Birding Without Barriers is part of a national movement to ensure that mobility impairment does not hinder people from enjoying nature.
“I’m seeing a female merganser, and she looks like she’s having a bad hair day,” says Bob Roark pointing to Tabor Lake in Wheat Ridge's Prospect Park, just outside of Denver. The other attendees on this mid-October birding trip aim their binoculars in search of the “hoodie,” known for her spikey cinnamon crest. The temperature is cooler than expected, and when a woman with a walker mentions her hands are cold, Roark gives her his insulated gloves—which he’d brought to wear under the fingerless cycling gloves he wears to propel his wheelchair. This outing is part of a new initiative that Roark created to get mobility-impaired people out in nature and birding.
When Roark was 29, he fell during an ice-climbing lesson, suffered a spinal cord injury, and lost function of his legs. Today he describes himself as a “40-year-long wheelchair jockey and a geezer.” Birding helps the retired physician’s assistant keep active and outdoors, but it hasn’t been an easy hobby to pursue. He tried several groups in Denver, Colorado, but none could accommodate his needs. Many birders go off the beaten path, where Roark can’t go. And even outings in urban parks proved challenging; he frequently encountered a lack of accessible parking, terrain his wheels couldn’t navigate, and paths with hills that are too steep for him to manage. “It was a very frustrating thing,” he says.
This New Program in Denver Is Paving the Way for Birders With Reduced Mobility
“I’m seeing a female merganser, and she looks like she’s having a bad hair day,” says Bob Roark pointing to Tabor Lake in Wheat Ridge's Prospect Park, just outside of Denver. The other attendees on this mid-October birding trip aim their binoculars in search of the “hoodie,” known for her spikey cinnamon crest. The temperature is cooler than expected, and when a woman with a walker mentions her hands are cold, Roark gives her his insulated gloves—which he’d brought to wear under the fingerless cycling gloves he wears to propel his wheelchair. This outing is part of a new initiative that Roark created to get mobility-impaired people out in nature and birding.
When Roark was 29, he fell during an ice-climbing lesson, suffered a spinal cord injury, and lost function of his legs. Today he describes himself as a “40-year-long wheelchair jockey and a geezer.” Birding helps the retired physician’s assistant keep active and outdoors, but it hasn’t been an easy hobby to pursue. He tried several groups in Denver, Colorado, but none could accommodate his needs. Many birders go off the beaten path, where Roark can’t go. And even outings in urban parks proved challenging; he frequently encountered a lack of accessible parking, terrain his wheels couldn’t navigate, and paths with hills that are too steep for him to manage. “It was a very frustrating thing,” he says.
This New Program in Denver Is Paving the Way for Birders With Reduced Mobility