An Accessible Dream

It had always been a dream of mine to kayak along Wisconsin’s Apostle Island National Lakeshore.

In 2016 and 2017, I was given the opportunity to do just that through Wilderness Inquiry, a nonprofit organization whose mission is to offer outdoor adventures to all, regardless of ability and with a focus on offering trips to individuals who may not historically have been off ered or been able to enrich themselves via outdoor adventures.

As a person with a progressive disability, and a power wheelchair user, I fit into the latter group.

As background, I grew up in Milwaukee, and for the last 30 years I’ve lived in Wauwatosa, a suburb of that city. I’ve had the good fortune of being part of many trips through Wilderness Inquiry during the past 30-plus years – from canoeing the Minnesota Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness to rafting through the Grand Canyon and kayaking Queens Island in British Columbia.

In joining this kayak trip, it was not without some hesitation or concerns, however. I hadn’t been on a

wilderness trip in years. I was much older, and years away from my last camping and kayaking experiences. As my disability was progressive, I did not have the strength or stamina of my earlier years.

Safety, comfort, a heightened reliance on others were concerns. I also, now, had a service dog, who helped with tasks that promoted my independence. He would accompany me on this trip.

Despite my concerns, my friend Lynn, my service dog, Buckley, and I were on our way in August 2016 to kayak and view the geological wonders of the Apostle Islands.

My memory is that any apprehension concerning sleeping in a tent and living outdoors was washed away by the serenity of our surroundings. The spire of forest trees, birdsongs, the lakeshore all consumed any worries I carried. We grilled fish and ate delicious meals watching the sun set over Lake Superior. I was mesmerized by the night stars.

Our kayaking experience was controlled by the weather and unfortunately, we were not able to kayak the caves on my first trip. Th e following year, I decided to give it another go; I really wanted to kayak those caves.

The same concerns of the previous year lingered.

This time I was also without Lynn’s assistance. I have always believed in the kindness of others, and

through my entire life I have relied on it. This trip was no exception.

The weather favored our group this time, and we were given the thumbs up to kayak. What I didn’t realize was that there were 45 steps that we needed to descend to reach the beach. I knew my power wheelchair would not be functional in some areas so I also brought along my manual wheelchair for access.

Staff had other ideas, however!

A wooden kitchen chair appeared, and this, the staff assured me, would be the best vehicle for carrying me down the stairs safely. Four people – front, back and both sides – were the “muscle” that lifted me down those stairs. My only request: If there was a tumble, I wanted to land on them and not on the ground.

We made it down those infamous steps without incident, and with more assistance, settled into the kayak, ready to explore the shoreline and its splendor.

My disability prevents me from being a paddler.

Thus I was free to birdwatch, enjoy the buoyancy of the water, chat with my fellow travelers, take pictures and wonder at the making of such a place. The striations in the sandstone, their soft hues, the satin waves, the raptor nest high on a bluff all made this experience a dream come true.

And if you’re wondering about Buckley, he was too anxious in a kayak. He spent this day running the shores of the Lake, swimming (with his life jacket) and rolling in the sand. He and, so I’m told, the staff that served as his guardian had a great time, too.

Having retired last year, Buckley now gets to be a companion dog.

Of all the trips I’ve been on, I remember the Apostle Islands ones in more detail and with a little more joy. Perhaps because this national park is in my home state, and as such, there’s more of a feeling of responsibility and gratitude for its existence and continuity. Maybe the energy that made it somehow touched me, too.

How lucky I have been! What an honor and gift to be able to have rafted the Grand Canyon, slept under the stars in Utah’s Canyon Lands National Park, read by moonlight in white-stoned canyons near the Rio Grande and now kayaked, weaving among the sandstone pillars of the caves along the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore.

What a gift, too, that I have been helped by people who give of themselves with such a free and generous spirit. Their willingness to accept me as a fellow traveler and their belief in and work toward universal access and inclusivity inspires me.

I know that I am a more confident, braver and happier person from being part of these adventures.

I think I’m a better person, a more engaged and responsible citizen. I know, too, that the value I feel as a person has been heightened from these acts of inclusion.

We all deserve to be included. We all deserve to feel the power, see the majesty and be inspired by our ethereal national parks. We all deserve access.

LEARN MORE: Read about the fundraising project of the Friends of the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore to increase accessibility to the islands. You'll also find a link to donate.

Janet Bandura holds a masters in rehabilitation counseling from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. Now retired, she devoted her career as a social worker to helping disabled adults and families who have children with disabilities to achieve their dreams, goals and aspirations. She has traveled widely with Wilderness Inquiry, canoeing, kayaking and rafting. Her retirement goal is to continue exploring our national parks.