The disabled association phoned. Someone was ill and therefore they had a free spot to go hiking. Was I interested?
Was I!
Hiking is probably the thing I miss most since I’ve been an amputee. Certainly, I miss it more than the ability to hang up sheets to dry.
I wasn’t sure how it would work, but Carlos drove me up to the meeting point at Pared Vieja in the laurel forest. I love laurel forest. I couldn’t tell you why, but it feels like there should be elves and leprechauns and gnomes living in it. Somehow it seems older and more mysterious than pine forests. Perhaps it’s because it’s denser and you can’t see as far.
We had a little trouble finding the group, particularly as it’s awkward to push and pull a wheelchair over roots and stones. Eventually Rai from the association turned up, and told us where to find the group.
My goodness, what a lot of people. Perhaps 20 able-bodied and four disabled people including me. I knew the other disabled people slightly. We chatted while we waited for people to arrive and I found out how wheelchair uses go hiking on La Palma.
The cabildo (island council) has four jolettes, which they loan out for free. The disabled person sits on top of a big wheel with long shafts each side of them for kind volunteers to lug them along. You can extend three vertical posts to stabilise the joelette so the disabled person can get it, or at rest stops, which turns out to be very fiddly.
Eventually, we were off along the path towards the old tunnel through the cumbre. At first, it felt unstable and insecure, and I joked that if we tipped over, at least it wouldn’t be far to fall, but with three people to pull and balance me, that wasn’t going to happen. It was wonderful to smell the green smell and watch the trees glide past, but also bittersweet. We were a big group, so there were no birds. I mentioned that I missed being about to stop and photograph things like fungi, so someone took a photo for me. It fed something deep in my soul, and at the same time it threw into sharp relief how limited I was now. I was deeply disappointed when we turned around after three kilometres. Of course, I wasn’t pulling.
Afterwards, we had a picnic. Everyone else had brought things to share, but I hadn’t known. Nobody seemed to mind. They kept putting homemade delicacies under my nose. “Try this, Sheila. Try that. Would you like some wine?” Lovely, lovely people.
Yes, I’d love to do it again.
