Edie Perkins is an athlete, adventurer, and handcyclist. Edie traded running shoes for wheels after being struck by a car while on a bike ride in 2017. She is now paralyzed from the chest down and uses a wheelchair (or handcycle!) to get around. Since her injury, she has dedicated herself to empowering others with disabilities, advocating for access to recreational spaces, and helping people get active through adaptive sports.
In this post, Edie shares her trip to the Vermont Institute of Natural Science (VINS).
Even after four years in Vermont, I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface of what this beautiful state has to offer. So this summer and fall, I’ve made it my mission to get out and explore.
I’ve been paralyzed from the chest down since a 2017 car vs. cyclist injury (I was the cyclist) and now I use a wheelchair to get around. Exploring the outdoors looks a little different, but my love of nature hasn’t gone anywhere.
Fortunately, Vermont has been making tremendous strides improving accessibility in the outdoors. Check out the Trail Accessibility Hub (TAH), an incredible new resource that provides land managers with trail assessments, information, and guidance on how to make their trails accessible to more people. They have also been improving Trail Finder so that trail descriptions objectively share information about trail slope, grade, surface, width, and more. These details help all people, especially those of us who use mobility devices, to choose their own adventure. In my case, that means finding wheelchair and handcycle-friendly trails. The site has opened up new possibilities throughout the state for me.
One of the places I’ve been dying to explore? The Quechee Gorge, a Vermont State Park.
I’ve spent the past year heading to Vermont’s Upper Valley to visit my boyfriend’s family in Hartland. We exit I-89 and cross the gorge below via an overpass. Every time I strain my neck to get a glimpse. It never works. It’s made me want to see it up close ever since my first crossing.
I looked on Trail Finder and it wasn’t listed as accessible. But a few friends said the paths were packed gravel and it was worth a shot. Plus, the VT State Parks website showed a wheelchair icon, which for me meant: Let’s go!
So on a warm late October day (high 70s! In Vermont!) we pulled into a very crowded parking lot full of lingering leaf-peepers. Miraculously, there was an open accessible spot. Inside the Visitor’s Center, a nice man warned us about the steep hill to the river. Knowing I had a boyfriend-assist at the ready, we proceeded.
Despite the crowds, the forest swallowed up the noise. The giant trees hung on to what leaves they could, all of which were illuminated with afternoon autumn sunshine. A warm breeze rustled the leaves, and everything else disappeared.
Then came the real adventure.
The gravel path started gently enough, curving through the woods—until it didn’t. The slope steepened… then steepened more… and then kept right on steepening. No chance I would have managed it alone. When a trail pitches that sharply, I have to pop into a wheelie to keep control. I can do this—but let’s just say my confidence was, um, aspirational.
And honestly? Those views. Wow! The gorge is unbelievably narrow and deep—carved by fast-moving water that once powered Vermont’s largest woolen mill which was famous for its proprietary blends nationwide. The mill ran for over a century before the land became a state park in the 1960s. Today, nearly a quarter-million people visit each year. Suddenly the crowd around us made a lot more sense.
Eventually we made our way to the bottom where the gorge became a reservoir of calm water with small islands and exposed rocks. Kids, families, and dogs enjoyed the rocks soaking up the warm fall day. Waterlines etched in the cliffs made it clear how severe Vermont’s current drought truly is.
The climb back up was faster and easier (for me!). Not so much for my boyfriend who worked up a sweat. The whole out and back was about a mile. Even though it was a bit terrifying on the way down, I thoroughly enjoyed the excursion.
I’m still relatively new to exploring the woods in a wheelchair. Each outing feels like its own mini-thrill. And Quechee Gorge delivered: the vast forest, the golden light on the leaves, the breathtaking depth of the gorge—it all combined into one memorable adventure. I look forward to returning in the spring when the water runs high!
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