Written by Stu Starkey
More Than a Hike
My name is Stu Starkey. I’m a 44-year-old entrepreneur from Winnipeg, Manitoba, a place known for a lot of things, but mountains certainly aren’t one of them. I have light-perception vision, and before this trip with Braille Mountain Initiative, I had never backpacked or camped before. So naturally, my introduction to both was a six-day, five-night backpacking adventure through Top of the World Provincial Park in the Rocky Mountains.
I joined seven other hikers with varying levels of vision, along with a group of incredibly experienced guides and volunteers. I went into the trip knowing it would challenge me. What I didn’t fully understand was just how much we would be expected to learn, contribute and do for ourselves. And that turned out to be the best part.
This Wasn't the "babbling brook" tour.
There are experiences created for people with disabilities that, with the best of intentions, remove so much of the risk and challenge that they also remove some of the adventure.
This wasn't that.
Braille Mountain Initiative didn't bring us into the mountains simply so we could say we'd been there. We were there to backpack, hike, learn, and develop the skills to actually function in the backcountry.
Over six days, we learned how to ascend and descend mountain terrain, navigate using accessible technology, communicate effectively with our guides, understand the terrain around us through verbal and physical techniques, and even cook our meals using backcountry gear. We weren't passengers, we were expected to learn.
For me, one of the biggest challenges came before I had developed any of those skills. When you have only light perception and you're walking along the side of a mountain, there's a fairly persistent thought running through your head: I could fall down this mountain. Learning to communicate with my guide changed everything. We had to figure out how to move together and how to communicate what was coming like changes in terrain, rocks, roots, slopes, drops and obstacles. I had to learn what information I needed and how to interpret it quickly enough to keep moving. There was a physical language to it as well. Slowly, I began to understand the terrain around me without needing to see it.
With every kilometre the tension started to ease. Trust replaced some of the uncertainty. Skills replaced some of the fear, and eventually, I stopped thinking quite so much about falling down the mountain and started thinking about getting to the top of it.
We completed five major hikes during the trip. Three had relatively modest elevation, while days three and five were different stories. Reaching each day’s mountain objective was easily the highlight of the entire experience. The frigid alpine water of Sparkle Lake stands out in particular. The accomplishment wasn't simply reaching the summit of the trail. It was everything required to get there. The communication, trust, concentration, physical effort and hundreds of small decisions along the way. Then, of course, you realize reaching the top is only half the job. You still have to get back down.
Apparently climbing mountains wasn't enough, because every day also included a swim in a stunning mountain lake. "Refreshing" is one word for it. But those swims became part of the experience, along with the stories, jokes and conversations shared throughout the six days. Some of my favourite memories aren't necessarily the biggest moments. They're the laughs with the other hikers and guides. The conversations while moving through the mountains. The stories at camp. The friendships that develop surprisingly quickly when a group of people are learning, struggling, laughing and accomplishing something together.
There were eight hikers with different levels of vision and different backgrounds, but we were all there for the same reason: to see what was possible.
More Than a Summit
I came into this trip as someone who had never backpacked, never camped and rarely spent time in the mountains. Six days later, I left having navigated challenging mountain terrain, operated cooking equipment in the backcountry, swam in fresh alpine lakes and learned an entirely new way of communicating and moving through an environment I couldn't see.
But the biggest thing I brought home wasn't any individual backcountry skill. It was possibility. Braille Mountain Initiative created an experience that challenged us beyond what many organizations would be willing to curate for people with visual impairments. They didn't eliminate every obstacle. Instead, they gave us the skills, guidance and support to work through them.
There is an important difference between making something accessible and making something easy. This trip was accessible, but it definitely wasn't easy, and that's exactly why it mattered.
