Road Trip with a Wheelchair: Lodging

I was really excited to explore the world of Motel 6 and accessible lodging.  Motel 6 was often the cheapest motel, and yet its status as a national chain assured some sort of standards.  Plus, as a result of a recent ADA settlement with the US Department of Justice, Motel 6 was forced to update its facilities, adding roll-in showers and the promise that if they didn't have an accessible room that slept two people, they would provide a second room free of charge.  Motel 6 seemed a great way to organize our road trip.  That optimism and enthusiasm lasted about 800 miles.  

Motel 6 in Spokane, WA

The first night we stayed at a Motel 6 in Spokane, WA.  It offered cheap, accessible ground-floor lodging in clean environs, with a wheelchair-height queen bed, a roll-under sink, toilet grab bars, and a roll-in shower.  Perfect! 

This lucky streak ended the second night, with the reminder that not all cheap motels are used by travelers.  We no sooner pulled into this urban Motel 6 than we noticed the people and activity in the parking lot, and we were quickly warned by the people leaving that they had observed 2 drug deals in their short time there, while checking out the rooms -- which they claimed had unwashed bedding.  Unfortunately, although there were several cheap motels in that neighborhood, they all seemed to have similar problems.  

Luckily, we were able to find an appropriate, cheap, accessible room in a nearby neighborhood, with the help of the Super 8 reservations agent.  Two lessons learned: 1. Never commit to a cheap motel until seeing it, and 2. Join a group like Wyndham Rewards (even though there were no accessible rooms at the Super 8 that I called, the agent was able to find me one at a nearby Howard Johnson's, because those  hotels are part of the same hotel group).

ADA Bathroom

The folly of my plans became more apparent along the road, as I learned that not all Motel 6's have ADA rooms, and, in fact, most cheap motels do not.  In fact, many cheap motels do not even have elevators, and ground-floor rooms were usually already taken by the time we rolled into town (generally around 9 pm).  

Roll-in Shower

Thus was dictated our usual routine: after dinner, we'd assess how far we thought we'd go that night.  While my husband drove, I poured over Google maps and Booking.com, trying to find cheap and available rooms for the night. Seldom were those rooms officially accessible, so I'd call around, asking for measurements or whether a wheelchair might be able to get into -- and maneuver around inside -- the room.  Of course, I'd have to provide a list of minimum requirements to answer this question, which changed with experience (ground floor, 0-1 steps, wide entrance door, space for the wheelchair beside the bed, and a sink I could access).  Often this would require the person to call me back, as they needed to measure and check.  Sometimes, they reached an incorrect conclusion, or it was simply unclear until we arrived and looked for ourselves.  

 

 

 

Using motel's plywood and
our portable metal ramp
to get inside Masterson's Motel

All of this was predicated on finding the local front desk number (rather than the off-site reservations number), which turned out to be quite difficult.  It also relied on the goodwill of the staff.  As my husband commented, the best people in the world are front desk clerks who like their jobs.  I would especially like to call out Jan at the International Motel in Calais, Maine, the woman at who found plywood for a ramp at Masterson's Motel in Napanee, Ontario, the concerned owners at the Village Inn Motel in Iron Bridge, Ontario, and the woman who pushed all sorts of food on me at the Day's Inn in Worland, WY.  The right person and attitude can sometimes make up for a non-accessible room.

 

 

Fairfield by Marriott has
ADA rooms

In retrospect, if you need a truly accessible room, it is probably worth it to budget for higher-priced cheap motels, such as Holiday Inn Express, Fairfield Suites, etc, where the ADA usually applies to at least one room.  This, of course, entails plotting your trip to ascertain that overnight stays happen where this is possible -- often suburbs or travel centers (truck stops).

Some cheap motels do
not have official accessible
rooms, but are accessible 
with creativity

Many of the places we stopped had no such options available.  However, we made it work, and we got to meet great people and motels that we otherwise would have missed.  Also, even the cheapest motels had microwaves, mini-fridges, coffee, ice, and internet connectivity.  

On the road, we almost always had phone connectivity, which was invaluable.  I can't imagine doing this without smart phones.  After the trip ended, I learned about a website that provides reservations for accessible lodging.  This seemed to me to be unbelievable gold, and I wish that I had known of it before the trip.   For the USA, and site is accessiblego.com, and for Europe, I found disabledaccessibletravel.com.    

Most of the time, we ended up staying in rooms that were barely accessible.  I came to expect to move furniture around.  I also came to expect to remove the bathroom door, since even those wide enough for a wheelchair were often wide enough only without the hinges.  Even so, I had to rely on the commode chair instead of a toilet and to forego showers many nights.

Fortunately, some of the units had sinks outside of the bathroom, so that the sink was accessible, even if the bathroom wasn't.   This was often the design that made an otherwise non-accessible room usable.

Here are some of the (accidentally brilliant) items we packed to make wheelchair life possible, even in non-ADA motels and rooms:

• Transfer board (a Hoyer Lift would be an energy- and back-saver, but it requires space under the bed)
• Screwdriver (often the bathroom door was too narrow with hinges on, so we removed door)
• Short (3') foldable metal ramp (to get over steps
• Self-propelling shower/commode chair
• Long shower chair to get over/in tub 
• Portable under-mattress bed rail
• Suction cup grab bars (warning -- they don't always stick!)
• Electric kettle (for instant meals)
• Dishes and dish soap
• Towel to put on chair after shower (some motels did't have enough towels for this)
• Wet wipes
• Washcloth
• Hair washing tray
• Dry shampoo
• Hand sanitizer
• Electric foot heater (to plug in while sleeping)
• Pillow (for car and for some motels)

Portable folding metal
ramp (3' length fits in car
and helps wheelchair
over 1-2 steps)

Self-propelling 
shower-commode
chair

Long sliding tub/shower chair

Under-mattress bed rail

Sometimes we got lucky and stayed in a motel with an ADA room:

Spokane, WA: Motel 6 -- ADA room with a low queen bed and an ADA bathroom with a roll-in shower

Pendleton, OR: Red Lion Inn --ADA room and ADA bathroom with a roll-in shower: it seemed like an older resort, which had passed its prime

Idaho Falls, ID: Fairfield Inn -- ADA room with a king bed and ADA bathroom with a roll-in shower

West Yellowstone, MT: Day's Inn -- Small town full of tourists, motels, restaurants, and souvenir shops. Motels were cheaper than those in the park (park lodges were $300+/night), but non-park motels were still pricey ($200+/night, $150+/night if no access to bathroom).  We didn't stay in an ADA room, since it was $100 more than our ground floor double-queen regular room, which worked.  There was a wide entrance door, with a big room and bathroom.  The shower/tub combo had a fixed shower head and no grab bars.  In the large bathroom was a low toilet with no grab bars. There was a large roll-under sink outside of the bathroom. There was an official ADA room, but it was $100 more expensive.

Billings, MT: Howard Johnson's -- ADA room and ADA bathroom with roll-in shower; big, old & moldy

Worland, WY: Day's Inn -- huge double-queen ADA room with 2 high beds. Big ADA bathroom, raised toilet with grab bars behind and on side, and tub with grab bar on side and hand-held removable shower head with long hose. The room had wide doors and a short ramp over the threshold of the outer door. There was a designated disabled parking space and flat curb access on the side opposite room 140. The roll-under sink was outside of the bathroom. There was a ramp to the outside picnic tables and grill, a ramp to the ice machine and to the laundry room, and a ramp to the main office, as well as lots of food and drinks.

Oacoma (Chamberlain ), SD:  Econo Lodge -- ADA room with a king bed and wide doors.  The bathroom was a bit grungy, and the sink was too low to get under, but the tub had horizontal and vertical grab bars, with a hand- held shower that slid down a vertical pole at different levels, and the toilet was high, with grab bars behind and on the side. The owners were very concerned.  Interestingly, the space between the dresser and the foot of the bed was almost too narrow, making it difficult to reach the roomy far side of the bedroom and the bathroom.

LaCrosse, WI: Holiday Inn-- ADA room with a king bed. and ADA bathroom with a big roll-in shower. They offered us a walk-in discount.

Sault Ste, Marie, MI: Hotel Ojibway -- ADA room with a king bed, wide doors, lots of space in the bathroom, tub/shower with grab bars and shower chair, and a roll-under sink.  There is just barely enough space for a  wheelchair next to the bed, and the toilet has no grab bars on the side. The room has slanted alcove ceilings with sky lights, and the hotel is next to the park and locks on the main street.

N Stonington, VT: Hilltop Inn -- ADA room with a king bed.  ADA bathroom with a roll-in shower that has a big threshold and a bench on the opposite end from the controls (even though shower hose reached).

Quebec City, Quebec: Best Western -- Disabled room with two queen beds (plenty of room beside bed). The main door is plenty wide; the door to the bathroom is wide enough, but it involves a tight turn. The shower has a hand-held shower, sliding shower head holder, and grab bars on wall. There are grab bars on the side of the toilet, where the seat is cut out in the front, and there is a roll-under sink.

Montreal, Quebec: We did not stay in a hotel with an accessible room, but I know that Cory Lee (who writes the blog, Curb Free with Cory Lee) has a suggestion on his website for the Hotel de l'ITHQ, which is located in the heart of Montreal.  Also, I saw a Fairfield by Marriott downtown, and I bet that has an accessible room.

Sudbury, Ontario: College Boreal Student Residence -- Two wheelchair-accessible suites, each with 2 accessible bedrooms (each with a twin bed), and with a kitchenette (full fridge, microwave, sink, and table). Each suite had 1 accessible bathroom with a raised toilet with grab bars, a floating sink, a tilted mirror, and a small roll-in shower with a fold-down bench and hand-held shower head.  The suite was cheap and spartan, with no carpet, in the dorm.  There is a whole series of dorms and conference centers offering rooms for summer travelers in Canada. The website is StayRCC.com.

Next week's blog: the trip begins!

Road Trip with a Wheelchair

2022 Road Trip
From Cape Flattery in WA state to W Quoddy Head in the state of ME, 
then up the Gaspe Peninsula of Quebec, following the St Lawrence River
west to the Great Lakes, crossing the border at Sault Ste Marie

This past summer, I took an epic road trip. 6 weeks and 9604 miles. 19 US states and 3 Canadian provinces.  Against the backdrop of the pandemic, we rarely ate inside restaurants, so the final count includes innumerable peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, supplemented with many just-add-water meals and not nearly enough French pastries.

From the Pacific Ocean (Seattle, WA)

To the Atlantic Ocean
(Stonington, CT)
in 5 days

What all these states have in common:
Wind turbines in corn fields

The trip was inspired by insanely high plane ticket prices, the death of a much-loved cat, a progressive disease, photos of Quebec's pastry shops, the pandemic, and the inability to decide what else to do.  The six-week trip was goal-posted by medical appointments, and the time frame was held firm by two family gatherings with distinct dates.  Therefore, this was not a leisurely, "explore America" kind of road trip, but rather one in which car travel was a means of reaching the next destination.  

West Quoddy Head Lighthouse in Maine --
Easternmost point in the contiguous US

Nevertheless, the destinations were spectacular -- family visits in CT and WI, multi-day vacations in Quebec City and Montreal, a respite in an off-the-grid Quebecois cabin, driving the upper Mississippi and the length of the St Lawrence Rivers, and exploring  Yellowstone National Park.  In addition to the multi-day destinations, we designed the trip to meet key geographical markers: the westernmost and easternmost points of the contiguous USA (Cape Flattery, WA and West Quoddy, ME). Even when traveling between destinations, we experienced amazing scenery, visited old friends, and discovered new locations and activities.

The Prius at the eastern-most
point of the trip,
in Quebec

The trip was also a victory for our 2006 Toyota Prius.  Approaching 200,000 miles and questionable operation, the car had already been driven to the Arctic Circle and beyond.  It had also been to the northernmost point of the contiguous USA -- the Northwest Angle of Minnesota.  So, we decided to see if the old car had a little more magic in her.  A mechanic checked her out and added a belt and brakes on Monday; we left on Tuesday.  With the addition of a secondary battery in NH and a new muffler (some dead animal got the old one) in CT, we were able to reach all of goals and complete the trip.

Big smiles at the start
(hopefully at the end, too)

The trip was made possible by a strong and willing husband.  He helped me transfer in/out of the car, put my wheelchair in the car, carry our luggage in/out of the motel rooms, and help me in uncountable ways in motels that were varying degrees of (in)accessible. I realize that not everyone has a "Ted" in her/his life.  For them, I still believe this type of trip is possible; it is simply more challenging and expensive -- requiring an accessible van (or else a light-weight wheelchair that can be lifted into a car) with hand controls, as well as significant and diligent planning to choose a route and lodging that are accessible.  Because of  time and money constraints, we did not have this luxury, and because of Ted we did not need it. Still, I was glad for the independence allowed by my transfer board (actually, I forgot the board, so I stopped along the way and bought an extra-large cutting board, which accomplished the same trick).  I wouldn't mind a portable Hoyer Lift for back-up security (backs do go out!) at some point.

Rain gear on the trail
at Yellowstone

I do not travel light.  Once upon a time, I traveled for a year with a backpack.  That is not now.  We wanted to bring our camping equipment in order to have a cheaper lodging option along the way, but that would have entailed a car top carrier to contain this equipment and countless additional hours of labor to set it up and take it down, so we left it at home.  We tried to take the minimal amount of luggage into the motel each night, but even minimal was a lot, and I was usually just lucky to get inside the room -- leaving one person to do all of the carrying.  Typically, this meant one personal backpack and roller suitcase for each of us, as well as one bag of medical supplies for me.  Unfortunately, because most of the motels we stayed at did not have accessible rooms, we also ended up bringing a lot of equipment to make lodging possible (see next blog). Because of the pandemic, the desire to save money, and the need to save time, we often ate in the motel room, meaning we also needed the cooler and a bag for food, dishes, all of our water bottles.  The rest was left in the car.

I dream of a van rigged out for camping, like the kids have.  Of course, mine would also be accessible, with a ramp. This van would have been ideal for this journey, providing cheap(er) and easier lodging (no search for lodging each night and no carrying luggage back and forth), a means of hauling a wheelchair, and accessible seating. 

Trails on the Gaspe Peninsula
in Quebec

Unfortunately, we still don't have this dream vehicle; but we do have the trusty Prius and a Fold N Go power wheelchair.  This wheelchair is great at handling distances and hills, drives by a joystick, folds up easily, has rugged tires with big casters, and is waterproof; however, it is heavy, doesn't fit me well without an extra seat cushion, and is dangerous when fighting slope and cross-slope simultaneously.  The jury is still out on their -- maybe fantastic, maybe horrible -- customer service.

Here is a list of some of the (accidentally brilliant) items we packed to make the road trip possible (For motel items, see the list in the following blog):

• Roho MiniMax inflatable seat cushion (to sit on in the car)
• Pillow and blanket (for the car and for cheap motels)
• Phone charger for cigarette lighter
• Folding metal ramp
• Wooden transfer board 
• Compression socks
• Tablet for all e-books
• Hand sanitizer
• Therabands and TENS/NMES kit for exercise
• Cooler
• Electric kettle to boil water
• Spoons, forks, and cups
• Dish soap
• Wheelchair and cushion repair kit
• Rain poncho, rain hat, and stadium blanket
• Pee bottle, for car
• Phone apps:
• Gaia (fee)
• NPS
• Accessiblego
• Booking
• AirBnB
• Yelp
• Libby
• Spotiify (fee)
• Kindle

The trip gave me fodder for several topics and posts.  The photos gave me all sorts of memories (thanks to Ted for taking most of the photos and for editing all of them)!

Seattle Arboretum Waterfront

 

Last year, the WA Trails Association (WTA) rolled-out a filter for “wheelchair friendly” trails on its online hiking guide. My friends and I participated in this project – hiking the trails, collecting and refining data, and publicizing results.

One of the biggest challenges was simply defining what was meant by “wheelchair friendly.” Usually taken as obvious and standardized, it is actually neither. For the WTA database, a “wheelchair friendly” trail was defined as a trail that any wheelchair (no matter what the type) is able to complete. In general, the starting point for guessing whether or not a trail is “wheelchair friendly” is based on the following criteria.

1. Is the trail – including the entrance and exit – barrier-free (no gates, stairs, or steps/rocks/roots over 3” high)?
2. Is the trail wide enough for a wheelchair (generally, at least 30 - 36”)?
3. Is the trail surface firm (not loose sand, dirt, or gravel) and comfortable (not too rocky or rutted) enough for a wheelchair and its seated hiker?
4. Is the cross-slope minimal enough for the comfort of a seated hiker?

The final answer, of course, is whether or not a wheelchair – any wheelchair – has actually hiked the trail.

This definition of “wheelchair friendly” means that any given trail will NOT be accessible to all wheelchairs, and it relies heavily on enough pertinent detail in each trail description to allow each individual hiker to decide whether or not this trail is feasible for them. This decision depends not only upon the trail and its features, but also on the individual hiker and their wheelchair. In addition, the accessibility of a trail can change over time, depending on weather and trail conditions and the hiker’s own energy. So, the final definition of whether or not a trail is truly “wheelchair friendly” is neither obvious nor standardized.

Since I am lucky enough to hike with a strong and spirited pusher, I can hike on some trails that can not be classified as wheelchair friendly by reason of some impediments, such as barriers or steps. This expands my hiking options, but I am mindful of the reality that my hikes are not always on technically "wheelchair-friendly" trails.

That was the case recently when we hiked the Foster and Marsh Island Loop of the waterfront trail between Seattle’s Washington Park Arboretum and East Montlake Park.

Waterfowl along 520 bridge

Inspired by a photo of an otter feeding in the water along this path, we set off on this trail in search of otters. We didn’t find any otters, but we did see waterfowl and wonderful views.

Designated parking at
E Montlake Park

The good news is that both ends of the trail have good parking and excellent views: East Montlake Park and the Washington Park Arboretum. At East Montlake Park, there is street, parking with a disabled spot and a ramp up to the sidewalk.

Path to water at
E Montlake Park

On the western edge of East Montlake Park is a short and mostly level path to the water 

Platform overlooking Montlake Cut at E Montlake Park

and a platform overlooking the spot where the Montlake Cut joins Lake Washington. (The trail continues along the cut for a little way, eventually running into the steps at the University Bridge.)

Bald eagle and nest at E Montlake Park

Near this platform is a tall tree with a large nest, above which we saw a pair of bald eagles.

Entrance to Marsh Island trail
at E Montlake Park

To the north and east, you can reach the trail to Marsh Island, either by the paved sidewalk above or by the dirt path below.

Foster Island

At the other end, at the Arboretum, you could either park in the paved lot up the hill or in lot #14 down by the entrance and the water.   A short traverse leads over a bridge from the mainland to Foster Island, which has mostly level, wide trails with firm surfaces.  

Construction under 520 Bridge

The only exception is the area underneath the 520 bridge, which is (hopefully temporarily) under construction and more difficult to maneuver.  

View from Foster Island

On the other side of the bridge, Foster Island boasts well-maintained trails, picnic tables, a small beach, and a view of Husky Stadium and surroundings.

The bad news is that the loop between the two parks is not truly accessible, requiring back-and-forth travel on city sidewalks, or perhaps 2 separate car trips, to see the views.  

Trail from E Montlake Park
to Marsh Island

The “boardwalk” bridge between East Montlake Park and Marsh Island is technically accessible, but there are 2 significant up-and-down steep points to allow canoes and kayaks below to pass through the bridge.  

Trail on Marsh Island

The well-marked nature trail on Marsh Island is also accessible, but the island itself is so close to the water that the trail can be wet and muddy.  Worst of all is the bridge between Marsh Island and Foster Island.  

Steps on trail between 
Marsh and Foster Islands

Along with the expected upward points to allow boat access below are unexpected steps, rendering this part of the journey inaccessible.

The views and proximity to the water are worth the trip, in my mind. But hikers with wheelchairs will probably want to make 2 trips with short hikes. The first trip would be to East Montlake Park (and maybe across the pointy bridge to Marsh Island and back) to see the Montlake Cut, the eagle pair, the waterfowl, and the views. The second trip would be to the Washington Park Arboretum at Foster Island to see the beach and views.

Is the loop wheelchair-friendly? I don’t think so – because of the steps on the bridge between Foster and Marsh Islands. Is the loop feasible for wheelchairs? Only with a lot of attitude and assistance. Is it worth it? Yes!

As an added bonus, we finished just before sunset, when hundreds (thousands?) of crows gathered in the trees.  Perhaps they were nesting there for the night, but Google seemed to indicate that this was a meeting point before migrating to the nightly resting spot.  We didn't stay long enough to confirm which was the true meaning of this gathering; either way, it was spectacular!

Crows nesting at East Montlake Park in trees before sunset

** Since that time, I have seen that the floating bridge connecting the trail to the land at East Montlake Park is a few inches underwater, necessitating getting muddy and wet.  However, I have also seen online reports that the trail is scheduled to undergo re-strengthening and rebuilding in the summer of 2023.

Participation: Kicking Horse wedding

Riding the gondola at Kicking Horse Resort in
Golden, BC (Canada)

Many of my friends love skiing.  Some are so obsessed that they talk of nothing but snow reports as soon as the temperature drops below 50 degrees.  Several of them volunteer with the alpine ski program at Outdoors for All - an organization which offers outdoor adventures to people with disabilities.  It is through my own participation in this ski program that I re-discovered active outdoor life post-wheelchair, leading me to the discovery of other outdoor adaptive adventures and a re-definition of my self-identity.  It is also through this organization that I have met good friends and that I have been able to participate in the ski culture and its discussions prevalent in the Pacific Northwest.

Mountain top wedding at
Kicking Horse Resort

One of these ski-loving friends recently married another ski-loving person, and they aptly exchanged their wedding vows on the top of a 7700 foot mountain at Canada's Kicking Horse Mountain Resort.  

Chalets and lodges at 
Kicking Horse Resort

The mountain-top ceremony was followed by a reception in a chalet at the 3900 foot base.

The way from the gondola
to the wedding terrace

In order to reach the ceremony, guests rode up on the resort's gondola and crossed a swath of snow to reach the restaurant terrace.

In order to reach the reception, the majority of guests donned skis and followed the newly-married couple down the mountain to the reception in the chalet at the base.  About 50 people skied together for nearly 4000 feet down the catwalk and headwalls of the green runs.

I am overwhelmed by the amount of detailed planning that must have gone into this weekend, as well as by the number of people who showed up and and joined the ski procession down the mountain from the ceremony to the reception.  Although the "how" was vague to uncertain until the last minute, with help and creativity, I was able to participate in this amazing weekend.

Waiting for the gondola
on the Dynamique,
on top of the dolly

A major part of my participation was the equipment.  I rented a Dynamique sit ski from Outdoors for All in Seattle, and they included a dolly to transport it.  I transferred from my wheelchair to the sit ski at the lodge's main patio behind the locker room, from where Ted pushed me to the gondola.  At the gondola, the liftees helped me ski onto the dolly.  They then stopped the gondola temporarily, which allowed my friends to push and pull the dolly (with the ski and me on it) into a gondola car. At the top, the gondola was temporarily stopped again, and I was helped out of the gondola to the edge of the concrete (un)loading pad, from which I slid off of the dolly onto the snow.  Ted pushed me across the snowfield to the terrace, while the liftees sent the dolly back down to the base (a procedure they were obviously used to).  

Ted and I skiing down

I watched the ceremony from my ski, and afterward I joined the group for the ski down the mountain to the reception.  I went last, after the skiers and snowboarders, because I ski across the whole face, and because I anticipated falls (I hadn't really skied for years, due to the pandemic).  

Looking over the valley 
from the top
before the ski down

As with many situations, it takes a village.  The bride and groom checked with me about the wheelchair in several situations.  The staff at Kicking Horse -- especially the sales coordinator (Rachel) and the liftees --  were eager to help and to offer suggestions.  The wedding guests --both old friends and new -- held the sit ski, helped slide the ski onto the dolly, helped maneuver the dolly on and off of the gondola, blocked for me while skiing down, and helped to pick me up when I fell over (yes, I did that a few times).  A big thank you to all of them for their help.  

Posing with the bride
after the ceremony

Between the people and the equipment, I was able to participate in an amazing weekend and to feel like a part of the weekend, the festivities, the wedding, and the group.  

Watching the ceremony ...
from outside the terrace!

I can't overstate my gratitude for this feeling of participation and belonging.  It is, I know, not to be assumed or taken for granted, and I was fortunate to experience this confluence of people and opportunity.

I would, however, be remiss, to omit the fact that even in the height of inclusion, I felt like I was on the fringe.  We couldn't stay with the rest of the guests, because the on-mountain lodge was not accessible (no Act for Americans with Disabilities in Canada!), and because stairs prevented me from accessing the food and the restroom at the reception.  This is, in no way, to detract from the kindness and concern of the people involved.  It's just a fact of life for people with disabilities that is probably only noticed/felt by us.