Reminiscing and Reconnecting

Road to Nowhere

well we know where we're goin'
but we don't know where we've been
and we know what we're knowin'
but we can't say what we've seen
and we're not little children
and we know what we want
and the future is certain
give us time to work it out

We're on a road to nowhere
Come on inside
Takin' that ride to nowhere
We'll take that ride

I'm feelin' okay this mornin'
And you know,
We're on the road to paradise
Here we go, here we go


--- David Byrne

We’re back home now from a 10 day work and play trip to Arizona. I was asked to help organize a fire workshop for extension agents and the idea of Tucson in March was too much to pass up. But, as we often do, we added some vacation time on either side of the meeting. This trip was especially fun because we were able to reminisce about our first trip to the Grand Canyon when, as newlyweds in 1985, we stopped there on our way to the unknown and excitement of our first permanent job with The Nature Conservancy. Traveling south from Washington we listened to The Talking Heads and wondered what we were getting ourselves into. All these years later we still sing “we’re on a road to nowhere” as the road to paradise unfolds in front of us.

For the first time on a plane trip, we took two wheelchairs; my lighter, more comfortable everyday chair, and the AdvenChair, which is much better on hills and trails. We think we were quite a sight in the airport with Yvonne pushing me in the red chair, and me pushing the AdvenChair with the duffel bag on top. We were pretty happy with how efficient it was, and that United didn’t charge us to check a second chair (although we did hit a sliding door and push it out of its track).

After flying to Tucson we drove north to Phoenix where we met Merle and Nate Harlan at a Thai restaurant. Merle and Yvonne were teachers at the Waldorf School of Bend, and Nate was one of Yvonne’s students. After coffee at Yvonne’s Café (despite the name it was actually pretty disappointing) we visited the Desert Botanical Gardens where things were just starting to bloom. From there we drove 4 hours up to Grand Canyon Village and Tom Zell and Clover Earl’s place. After a great breakfast – 1 of several killer meals Tom cooked - (he founded Zell’s Café in Portland) we rolled several miles on the South Rim Trail through patches of snow, under clear blue skies. Someone described it as “glorious.”

On our way through Flagstaff we had a quick drive-by visit with Rob and Amy Waltz. I stayed in the car while we chatted in the driveway for a half hour before heading south again. Monday, we slept in before meeting 2 old friends from that early ‘80s era at an ancient pueblo site. I worked with Rod Hoibakk and Nina Verzoni early in my Forest Service career but hadn’t seen them in years. They had both moved around themselves and had lost contact with each other until I invited them to meet us for a hike. They’ve lived for 4 years 8 miles apart in rural Arizona without knowing they were neighbors!

The workshop that got us to “the Old Pueblo” was a nice little 3 day affair to help extension agents learn how they can better inform their particular audience how to prepare their homes for wildland fire. Despite recent surgery to repair a broken collarbone, Mark Apel drove 2 hours from Bisbee to see us (thanks Mark!). A highlight for me was talking with Bob Mutch, one of the early pioneers of fire ecology who was a big influence on me 30 years ago. For being close to 80 he is still incredibly passionate about both the natural role of fire, and how people can live safely in fire-prone environments.

Wednesday night we had dinner with Tom and Debbie Collazo, who by offering us jobs at Ramsey Canyon Nature Preserve set us on our original road to nowhere; David Mount and Jendy Hall, who put me up in Tucson when Yvonne and the week-old boys were in the hospital, later offering dresser drawers as Cory and Emory’s first cribs; and Junardi Armstrong, who we have known since those Tucson days.

On Thursday we got a cook’s tour of the new Laboratory of Tree Ring Research at the University of Arizona from Margaret Evans. She is now Doctor Evans but we first knew her as a 15 year-old at Hancock Field Station, the science camp where we worked the summer before our wedding. That night we attended a lecture by Gary Nabhan, an ethnobotanist that Yvonne has followed for years.

Friday found us just a few miles from Mexico when we visited Greg Nolan, who I fought fire with on the La Grande Hotshot crew. He took us to the Buenos Aires Wildlife Refuge where we rolled by ponds and through cottonwoods and hackberries.

Saturday morning, before we closed our loop by heading to the airport, we spent some much needed quiet time in the oak woodlands of Madera Canyon, listening to the birds and wind in the trees. Oak woodlands, or encinal, are special places to us; we lived in them and I studied their fire ecology for my Master’s thesis. The Emory Oak, in particular, is an important part of the encinal. Growing in poor, rocky soils and a hot, dry, almost unforgivable climate, it must also live with frequent fires, which it either resists with its thick bark, or by sprouting new stems. I really admire this tree because it is incredibly tough, resilient, and long-lived; a true survivor. How prophetic that we named our son, Emory, after the tree.

By midnight we were home to our dog Casper and happy to fall asleep in the paradise of our own bed. Here we go, here we go...

Meditating: Step By Painful Step

Running With Cancer: "A Wake Up Call AND Blessing"

In November of 2013, after my good friend Susan Zimmerman told us that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer, I told her that we would be with her and Dave (her husband) through the entire journey.

"Some journeys are not planned and may not always be enjoyable, but nonetheless, off you go. You (and Dave) are about to go to physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional places that you probably can’t even imagine but we know that you two will travel the unmapped territory as true warriors: with love, courage, grace, compassion, and humor. The unknowns are no doubt scary, but I’m sure as many, or more, wonderful things await you. I don’t know anyone better suited for such an adventure as you and Dave.”

Susan and Dave have indeed been on an adventure and she has been the model of strength, courage, and grace. Dave too has been a model of compassion and encouragement. Often (but not always) Susan would have her trademark big smile as she told us of her trials with (and after) her day long chemotherapy and radiation treatments. We’d also hear about their latest “warrior training” session, one of which they rode their motorcycles into the nearby national forest, stripped down to running clothes, ran 8 to 10 miles on a trail, and then rode home where Susan created some sort of wonderful, healthy dinner (she’s a personal chef).

For this month’s inspiration profile Jake interviewed Susan and learned about how “knowledge and acceptance” set her free to experience her unexpected adventure in a positive light. Read the full interview here.

An Inspired First Day Back On the Hill

The skies were gray and dreary when Ed and I left Bend, but by the time we were a few miles out of town we broke through the inversion and it was clear that it would be a bluebird day on Mt. Bachelor. It’s been a pretty poor snow year in Oregon (some resorts haven’t even opened yet, and may not open at all) and this week has been quite warm – so I looked forward to spring skiing conditions with clear skies and a temp around 40 degrees. We would have to stay on the groomed runs (groomers) because I knew everything else would be icy and jarring.

Ed, a retired former colleague of mine at the BLM, has a mid-week pass and was more than happy to take me up on a Thursday for my first day of the year. In Bend it’s pretty common for people to play hooky from work for part or all of a day to go skiing – lucky me!

I've skied with Oregon Adaptive Sports (OAS); a great program for people with disabilities, for 8 y ears and t he gang is like my winter family that recharges me. In my time with OAS it has grown from an all volunteer program that literally drafted instructors out of the parking lot to an outstanding organization with professional leadership and well-trained volunteers.

Today I was with Ryan and Henry, both who I had ridden with last year, and a new volunteer named Mark. Ryan was my “bucket assist,” meaning he skied behind me, steering and braking when needed, but mostly acting as my back-up plan in case I lost control of the bi-ski. Henry and Mark were there to help get me onto the lift, keep other skiers from running into me, block traffic at intersections, and are good company.

The crew grabbed the new light blue, Dutch Bros. Coffee Co. bi-ski and transferred me out of my wheel chair and into the bucket seat. At the base of the hill I coached Ryan and Henry through the pr ocess of relaxing my left hand– through a thick leather mitten – enough to slide it over the grip of th e outrigger (think a short arm crutch with a ski on the end), and then secure it with Velcro straps (see photos, including some from last year showing the entire ski with bucket assist). With me strapped into th e bucket, feet secured, and outriggers and helmet on, we hit the slopes of Sunrise Lift.

The first run of the year is about the skier and bucket assist getting (re)acquainted and in sync with each other. Together we weigh more than 400 pounds and can rapidly generate speed, so communication, familiarity, and trust are critical – as well as these guys being strong and skilled skiers! The trust part is incredibly importan t because Ryan (and all my other bucketeers) really let me do most of the steering, but we both go down together, so it’s nice to have someone put their trust and safety in me rather than the other way around! (Some of the trust, no doubt, comes from the fact that Ryan and I are both wildland firefighters)

After several runs we headed back in for lunch. I had some equipment issues so we decided to call it a day. I had skied well, picking up right where I left off last year, and made a good team with Ryan. All in all, it was a great first day.

I had gone up to the mountain inspired by Chris Devlin-Young and fellow OAS skier Ravi Drugan, the gold and bronze medalists in the Mono Ski X at the recent X-Games. I’ve known Ravi for several years and it was fun to see the local boy do well. He done us proud!

In his post-race interview fifty three year old Devlin-Young thanked his wife for letting him get out and ”do crazy things,” his ski maker and his crew. He finished by saying “...it gives an opportunity for the world to see that people with disabilities can do some pretty amazing things and whether you start with a disability as a kid, or you’re later in years you can still get out and have a lot of fun.”

Well said Chris!

Epic AdvenChairing

The Onward Team heading out along the Shevlin Loop Trail on Sunday.

Epic is how I’d describe Sunday. When our planned day of skiing at Mt. Bachelor was scrubbed because of poor conditions, we went advenchairing at Shevlin Park. On a sunny 45 degree day Yvonne, Emory, and Robin (with help from Casper) pushed and pulled me around the 6 mile Shevlin Loop Trail along Tumalo Creek on the west side of Bend. Advenchairing is what we call taking my chair off the beaten path and it is our connection to nature and outdoor adventures.

Shevlin Park is a place that my wife Yvonne and I often go because she can easily push me on the paved road and packed gravel trail in the park’s upper and lower sections. With my son Emory and good friend Robin though, we had the horsepower to try the more difficult middle portion of the trail that had eluded us. My off-road wheelchair, which we call the Advenchair, has been constantly evolving, with the intention of being as ergonomically efficient as possible for the pusher and puller. A friend had recently mounted a mountain bike handle bar that gave the pusher a higher, wider, and horizontal grip. We were also testing a towing system using 7 foot copper tubes attached to a hip belt. The results were better than any of us had expected: with the puller providing 80% of the power, the pusher could focus on steering and maneuvering over and around roots and rocks. Emory and Robin powered up steep inclines and deftly navigated some pretty technical spots.

As we came down a particularly steep and rocky stretch I looked downhill to see that the trail crossed the creek by way of a log. We pondered fording the narrow, but fast, waters, as well as me getting out of the chair and scooching across on my butt (turning around really wasn't something we considered – Onward!), and finally decided to straddle the flat-topped log with the chair’s axle. Before we knew it we were across and high fiving!

After lunch and the steepest climb of the day we had an unexpected test of the equipment when Emory misjudged a rock and laid me over on my left side, with me looking down at the creek below. With Emory and Robin’s strength, and Yvonne’s quick reaction from behind, I was stabilized and quickly upright again. The handle bar gave Emory great control as he broke my fall and was strong and solid as he pulled to right me. The seat belt held me so well that I really didn't need to readjust my position. We did all agree that a helmet would be a good idea next time.

“To inspire, encourage, and enable outdoor adventures for people of all physical abilities”….this website and blog are my way sharing my journey since my stroke, and how my family, especially my wife Yvonne has treated it as an adventure.

Onward is the motivational expression I latched onto several years ago and The Onward Project has grown from that simple, yet strong word (I once asked a Spanish colleague for a translation and he replied “adelante…go forward; move ahead. Sounds kind of Che Guevara-esque doesn’t it” Francisco said). We often meet or see people that inspire us, particularly if they have an obvious challenge, and we’d say “that’s an Onward person.” So my hope is that through sharing my story and those of others (such a Karri Vanderbom), people will look at the challenges that life throws at us as adventures, rather than obstacles that can’t be surmounted.

I’m launching The Onward Project website now because MLK weekend has a special spot on my calendar. I was released from the hospital on January 12, 2006 (unfortunately I didn't receive walking papers) and because the following weekend was a holiday, Robin drove up from Chico to visit. He has continued the annual visit and over the years it became a ski day at Mt. Bachelor, but after yesterday it may destined for more advenchairing!

This is indeed a project and we will certainly learn and grow as we go. Big thanks to Tashia Davis and Emory Babb for building the website for me, and Jake Stein for writing the profile of Karri Vanderbom. Onward!