Monica Bascio Balances Family Life and Career in Her Quest for Paralympic Gold in London

July 19, 2012 by  
Filed under Feature Story, Guest Bloggers, Lifestyle, Sports

Monica Bascio on her way to victory in a hand cycling road race.Guest blog post by Bob Vogel

Monica Bascio will be representing the U.S. in handcycling time trial and road race events in the upcoming 2012 Paralympic Games in London that kicks off in six weeks. For Bascio, 42, handcycling in the Paralympics is the culmination of a 14-year journey of dedication and hard work. Bascio is a natural athlete and extremely competitive, however sports is just one aspect of her multi-faceted life—she is the proud mom of her 5-year-old son, Henry, dedicated wife with her husband, Ian, and an Occupational Therapist specializing in geriatrics.

Bascio became a T12 paraplegic in 1992 as a result of a skiing accident.  Following SCI rehab she pursued a degree in Occupational Therapy.  She got her first handcycle in 1997 as a way to stay fit and enjoy the outdoors with Ian, a former bike racer, and quickly developed a passion for the sport.

Bascio started handcycle racing in 1998 and was ranked the number one handcyclist in the world over the next five years, winning more that 30 handcycle races. In 2004 handcycling made its debut as a Paralympic sport in Athens, Greece, but unfortunately there was no women’s division–a huge disappointment for Bascio, who was arguably the top woman handcyclist at the time.

Undeterred, Bascio decided to try adaptive cross-country skiing (sit skiing). Once again her natural athletic ability, competitive nature and work ethic enabled her to quickly rise through the competitive ranks earning her a six-year run on the U.S. ski team where she represented the U.S. as a cross-country sit skier in the 2006 and 2010 Paralympic Winter Games.

In the off-season Bascio continued handcycling as a form of cross-training.

Bascio took much of 2007 off from competing in order to embark on a new adventure. On July 8 of that year, she gave birth to her son Henry and she and Ian proudly adapted to the world of parenthood.  By early 2008 Bascio was ready to start competing and the family created a balance of parenting, work and training that would enable Bascio to get back into ski racing.

Around the same time, Bascio’s dream of Paralympic handcycling seemed like it would come to fruition when it was announced that women’s handcycling would become an event at the 1998 summer Paralympics in Beijing.  Unfortunately in March she broke her tibia and fibula transferring out of a team van while at cross country race in Norway. Although her leg healed in time for her to compete in the Paralympic trials, she didn’t have enough time to get back into racing form and didn’t make the team.

After competing in the 2010 winter Paralympics in Vancouver, Bascio considered retiring from competition, but a rule change added an H3 class to the Paralympics. This meant she would be racing against athletes with similar function rather than an open class. Bascio quickly set her sights on the London Paralympics with the family agreeing to take it “One race at a time.”

Motherhood, family life, work and training at an elite level requires amazing balance and dedication. “On a typical day I’m up at 6:00am to put in a solid 3-hour workout on my handcycle. On some days it is a 4-hour workout.  In the meantime, Ian makes breakfast for Henry and gets him ready for the day.”  She says.  “By around 10:00am, I’m home. Ian heads to the office and I take over watching Henry and maintaining the housework.  We take turns making dinners.  Ian and I chuckle because most of our dinner conversation revolves around my training.”  Ian watches Henry on the days Bascio is working as an OT.  “The key to making it all work is we support each other, communicate and work together to balance the challenges of work, raising Henry and training for the Paralympics.”

Bascio says that although the family enjoys the hectic schedule, it can be draining.  “Ian cracks up because although I hardly ever watch TV, I love watching ‘The Biggest Looser’ (a show about weight-loss ‘boot camp’). She says. “I look at the show and think, ‘If all I had to do was stay at a campus and have a coach and do workouts all day it would be like a vacation!’”

Bascio says the other challenge in balancing family life with competition is the travel schedule. “My last trip in June was pretty crazy.  I was racing at a World Cup race in Italy for two weeks, flew back to the States, was home for two weeks, then flew to Spain to race in a World Cup race.” She says.

“Then I flew to London for 36 hours to ride the race course, then flew straight to the Nationals in Augusta, GA, and of course the plane was delayed so I didn’t get in until about 9:00pm and met Ian and Henry and Henry hadn’t seen me in so long and wanted to go swimming at the pool at the hotel, and I still had to put my bike together—then had a race the next day.”

Bascio has been an avid ROHO user for the past 15 years.  “I love ROHOs” says Bascio. “When I was first injured 20 years ago, the equipment vendor I had in rehab had the ‘old school’ mentality that a ROHO cushion was for people with higher level injuries or people that already had problems with skin breakdown so they ordered a gel cushion. I didn’t like it because it was heavy and I didn’t want to take the time to massage the gel the way I was supposed to.  When it was time to order my next cushion I switched to a ROHO and I’ve been using them ever since.”

As an OT and an athlete, Bascio is aware of how quickly a pressure ulcer can happen. “I know wheelchair users that have had pressure ulcers and I’ve seen what they go through and the great length of time it takes to heal.  I’m not willing to take that risk.” she says. “When I broke my leg it cost me a spot on the Paralympics and a pressure ulcer can take much longer to heal.  I’m always sitting on a ROHO.  I use a ROHO QUADTRO SELECT LOW PROFILE on my chair and I sit on a LTV ROHO Seat Cushion in the car.  I keep an ADAPTOR Pad in my backpack for travel and use it in the tub or shower bench, or when I’m sitting on the side of a pool or sitting on the ground working on my bike.  And of course I sit on my QUADTRO SELECT on long plane flights.”

Ian and Henry, along with other members of Bascio’s family will be in London to cheer for Bascio.  “Henry gets to travel to a lot of competitions.  He has become a member of the handcycling community.  Everybody knows him and a lot of the other athletes have kids so he has friends to play with. He has his own frequent flyer card and is already on his 2nd passport.”

Says Bascio.  Proof of the saying, “The family that plays together, stays together.”race.

___________________________________________

Bob VogelBob Vogel, 51, is a freelance writer for the ROHO Community blog. He is a dedicated dad, adventure athlete and journalist. Bob is in his 26th year as a T10 complete para. For the past two decades he has written for New Mobility magazine and is now their Senior Correspondent. He often seeks insight and perspective from his 10-year-old daughter, Sarah, and Schatzie, his 9-year-old German Shepherd service dog. The views and opinions expressed in this blog post are those of Bob Vogel and do not necessarily reflect the views of The ROHO Group. You can contact Bob Vogel by email at online.relations@therohogroup.com.

SCI, Scuba Diving and the Art of Cognitive Restructuring

Guest blog post by Bob Vogel

In my pre-SCI (spinal cord injury) days I competed on the professional freestyle snow skiing circuit. Vying for the upper echelon of the sport, I soon discovered the difference between top athletes is as much mental as it is physical. I also had a few hurdles to overcome, not the least of which was that I would be overcome with severe anxiety before the start of a competitive run. I worked with a sports psychologist, and one of the tools she taught to help me overcome this was cognitive restructuring, a technique in which you change negative self talk and turn it into positive self-talk. A technique that worked! After much practice, I was able to convince myself the more nervous I was, the better I would ski. I welcomed the nerves – the tougher the competition, the better I skied.

When I broke my back and was going through SCI rehab, I discovered cognitive restructuring could be a very helpful tool in dealing with the daily routine and rigors required to maintain a healthy body with SCI.

During the acute phase of my SCI, I got hit with a pulmonary embolism (blood clot in the lung). As part of the therapy for the embolism, I had to operate a device that consisted of inhaling through my mouth to keep a little ball raised in a tube as long as I could—long deep breaths—five times every hour, which the time seemed like torture. Even tougher, twice a day the respiratory therapist came in with a torturous machine that with each breath, by mouth, would force saline-misty air into my lungs as I inhaled.  The forced salty air had a horrible taste and would cause me to almost puke. I dreaded every treatment.  However, I also understood the treatments were vital to helping me open and strengthen my lungs to prevent pneumonia.

As awful as the breathing machine felt—there was also something vaguely familiar about it.  Then I figured out the connection—the saline mist was coming from the machine had a similar taste as ocean water, a taste I often encountered when I was scuba diving – a sport I loved!  I used this connection to cognitively restructure my thoughts about the breathing treatments.  Each time I struggled to keep the ball raised on my breathing device I would imagine I was floating on the surface of the water looking down through my dive mask and taking a deep breath on my snorkel before descending as deep as my breath would allow.  During the forced air treatments, I would close my eyes and imagine I was diving in crystal clear water near a colorful coral reef.  Using cognitive restructuring, the previously unbearable treatments became pleasant daydreams.

Transferring from the acute SCI bed to the rehab ward and trying to learn the endless list of daily tasks from when to empty the bladder, how much liquid to take in, bowel training, weight shifts, skin checks, and on and on, with no physical sensation to remind us was daunting to say the least.

I remember having a similar, overwhelming feeling during my first scuba classes thinking of all the things a diver needs to monitor during a dive – depth, amount of air pressure in the tank, length of the dive, decompression status, navigation, buoyancy control, planning a slow controlled ascent and safety stop – seemed just as daunting and there is no physical sensation to help out.  Yet with time and practice it became second nature.  An accomplished diver consistently checks these systems in a relaxed manner and it becomes a source of pride.

Once again, I turned to cognitive restructuring. In rehab, I decided learning how to keep track of the way my body works and learning to manage and monitor all of the systems I could no longer feel, including weight shifts and skin checks would become akin to checking systems in scuba diving.  I worked hard in rehab and got the basics down.  I’ve also found that learning how to keep a body with SCI healthy is a lifelong, ongoing process.  I’m fortunate to have many friends with SCI and we often trade “SCI health and maintenance” ideas. For the friends I roll with, monitoring and taking control of the unique ways our bodies work with SCI is second nature.  We trade stories about keeping ourselves healthy, and dodging (or getting hit with) skin, bladder or shoulder problems the way divers talk about their scuba expeditions.

My cognitive restructuring comparing scuba diving to life with SCI extends to my equipment as well. I take as much pride in my chair and cushion as I do in my scuba gear.  I keep my chair clean and in perfect condition.  Same goes for my ROHO® QUADTRO SELECT® Cushion. As I’ve mentioned in previous blogs, I wash and change my cushion cover every few days and every week or two I take my cushion into the tub and wash it with bath soap and give it a good rinse to make sure my equipment doesn’t acquire odors that I may not be aware of.  For more information on cushion cleaning, see Resources.

 As I’ve also mentioned in previous blogs, people do notice when you take pride in your health and your equipment. The woman I married said one of the things she noticed about me when we first started dating was that I kept my chair clean. She also noticed that I did weight shifts—granted she was a nurse.  To her, taking care of my body and my equipment is a sign of self-confidence and comfort with my disability. She found this attractive!

Stay healthy, my friends!

Resources:

Cleaning and Disinfecting ROHO DRY FLOATATION Products

How to Keep Your Equipment Clean

___________________________________________

Bob VogelBob Vogel, 51, is a freelance writer for the ROHO Community blog. He is a dedicated dad, adventure athlete and journalist. Bob is in his 26th year as a T10 complete para. For the past two decades he has written for New Mobility magazine and is now their Senior Correspondent. He often seeks insight and perspective from his 10-year-old daughter, Sarah, and Schatzie, his 9-year-old German Shepherd service dog. The views and opinions expressed in this blog post are those of Bob Vogel and do not necessarily reflect the views of The ROHO Group. You can contact Bob Vogel by email at online.relations@therohogroup.com.

Dan Buchanan, International Airshow Performer, Mentor, ROHO User

Guest blog post by Bob Vogel

Dan Buchanan. Photo courtesy of Dan Buchanan.

Friends and mentors are priceless. In 1985, while still coming to grips with my spinal cord injury in the rehab hospital, a fellow hang-glider pilot named, Dan Buchanan, who is also a T8 complete para came to visit me. Dan’s visit helped me a great deal, mainly because in between dolling out tidbits of SCI survival wisdom he kept looking out the window. Within a short period of time he said “Man, the weather is looking really good for flying, so I gotta go. I’ll catch you later.” This was the perfect thing to say! The light went on! Dan’s life revolves around flying hang gliders! Paralysis wasn’t even on the radar screen.

Dan helped show me the ropes of thriving with SCI, everything from advice in ordering equipment: “Order the smallest chair you can fit into, and tell your therapist you want a ROHO cushion,” to helping me rig my hang glider and get back in the air. Over time we’ve become close friends and shared many adventures.

As I said, Dan’s life revolves around in flying hang gliders, so much so that in 1989 he left a successful career in mechanical engineering to pursue a path as a professional airshow hang glider pilot.

Dan devoted years into honing his routines, methodically developing, refining, and marketing his airshow performances. These days he is one of the most sought after air-show acts in on the circuit!

One of the many cool things about Dan’s airshow act is that it enables the general public to see beyond a wheelchair. His chair has nothing to do with the act. That is, until the finale.

To get airborne, Dan launches from a moving trailer driving down the runway at 35 mph. Once he is in the air, a winch on the trailer pays out line as Dan steadily tow-climbs to altitude as the trailer is towed down the runway. He has long colorful streamers and smoke from canisters trailing his glider. He has crafted several different routines, from an opening act flying with an American flag while the Star Spangle Banner plays, to night routines complete with lights and bright pyrotechnics.

Dan’s day show is a comedy act where he “mistakenly” launches during the middle of another performers aerobatic routine. The announcer, the other performer and Dan all exchange banter on the PA and “pretend” it is a mistake, but Dan refuses to leave the sky. Soon a police car is on the ground chasing the tow trailer and the aerobatic airplane tries to chase Dan out of the sky by buzzing his hang glider. Dan tries to chase the plane away by shooting special effects rockets and pyrotechnics, his version of a “3rd world warbird impression.” At this point Dan’s altitude is about 1,500 feet and he releases the tow rope and the announcer introduces him. He gently swoops, turns and glides down and rolls to a stop front of the audience.

An aerobatic airplane tries to "chase" Dan Buchanan out of the sky during airshow performance. Photo courtesy of Dan Buchanan.

This is when the announcer explains that Dan is a paraplegic, while overhead a helicopter delivers Dan’s wheelchair which is dangling from a cable. The aerobatic plane lands and tows Dan in his wheelchair over to the crowd where Dan shakes hands, answers questions and signs autographs.

Each year during the airshow season  —  April through October  —  Dan’s performances are seen by millions of people around the world as he travels to over 25 cities. To get from show to show requires driving more than 45,000 miles each summer. It is not uncommon for Dan to drive thousands of miles in a single week to get from one show to the next.

In addition to North America, Dan has performed in Australia, Japan, Thailand, El Salvador, The United Arab Emirates, Canada and Mexico  —  an exhausting travel schedule requiring lots of windshield time as well as sitting on very long commercial flights often across many time zones.

In December, Dan was honored by his peers on the airshow circuit when he received the Art Scholl Award for Showmanship at the International Council of Airshows (ICAS) convention banquet  —  one of the highest honors an airshow pilot can receive.

Last week I was fortunate enough to catch up with Dan via phone while he was doing a “short” 700-mile commute from North Carolina to Tennessee for his next show.

Bob Vogel (BV): Congratulations on the Art Scholl Award. Did you know it was coming?

Dan Buchanan (DB): No I didn’t. It was a complete surprise and a great honor  —  also a bit embarrassing. All the other pilots are flying planes, jets and helicopters that cost hundreds of thousands, if not millions of dollars, and here I am flying a hang glider that cost around six-thousand dollars. But mainly it was a great honor.

BV: So I’m trying to do the math — how old are you and how many years have you been injured?

DB: I’m 56-years-old and this is my 31st year as a para.

BV: Wow! I’m 52 and 27 years post injury. It seems to me having a SCI ages us in dog years, how do you manage to keep healthy, especially with all of the travel, days of driving and overseas flights?

DB: Part of it is I come from the old school rehab where they drummed into you the how to take care of myself. I manage to keep myself thin so I’m not stressing my shoulders. I also do a skin check with a mirror every day. So far, so good.

BV: What kind of cushion are you sitting on these days?

DB: I’m sitting on a ROHO® QUADTRO SELECT® LOW PROFILE®. I love these things, I’ve been sitting on a ROHO ever since I was hurt. I wouldn’t sit on anything else. I’m not sponsored by them. I don’t even get a free cushion. In fact, I paid cash for my last cushion because I was about to head out of the country and didn’t have time to mess with prescriptions and insurance.

And I always make sure my ROHO is under me — on my car seat, on the seat on the airplane, you name it.

BV: So even with all of your travel, no pressure sores?

DB: Nope, I’ve never had a pressure sore. But I’ve dodged a pressure sore bullet. Years ago I got careless and was sitting on a seat without a cushion for a while and got the start of a pressure sore. Fortunately, I caught it during my mirror check the same day. I was on a ROHO HIGH PROFILE® Single Valve at the time…Sure enough it worked, and the area got a little better every day. Within two weeks it was gone.

I learned my lesson and always keep a cushion underneath me. And like I said, I check my skin with a mirror because I can’t afford to miss a show and I don’t ever want to end up on my stomach for a couple months trying to heal a pressure sore.

BV: Thanks Dan! Safe travels!

Thinking back to when Dan first visited me in rehab I remember asking him if he thought there would be a cure for SCI — something I secretly hoped for. He replied. “I don’t think so. But here is the deal, let’s say there is a cure in say 25-years. Project yourself 25-years in the future and think back on what you would have wanted to do. Live an amazing life full of adventure, or mope about waiting for a cure?” I took those words to heart. Here I am 27-adventure-filled-years later. Grateful for good advice from a good friend!

References:

___________________________________________

Bob VogelBob Vogel, 51, is a freelance writer for the ROHO Community blog. He is a dedicated dad, adventure athlete and journalist. Bob is in his 26th year as a T10 complete para. For the past two decades he has written for New Mobility magazine and is now their Senior Correspondent. He often seeks insight and perspective from his 10-year-old daughter, Sarah, and Schatzie, his 9-year-old German Shepherd service dog. The views and opinions expressed in this blog post are those of Bob Vogel and do not necessarily reflect the views of The ROHO Group. You can contact Bob Vogel by email at online.relations@therohogroup.com.

Try Out a New Adaptive Sport this Winter Season

December 7, 2011 by  
Filed under Feature Story, Guest Bloggers, Lifestyle, Sports

Guest blog post by Bob Vogel

Winter is here, temperatures are falling and so is the snow. This is Mother Nature’s way of telling wheelchair users “I’ve covered the outdoors with an amazing accessible blanket of snow and ice. Switch from wheels to skis or skates, and come out and play!”

Adaptive gear for winter sports has evolved to the point where people with almost any disability level can actively participate. It’s time to grab your warm clothing, choose your preferred method of gliding, skating or sliding and play in the winter wonderland. Here are some ideas.

Adaptive Downhill Skiing

A bi-skier races down the hill while being tethered during a lesson at Disabled Sports USA Far West at Alpine Meadows in Lake Tahoe, California.

For enjoying a dance with gravity in stunning mountain surroundings, adaptive downhill skiing is the ticket. There are several types of adaptive skis for wheelchair users. One option is a bi-ski — a molded bucket-style seat mounted to a frame attached to two, wide, specially designed skis — enables anybody to ski. For skiers that have hand movement, bi-skis can be turned using outriggers — forearm crutches with small skis attached at the tip used for balance and for turning. Bi-skiers are usually “tethered” — a stand-up skier holds a tether made of climbing webbing to assist speed control and turning — and also assisted on and off the lift. If you have the ability to move your head you have the ability to turn a bi-ski and enjoy the slopes.

 

 

Mono-Ski

Bob Vogel mono-skiing

Bob Vogel mono-ski races at Alpine Meadows Ski Resort in Lake Tahoe, California.

A mono-ski — a molded bucket-style seat mounted on a suspension system and shock absorber mounted to a standard snow ski — is arguably the ultimate sports prosthetic. Expert mono-skiers shred the entire mountain and back country — from powder, to terrain parks, to extreme steeps and huge jumps the same as stand-up skiers. The learning progression, and length of time it takes to become proficient at mono-skiing is similar to stand-up skiing. Although trunk muscle control makes the sport much easier to learn, I know several low level quadriplegics — including a C6/7 complete quad — that are accomplished mono-skiers.

Nordic Sit Ski

Adaptive XC Skiing

Candice Cable (far left in green jacket) teaches an adaptive XC ski clinic in Sun Valley, Idaho.

If you are looking to get away from the crowds and glide through the beauty and quiet of nature — nordic sit skiing is for you. A nordic sit ski (also called XC sit ski) is a lightweight molded bucket-style seat mounted on two cross-country skis — the rig is propelled with ski poles. XC sit skis are surprisingly easy to propel, and the polling action helps keep shoulders healthy and balanced by working the muscles in the back of the shoulder. The sport can be as simple as a XC glide over a meadow or through the woods, to multi-day hut trips — skiing from one cabin to the next, to races of anywhere from half-kilometer to 20 kilometers.

Skijouring

A fun addition to XC sit skiing that I enjoy is skijouring, getting towed by one or more dogs. When I’m out XC skiing with my daughter Sarah and Schatzie, my German Shepherd service dog, I attach a tether to Schatzie’s harness and yell “squirrels!” to enjoy a high-speed winter dog tow.

Sledge Hockey

USA Cup Paralympic Sled Hockey Championship

Photo Credits: Doug Pensinger/Getty Images

Perhaps hockey is your game. Sled hockey, also known as “sledge” hockey is an international and Paralympic sport with the same the same high-speed excitement as stand-up hockey, but adapted to a sitting position. A hockey sled is a molded bucket seat mounted on a lightweight aluminum frame, mounted on standard hockey skate blades. Players hold a hockey stick in each hand, the bottom of the each stick is fitted with a serrated spikes used to propel the sled. Simple adaptations like duct tape enable people without hand-grip to play. Hockey sleds are easy to propel, and a good player can reach high speeds and carve sharp turns and high speed check stops.

Adaptive Skating

Bob Vogel adaptive ice skates with his daughter, Sarah.

A very cool spin off of sled hockey is adaptive skating. The potential for possible high-speed impact in sled hockey is a bit much for my aging brittle bones — but thanks to sled hockey’s popularity, many ice rinks offer hockey sleds, usually at no cost, or the cost of rental skates. I have a blast going to my local rink, strapping into a hockey sled and skating with Sarah. It is a fun workout and also helps keep shoulders healthy by working the same muscles as cross-country skiing. Ask your local rink if they offer sleds, if they don’t suggest they get one, most will be happy to purchase one since it means more business for them.

Dog Sledding

Dog sledding is another unique activity, ready made for wheelers. I’ve had the opportunity to go dog sledding and it’s an amazing way to travel into the winter wilderness. Riding in a dog sled, the only sounds are the hiss from the runners of the sled and the pitter-patter of dog paws. The tether to the dog team seems to make a direct connection to your senses, and watching ten wagging tails in front of you — running with its pack towing a sled through the snow on a crisp clear winter day, must be a blast for a dog. The experience is sure to put an ear-to-ear grin on your face. Dog sled operations are surprisingly common in snow country and trips range from 45-minute outings, to half day and even full day trips.

So pick a winter pastime, and enjoy mother nature’s winter adaptive blanket. See you on the snow!

Resources:

Adaptive Ski Programs

Dog Sledding:

Nordic Sit Skiing:

Sled Hockey:

___________________________________________

Bob VogelBob Vogel, 51, is a freelance writer for the ROHO Community blog. He is a dedicated dad, adventure athlete and journalist. Bob is in his 26th year as a T10 complete para. For the past two decades he has written for New Mobility magazine and is now their Senior Correspondent. He often seeks insight and perspective from his 10-year-old daughter, Sarah, and Schatzie, his 9-year-old German Shepherd service dog.

Dad’s Dream Road Trip

by Bob Vogel

This past summer I was able to relive one of my favorite childhood memories of a family camping trip — at age 51 — when I took my 10-year-old daughter Sarah and my German shepherd service dog Schatzie on a 21-day 3000-mile road trip from California to Colorado.

In addition to packing the Jeep and trailer with an adaptive off-road bike, camping gear and luggage, I made sure to pack a “skin check” mirror and the right cushions. I’m in my 26th year as a T10 complete para — over the years I’ve developed a pelvic obliquity, my left ischium (butt bone) sits lower than my right. To compensate for the obliquity I use a ROHO® QUADTRO SELECT® Cushion on my chair, and to protect my butt in the car I sit on a custom two-chamber ROHO that doubles as a handcycle cushion. This would be especially important on the 10–12 driving days that lay ahead. As a journalist I’ve written about many wheelers that have gone decades without a pressure sore, only to get one and spend many months in the hospital with major skin flap surgery. Twenty-six years after rehab, I still do a morning and evening mirror skin-check.

My plan for the trip was to “drive until it’s time to stop” and then find an inexpensive hotel room. This being tourist season, finding a room without a reservation at late hours was going to be tough enough, forget about finding an accessible room with a roll-in-shower. No problem, a ROHO ADAPTOR® PAD on the standard shower floors gave me a safe — and clean — place to transfer down to.

Our first destination was a campground nestled high in the Rocky Mountains next to the Colorado River near Eagle, Colorado. I was there to compete in the Adventure TEAM Challenge — a three-day multi-sport adaptive adventure race. The race is made up of five-person teams — two athletes on each team must have a disability, one of which must be a wheelchair user, the other three team members are non-disabled athletes. The focus of the event is teamwork — working together to get all five members through a race that includes mountain biking, white water rafting, zip line, hiking, climbing and navigating in the mountain wilderness.

During the long race days I wore a climbing harness that I lined with ADAPTOR PADs — held in place with contact cement. Not only did this protect my skin going over rocky terrain — the harness made it easier for my teammates to help me transfer over difficult obstacles.

At the event, Sarah and Schatzie had a great time camping and were able to tag along with the camera crew to watch the race and cheer me on. The team I raced with ended up in 5th place — the highest placing rookie team.

Our next stop was Winter Park, Colorado for the No Barriers Summit — a four-day seminar that included the latest innovations in adaptive sports and adventure, adaptive technology, disability-related scientific presentations and adaptive adventure films.

More than 600 people with disabilities from around the world attended this year’s summit. For four days the Winter Park village became a hub of disability culture.

Sarah joined me on an adaptive white-water raft trip on the Colorado River. At times she would excitedly call out “Daddy, that’s where we were taking pictures of you during the race!” Sarah and Schatzie were also able to participate in adaptive kayaking — Sarah with me in a double kayak, Schatzie swimming from shore to our kayak and back. During rafting and kayaking, my skin was protected by my harness with an ADAPTOR PAD.

From Winter Park, we followed the same route through Colorado that my folks drove when I was Sarah’s age. Highlights included touring the mining town of Leadville — elevation 10,152 feet — driving over the continental divide and spending a day in Aspen. We watched the 4th of July fireworks in Telluride, a scenic mountain town at the end of a box canyon surrounded by 13,000-foot mountain peaks — each display would light up the canyon walls and the boom’s echoed about the walls to Sarah’s delight. I was relieved that Schatzie is not gun-shy — she fell asleep halfway through the show.

Bob, Sarah and Schatzie on a train ride on the Durango & Silverton Narrow Guage Railroad.

From Telluride we drove to Durango to ride behind a steam locomotive on the famous Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad. The route goes through a steep gorge, high in the San Juan Mountains and offers amazing views. The engine and coaches were built in the 1800’s with one very cool addition — a wheelchair lift on the coach nearest the engine — the most coveted spot for a rail fan.

Bob's daughter Sarah was covered in soot after Bob and Sarah's ride on a train on the Durango & Silverton Narrow Guage Railroad.

Sarah loved the view — but said “Daddy, I’m getting cinders in my hair.” I replied “when we were kids, Grandpa explained that a real rail fan loves the cinders and soot, and we would see who could get the most.” From then on Sarah kept her head out of the coach as much as possible.

By the end of the line, Sarah was covered with soot and grinning from ear to ear — so was I — and grateful to have had this experience when I was a boy, even more grateful to share it with my daughter!

_____________________

Bob VogelBob Vogel, 51, is a freelance writer for the ROHO Community blog. He is a dedicated dad, adventure athlete and journalist. Bob is in his 26th year as a T10 complete para. For the past two decades he has written for New Mobility magazine and is now their Senior Correspondent. He often seeks insight and perspective from his 10-year-old daughter, Sarah, and Schatzie, his 9-year-old German Shepherd service dog.

Next Page »