Adventure before adversity

Struggling to carry the weight of my backpack while waiting my turn to break trail through the snow, attempting to establish a new route on one of the many Himalayan peaks, I was also plagued by self-doubt. I was with three men much stronger than me who had offered to carry more of the shared gear. But I insisted on dividing everything equally because I didn't want to be a burden to anyone. I struggled deeply with wanting to carry my share, knowing I wasn't as strong as they were. That's when I thought of the amputee woman I had assisted during an ice climbing trip in Ouray, Colorado, at a Paradox Sports event a couple of months earlier. She was determined not to let her disability hold her back and managed to climb to the summit. I returned to that memory repeatedly during our expedition, and I've continued my volunteer work with Paradox Sports for that reason. Inspiration has become a cornerstone of my strength.

Paradox Sports was founded in 2007 by Timmy O'Neill, DJ Skelton, and Malcolm Daly with the aim of being “a place to connect, push boundaries, and change perceptions of what is possible with reduced mobility.” They decided to focus on climbing events because climbing “forces you to be present in body and mind, and often the 'disability' that prevents you from progressing is in your head.”

That idea made sense to me and further piqued my curiosity about what motivates women with disabilities to climb and how they cope with adversity, challenges, and fear. In February, I had the opportunity to volunteer for Paradox Sports in Ouray, where I met seven women and learned the following from them:

Stacy, who has an incomplete L4 spinal cord, fused L3 and L5 spinal cords, and fused sacroiliac joints, resulting in paralysis of her feet, legs, and stomach, always wanted to try ice climbing because it seemed fun and adventurous. But after she broke her back, she thought she wouldn't be able to do anything. Then she tried skiing, and that opened some doors. She decided to try ice climbing. If she couldn't do it, at least she had tried. She discovered she could do more than she thought, and that gave her the confidence to face the world. But she needed someone to push her out of her comfort zone. “I need someone to treat me like a normal person instead of a person with reduced mobility,” she says.

Tatiana was born with cerebral palsy, which affects her legs, especially her calves and Achilles tendon. She decided to take up ice climbing because she thought it would be good training for the National Paraclimbing Championships. She had heard her nurses talking about rock climbing and fell in love with it because it made her stronger, gave her more confidence, and brought her closer to an “incredible community.” She says she sees challenges as just another wall to climb.

Bee is an amputee from the knee down after a nasty fracture during a bouldering session. She tells me, “Being outdoors is a super powerful part of me. I don’t feel complete if I’m not out there.” After her accident, Bee tried to recover from multiple surgeries and it seemed like she would never climb again. Then she decided to have her leg amputated and was able to get back on the rock. It felt like she had been given a second chance and she was more eager to climb than ever before. The new challenge she faces now is learning to adapt her climbing style with a prosthesis, not to mention having to carry spare parts in case something breaks. Every time she goes out, the self-doubt and anxiety are there. She has to work harder. But she has learned to connect with her senses, accept her doubts, and keep going. “I have climbing partners and a community of climbers who encourage me, and that’s super important,” she says.

Esha was born blind. She came to climbing through a school for the blind and Paradox Sports. Climbing has also been part of her therapy for dissociative identity disorder, a condition that involves disruptions in memory, consciousness, identity, and perception. She says climbing gives her confidence and keeps her grounded in the present. Ice climbing in Ouray this winter was something new, and she's always ready for new adventures. She came with an open heart but expected it to be very cold. “It's completely achievable,” she says. She insists on taking things as they come, trying new things, giving it her all, and seeing how it turns out.

Kim was born without fingers on her right hand. She had been traditional climbing for three years before discovering ice climbing. The problem was that she would need a prosthetic to hold an ice axe. It was the first time she had truly felt disabled. She hadn't expected the feeling of empowerment when she finally climbed the ice. She felt happy, capable, different, and proud. She had refused to wear a prosthesis for 32 years, but now says she is “honored to wear it.” She was very afraid of how she would initially be perceived by new climbers, but there has been a shift in the climbing community, and they trust her to belay them, place anchors, and lead. She tells me, “My dreams have become a reality, and I couldn't have done it without the support of the outdoor community.”

Maureen Beck has been missing her right hand since birth. She shares gloves with Kim, as they are both missing their opposite hands. She was introduced to climbing at age 12 in the Boy Scouts and was immediately hooked. It clicked. She loved the fact that she wasn't supposed to "be able" to climb, and this was her way of saying "fuck it" to the world. She has gone on to win two Paraclimbing World Championships, one Paraclimbing World Championship, and six National Paraclimbing Championships. She also starred in Stumped, a film about her first time leading a 5.12. Paradox Sports introduced her to ice climbing, which she finds more difficult, colder, and more terrifying than rock climbing. But she appreciates the exercise. She also considers ice climbing a very special shared experience because it is still relatively uncommon. What she fears is feeling uncomfortable, either physically or mentally. And she explains it like this: “For example, I’m not good at slab climbing. So I have to ask for advice, for help. But those turn out to be the most rewarding situations.”

Jessica was born with a condition that required the amputation of her right leg when she was four months old. She used to play tennis with able-bodied people. But when she started rock climbing, she discovered that, unlike tennis, she didn't need adaptive equipment. Ice climbing was very different from what she expected, because even though she could find a foothold almost anywhere, it was exhausting having to climb up to reach it. She loves the mental challenge of climbing and observes, “Everyone has an excuse (I'm too short, there aren't enough holds), so you think, 'OK, it's normal that you can't reach that foothold.' But you look at five different people on the same problem, and each one has their own way of solving it. People face adversity all the time. My motto is: aim for something, adapt, achieve it. You don't know your own strength until you test it. And yes, I hear quite often that I'm an inspiration. But that doesn't mean anything if it doesn't get you off the couch and doing something.”

I now recall that experience in India, when I was struggling. No one escapes difficulties in this life, whether chosen or not, but these women live each day with challenges that women with "non-disabled bodies" will never know. Maureen would say, "I don't allow myself to be challenged by disability," but for me, challenge is an inspiration. If part of the value they gain from their experience is to get me off the couch and live as if I've been given a second chance, then, as Bee said, I'm going to honor that and them.

Thanks Paradox Sports.