaccessibility itself, but when there's incorrect or misleading information online that sets the expectation that a site is accessible, or more specifically, wheelchair accessible or ADA accessible, but in reality, it's not. A great example of this is a state park near me that the US Forest Service website lists as ADA accessible, but it has no accessible parking, no benches, and quite literally no trail; just an ADA accessible bathroom.

There's a popular nature trail close to town that is praised for being "accommodating to wheelchairs" because it has a fairly flat and wide trail. However, there is no protected van-accessible parking, just one tiny accessible parking sign that non-disabled people ignore and block by parking their cars on either side, leaving no way for a wheelchair user to get out of their vehicle to access that path. Plus no way to get to the restroom because then the path to the restroom is blocked too.

Every website and blog also claims this trail has "plenty of benches", but I had to find out the hard way there is no bench for the first half mile, and at best one bench per quarter mile after that. For comparison, that's about 4 times farther between benches than other sites I've visited. And this is the biggest issue I personally have with some outdoor spaces. There are sites that have zero benches, and I've had to leave some places much earlier than I expected or wanted because I didn't have anywhere to rest, or I hurt myself because the benches are so few and far between. And some people might say, “just sit on the ground!” And I do, but a. It gets tiring dealing with people staring at you all the time, and b. while I can get down on the ground and back up, not everybody can, and that's the point.

Another example is a wildlife refuge near me, that used to have a van accessible parking space in front of the entrance to the wheelchair accessible trail. Well, the spring flooding came through one year and absolutely destroyed the area between the parking and entrance, so now there's just this huge hole and mess of broken concrete and rocks in front of the entrance. It's been like that in the 8 years that I've been visiting, and on their website, there's no update or mention of this entire area now being inaccessible to wheelchair users. Conditions change, that's to be expected, but again, the frustration comes in when it's left like that for years with no fix and no update to that information online.

Inaccessibility and obstacles don't always have to be as big and obvious as a giant hole in the ground, sometimes it's something very small. There's a trail to a wildlife viewing blind in my area that has a narrow, maybe 24 inch wide footbridge over a creek that you have to cross to get to the site. For some disabled people, especially wheelchair users, this little detail renders the entire site completely inaccessible to them, so that's something that I would want to tell people about ahead of time, especially if they're driving an hour or two to get there.

It can be really frustrating finding out halfway through a site that it's not accessible for you, but especially when that site claims to be accessible and initially appears to be accessible. There's a historic site near me that has van accessible parking, ADA accessible restrooms, and what initially appears to be a mostly flat trail. Then halfway to the historic site, you cross a bridge, and on the other side, there's a hill coming down off of the bridge that is so steep that it would be difficult, unsafe, or maybe impossible for some Disabled folks to traverse by themselves. If Disabled people can't even reach the point of interest, then there's no point in even going there.

Many spaces have not taken Disabled folks into consideration, and some will make half-assed attempts at accessibility then don't maintain them.

Another example is something I personally experienced while visiting Glacier National Park in 2017. I was on one of their two allegedly wheelchair accessible trails in my wheelchair, and I ran into several steep 3 foot drops that were impossible for me to navigate alone, and I had to get help from my husband to lean the chair back and wheel me down slowly. After that, the trail became too narrow and too crowded to accommodate me in my wheelchair, so I could not make it to the waterfall that was allegedly accessible by wheelchair.

When something like this happens close to home, it's disappointing but you can try going somewhere else next weekend and it's not a huge deal. However, when you're traveling out of town or out of state, you only get one shot at picking places to visit based on information you find online, which as we've discussed is not always reliable.

On a trip to the Oregon coast in 2021, I visited a beach that people claimed was "accessible", but I showed up to find you have to first climb up and over a giant mound of sand in order to get to the "accessible" beach. I struggled over the sand mountain with crutches as about 100 people stared at my legs, so that was super fun. A couple days later we visited a hiking trail that I thought was within my abilities and my two mile maximum range. Reviews online simply said this trail was "easy", and failed to mention the more than 200 stairs on the trail you have to go up and down both ways, completely changing the difficulty level of the trail and my ability to safely hike it. I have to be extremely careful about choosing which trails to hike, because if I overdo it, my legs will just stop working. You don't want that to happen when you're a mile into the woods.

So disabled people can get physically injured as a result of incorrect information, but it's also just very disappointing and frustrating when you think you've found a site that's accessible for you and it's not, especially because this happens to disabled people over and over again. It makes you feel unwelcome and excluded and like you don't belong. And then to pour salt in the wound, I'll see descriptions online like, "this trail is so easy a child could do it".

So let's end with a few extra pointers and guidelines that I have learned about writing about outdoor spaces.


Extra Tips and Guidelines

1. Regarding Language:

Use neutral terms. As I just mentioned, using phrases like "so easy a child could do it" is not only unhelpful, but it doesn't feel good to read that when you're disabled. I understand what it's trying to communicate, of course, but easy and difficult are relative terms and everyone has different levels of ability. Instead, I would just directly state the facts. For example, "it's a flat, wide path, about .5 mile to the point of interest, with 4 total benches along the trail." That communicates it's an easier trail without placing values on those terms or judgements about people's ability level. And it includes more useful information.

Same with "plenty of benches", because the word "plenty" is going to mean something different to everyone. Instead, I would state "there are 4 benches total on this 1.5 mile looped trail. The first bench is .5 mile in on the west side of the loop, with the other 3 benches roughly every .25 mile after." Just very straightforward and matter of fact.

As for other language tips, use the term "disabled" instead of euphemisms like "differently abled" or "special needs". Disabled is not a bad word. For parking, accessible parking is the preferred term. Handicapped and handicapped parking is outdated and problematic. For some reason, when I did my reviews I kept calling it disabled parking, and I still need to go back and fix that. Learning is a neverending process, so if you're not sure what the appropriate terminology is for something, I would just Google it and read what disabled people have to say about it.

2. On Writing:

Remember the point is simply to present the information as you found it so that each individual can decide for themselves what's accessible for them. Be detailed, neutral, and matter of fact. There's no need to make grand claims about a site's accessibility. Just describe what you see.

Know that you will forget to look at certain details. It's a lot to keep track of, and we're not going to be able to think of everything on the spot. It's also possible you just won't be able to answer certain questions at certain locations. So if you forgot something or didn't notice something, just leave it out. No need to try to fill in the gaps and guess at anything.

3. On gathering info:

Take pictures of everything. From the moment I arrive at a site, I'm taking pictures of the parking, bathrooms, paths, obstacles. It helps a lot to have those photos as you're writing your reviews. If you forget something, you might be able to see it in the photos. And if you decide to post this information in a public forum like google, then other people might be able to get the additional information that they need from your pictures.

In my step by step instructions, I mention taking notes on the enjoyment of the site, including views and activities, and to me, this is an important detail. Just because a site is accessible doesn't mean it's worth visiting. I think some people assume that disabled folks should just be grateful that there's a .1 mile ADA accessible trail that leads to basically nothing, because “hey at least it's accessible”. But disabled people deserve access to stunning views and a variety of recreation opportunities just like non-disabled people. So I like to provide that information as well, so people can decide if it's worth the money or 2 hour drive or the pain flare that comes after.

4. On disabled people:

Just a few last reminders about disability: a disabled person should be able to safely navigate the trail independently. If they need assistance, it's not accessible.

Don't make assumptions about what disabled people can or can't do. There are disabled people that can go on 10 mile hikes or more, so continue reporting on trail conditions throughout the site. Your notes could help a disabled hiker determine if that hiking trail is within their abilities.

And finally, I always like to remind people that it's not our disabilities keeping disabled folks from outdoor spaces, it’s the lack of accessibility.

. . .

So that's what I have learned about accessibility in the outdoors and how I evaluate and write reviews for outdoor spaces. I hope that was helpful information for your projects!

If you have questions, feel free to leave them in the comments here so that your classmates can benefit from reading my responses as well, but you are also welcome to email me at disabledinthewild@gmail.com.

I'm going to post this as a transcript to my blog, along with the checklist. I'll add some links in the description here.

Thanks for watching, everybody! Take care!