The climbing of Roxy Anne Peak in a wheelchair
Scaling the mountain in an electric wheelchair, that is. A double deep-cycle battery, mid-wheel drive, high tech wheelchair. In no small measure too, is the drive of a disabled man named Morgan Enge to not be excluded from outdoor activities and challenges. I've taken care of Morgan for almost 20 years as the father of a son with cerebral palsy. Now he is taking care of himself. I hear he is the first disabled person in Jackson County to take over the administration of the budget for his own personal care and community inclusion activities.
That in itself is a challenge and a half. He had to hire eight or so staff to provide him and his sister, who also is a wheelchair user, with 24/7 living support. People that manage a staff of eight and have to fund-raise for transportation and medical equipment know what he is up against.
When we lived in Alaska, we always included Morgan and his sister in outings, even if it meant wheeling their manual chairs down the tide flats to get up close and personal with an iceberg. Or strapping their chair down in a speed boat and tearing around through flocks of seagulls, around icebergs, and up placid estuarys with timid black bears out foraging near the tree line on the beach. In fact Morgan had such a good time up on the bow of a speed-boat once, it brought tears to the eyes of the veteran school boat captain who took him out that day.
The reason for this preface to a mountain climb in a wheelchair is for the encouragement of other wheelchair users and their care-givers. And to explain Morgan's enthusiasm for life, even to the extent that he wants to start a wheelchair company based on my patented chair to ease long-term care for user and care-giver alike. So when I mentioned a bike ride up Roxy Anne Peak to my oldest son and grandson, Morgan was certainly down for it. He had a caregiver follow us to the second gate in his van. Thus started what I think might be a pioneering trip in an electric wheelchair.
From the second gate from the bottom to the flat spot with the park bench, and the big bend in the road, it's fairly easy going. Except biking was no better than walking and we were passed up regularly by a young woman hiker.(A couple of weeks later we found her manning the help window at the Oregon Dept. of Revenue.) I think Morgan could have given us all a run for our money if he had just put his joy stick to the firewall.
When it started to get steeper on the upper slope, with looser gravel, his caregiver had to give him a push to supplement the electrical energy. I did that on a previous attempt at scaling the peak, just the two of us, and I'll guarantee it'll get your heart rate right up there. That time Morgan and I made it to the top gate, period. This time we had a caregiver who was used to two man lifts of Harley-Davidsons into pick-up trucks, and my oldest son, who stays in shape for government work. Since there is no way around that barricade, even for a small boy, that 379 pound wheelchair was going to go over the top. And that it did. I helped by steadying it balanced on the top gate member while Jesse and Spencer climbed over themselves. I was slightly discouraging of the lifting as my back is still smarting from lifting a row-boat on and off a Jeep in Alaska last year. But older brother and dedicated caregiver weren't to be deterred.
Then the pushing started again, with Jesse and Spencer taking turns pushing to assist the wheelchair. All these elements of brute force, and the latest in wheelchair technology, surely were the deciding factors in conquering the massif. When you get on top there is a gaggle of small buildings supporting a forest of communications and media antennae. There is a trail leading to the face of the crag, for a panoramic view of the Rogue Valley. Morgan could only get part way down that path with his wheelchair, even with a push, so we carried him the last seventy feet. We took the seat out of his wheelchair and put it on a rock and that was his aerie perch while we had our picnic snacks and rested.
All of which is why I make the assertion that Morgan might well be the first wheelchair user to drive to the top of Roxy Anne Peak on the edge of the Rogue Valley, just mere miles to the east of the heart of Medford, Oregon. And he certainly has Medicaid to thank for the expensive wheelchair that lets him do these kinds of things. And many other people too that have helped him, like the Jackson County Developmental Disability Services staff, United Seating staff, and others in the social services community. This support network is a huge driver for our attachment to the Rogue Valley. Attachment is what gets people to commit to living and working here and making the economy strong and the community vibrant. Thanks, Medford, this was a success for you too.
That in itself is a challenge and a half. He had to hire eight or so staff to provide him and his sister, who also is a wheelchair user, with 24/7 living support. People that manage a staff of eight and have to fund-raise for transportation and medical equipment know what he is up against.
When we lived in Alaska, we always included Morgan and his sister in outings, even if it meant wheeling their manual chairs down the tide flats to get up close and personal with an iceberg. Or strapping their chair down in a speed boat and tearing around through flocks of seagulls, around icebergs, and up placid estuarys with timid black bears out foraging near the tree line on the beach. In fact Morgan had such a good time up on the bow of a speed-boat once, it brought tears to the eyes of the veteran school boat captain who took him out that day.
The reason for this preface to a mountain climb in a wheelchair is for the encouragement of other wheelchair users and their care-givers. And to explain Morgan's enthusiasm for life, even to the extent that he wants to start a wheelchair company based on my patented chair to ease long-term care for user and care-giver alike. So when I mentioned a bike ride up Roxy Anne Peak to my oldest son and grandson, Morgan was certainly down for it. He had a caregiver follow us to the second gate in his van. Thus started what I think might be a pioneering trip in an electric wheelchair.
From the second gate from the bottom to the flat spot with the park bench, and the big bend in the road, it's fairly easy going. Except biking was no better than walking and we were passed up regularly by a young woman hiker.(A couple of weeks later we found her manning the help window at the Oregon Dept. of Revenue.) I think Morgan could have given us all a run for our money if he had just put his joy stick to the firewall.
When it started to get steeper on the upper slope, with looser gravel, his caregiver had to give him a push to supplement the electrical energy. I did that on a previous attempt at scaling the peak, just the two of us, and I'll guarantee it'll get your heart rate right up there. That time Morgan and I made it to the top gate, period. This time we had a caregiver who was used to two man lifts of Harley-Davidsons into pick-up trucks, and my oldest son, who stays in shape for government work. Since there is no way around that barricade, even for a small boy, that 379 pound wheelchair was going to go over the top. And that it did. I helped by steadying it balanced on the top gate member while Jesse and Spencer climbed over themselves. I was slightly discouraging of the lifting as my back is still smarting from lifting a row-boat on and off a Jeep in Alaska last year. But older brother and dedicated caregiver weren't to be deterred.
Then the pushing started again, with Jesse and Spencer taking turns pushing to assist the wheelchair. All these elements of brute force, and the latest in wheelchair technology, surely were the deciding factors in conquering the massif. When you get on top there is a gaggle of small buildings supporting a forest of communications and media antennae. There is a trail leading to the face of the crag, for a panoramic view of the Rogue Valley. Morgan could only get part way down that path with his wheelchair, even with a push, so we carried him the last seventy feet. We took the seat out of his wheelchair and put it on a rock and that was his aerie perch while we had our picnic snacks and rested.
All of which is why I make the assertion that Morgan might well be the first wheelchair user to drive to the top of Roxy Anne Peak on the edge of the Rogue Valley, just mere miles to the east of the heart of Medford, Oregon. And he certainly has Medicaid to thank for the expensive wheelchair that lets him do these kinds of things. And many other people too that have helped him, like the Jackson County Developmental Disability Services staff, United Seating staff, and others in the social services community. This support network is a huge driver for our attachment to the Rogue Valley. Attachment is what gets people to commit to living and working here and making the economy strong and the community vibrant. Thanks, Medford, this was a success for you too.
posted by Alaskacafe at 10:14 AM
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