‘Further up’ and ‘further in’ I will go to explore the boundaries of accessibility

John Muir once wrote, “The mountains are calling, and I must go.”

Every once in a while, that quote resonates in my heart. I am a Carolina girl who grew up in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains, along the rim of the Blue Ridge Parkway, and I somehow ended up planted in the wide, flat plains of the Midwest. I haven’t seen the mountains in a while, especially aflame with the colors of fall, and I miss them.

Does it surprise you to learn that I love hiking in the mountains? After all, I live with spinal muscular atrophy (SMA). That means I have fragile respiratory function and low muscle tone, and I depend on a power wheelchair for mobility, none of which makes it ideal for me to explore high and rocky altitudes. I could easily list several reasons why staying home and staying on straight, paved sidewalks would be a much more comfortable and convenient way to live. But if I did, how would I ever know how beautiful this world really is?

In North Carolina, frequent visits to Boone and Asheville, as well as the local hills in Winston-Salem and Mount Airy, gave me plenty of opportunities to find well-blazed trails wide and smooth enough for my wheelchair. But just because a path is accessible doesn’t mean it is always easy. I had to pay careful attention to where I was going and what was happening around me, looking out for holes, soft mud, rocks the size of speed bumps, and wayward branches that could get caught in my wheels.

I learned how to find my center of gravity and adjust the angle of my chair to maintain my balance as I rode up and down slopes of varying degrees. It required extra patience and discernment to know when to slow down, ask my friends for help, or find a different route.

How vast the world is

In 2018, two of my best friends and I took a train from Chicago to Denver to hike in the Rocky Mountains. Now those are real mountains, bigger and higher than I’d ever seen! Since it is a national park, we had free access, and there were accessible trails with breathtaking views. We drove our rental van into the park and lost track of time and distance as we listened to some of our favorite songs, until we saw a sign that said we were approaching 12,000 feet!

Connie Chandler, center, and her friends, Pam Leeper and Rachel Eck, enjoy the view at Rocky Mountain National Park during a trip out west in 2018. (Courtesy of Connie Chandler)

Instead of a warning, it felt like an encouragement. “Further up, and further in!” we cheered, echoing the eager spirit of C.S. Lewis, one of our favorite authors. We parked the van and piled out, and started on a path with a steady incline that curved around the side of the mountain. We couldn’t see how far it would take us, but we were thrilled to follow it anyway. We hiked it for a long time, until we started to get tired and out of breath, and knew we needed to turn back. But even that had an awesome mystery to it: as far as we could go, it was still so much greater than us.

The mountains are beautiful and inspiring, filling my heart with peace and hope. They hold joyful memories with friends, quiet and profound moments with God, and lessons I carry long after a hike is over.

They have taught me that a meaningful life is not built by pretending limitations do not exist, but by meeting them with preparation, patience, support, and the courage to adapt. None of those things diminishes the wonder of the journey; if anything, they make it more precious. Every trail asks me to balance caution with curiosity, and every summit reminds me that a path that first appears closed may open through determination and community.

I still do not know when I will see the mountains again, but I know their call has never left me. Whenever possible, I will answer, not because the journey is easy or because I have nothing to fear, but because going further up and further in reminds me how high, deep, and vast the world is, and how fully I want to live within it.

Note: SMA News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of SMA News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to spinal muscular atrophy.