Author: Amy Tarpein

  • Leading the Way: Hendricks County Accessibility Summit

    Leading the Way: Hendricks County Accessibility Summit

    How Hendricks County, IN Became a National Model for Accessible, Inclusive Travel

    Most destinations talk about accessibility.

    Hendricks County is building it into the blueprint.

    In April, the county hosted its first-ever Accessibility Summit, bringing together tourism leaders, business owners, parks departments, nonprofits, and families with lived experience. It wasn’t a symbolic gathering. It was a working session, a place where real stories met real strategy, and where a community chose to move from awareness to action.

    As a mom traveling with a medically complex child, I’ve learned to recognize the difference between performative inclusion and the real thing. What I witnessed in Hendricks County was rare, a destination not just listening, but changing.

    An Accessibility Summit Rooted in Lived Experience

    The accessibility summit was born from a simple but powerful idea:

    Accessibility improves when the people most affected are invited to lead the conversation.

    Families shared what it feels like to navigate crowded spaces, unpredictable sensory environments, and attractions that weren’t designed with disability in mind. Business owners and tourism partners listened not defensively, but with curiosity and humility.

    This wasn’t a room full of experts talking at each other.

    It was a room full of neighbors learning from one another.

    The county’s tourism team emphasized that accessibility isn’t a checklist; it’s a culture. And culture shifts when people are willing to ask hard questions, hear hard truths, and commit to meaningful change.

    Two women lead a conference one standing behind a podium and one excited the words Accessibility Summit are on a big screen behind them
    A group of people stand in front of an empty pool discussing accessibility

    From Conversation to Action

    What impressed me most was how quickly Hendricks County moved from listening to doing.

    Participants left the accessibility summit with actionable steps, including:

    • Creating sensory‑friendly experiences at attractions, museums, and events
    • Improving physical accessibility in parks, trails, and public spaces
    • Training staff in disability‑inclusive hospitality across hotels, restaurants, and venues
    • Developing adaptive outdoor opportunities, including Grit Freedom Chair access
    • Building inclusive dining environments with room to maneuver and flexible seating
    • Strengthening partnerships with disability organizations to ensure ongoing accountability

    This wasn’t a one‑day event.

    It was the beginning of a long-term commitment.

    A County Willing to Lead

    What sets Hendricks County apart is not perfection, but willingness.

    Willingness to learn.

    To change.

    Willingness to lead.

    The accessibility summit made one thing clear: this community understands that accessibility is not a trend or a marketing angle. It’s a responsibility. And when destinations embrace that responsibility, families like mine feel something we rarely feel when we travel:

    Belonging.

    A woman takes pictures of accessible spaces in an arcade.
    Four kids in blue shirts smile in front of a waterfall one small boy is in a wheelchair

    Why This Matters for Families Like Mine

    Traveling with a medically complex child means every outing is a calculation.

    Will there be shade?

    Will there be space?

    What about understanding?

    In Hendricks County, the answer is yes, not because they have all the answers, but because they are committed to finding them.

    The accessibility summit validated something I’ve believed for years:

    Accessibility grows when communities choose to listen to lived experience.

    And Hendricks County is choosing that path boldly.

    ACCESSIBILITY NOTES: Hendricks County’s Leadership in Action

    Staff trained in disability‑inclusive hospitality Businesses are learning how to welcome families with dignity and ease.

    Sensory‑friendly experiences. Attractions are adopting quiet hours, reduced‑stimulus environments, and sensory tools.

    Zero‑entry pools & adaptive equipment. Aquatic centers are expanding barrier‑free water access.

    Inclusive dining, restaurants are rethinking layout, flow, and staff training.

    Accessible entertainment venues Theaters and museums, are improving seating, pathways, and communication.

    Grit Freedom Chair outdoor access Parks are partnering to open trails to wheelchair users.

    Staff trained in disability‑inclusive hospitality Businesses are learning how to welcome families with dignity and ease.

    Two people stand by an indoor pool going over a list
    A woman taking pictures of accessible options at a pool

    A Blueprint for the Future

    Hendricks County isn’t just improving accessibility.

    They’re modeling what it looks like when a community chooses inclusion as its foundation.

    They’re proving that accessibility isn’t a burden, it’s a bridge.

    A bridge to belonging.

    To joy.

    A bridge to a world where every family, every body, and every story has a place.

    And that is leadership worth celebrating.

  • What Traveling With a Medically Complex Child Really Looks Like

    What Traveling With a Medically Complex Child Really Looks Like

    Traveling with a medically complex child is often described as “brave,” “inspiring,” or “impossible.” But the truth is quieter and more complicated than any of those words. It’s not a single story. It’s a thousand tiny ones, stitched together by love, logistics, and the kind of determination you only discover when you get outside your comfort zone.

    I travel with my four youngest kids, including my youngest son who is medically complex and terminally ill. Our trips aren’t spontaneous. They aren’t simple. They aren’t carefree. But they are full of meaning, joy, and moments that feel like miracles.

    This is what it really looks like.

    It Looks Like Packing for Two Entire Realities

    Most families pack clothes, snacks, and maybe a favorite stuffed animal. We pack those too, but we also pack:

    • Medications with exact timing
    • Backup medications in case the first set gets lost
    • Feeding supplies
    • Medical equipment
    • Emergency documents
    • A plan A, B, C, and D

    Traveling with a medically complex child means preparing for the version of the trip you hope for and the version you pray never happens. But that is life in a nutshell.

    And still, we go.

    A stack of two white suitcases with brown accents and a white backpack on top, placed next to a wooden table with a lamp in a hotel room.
    A person sitting in a quiet spot holding and smiling with a child in their lap. The child appears joyful, wearing a blue shirt and light shorts. In the foreground, there is a plush dog toy.

    It Looks Like Moving Slower Than the World Around You

    We don’t rush through airports. Or sprint to catch a show. We don’t squeeze in “just one more stop.”

    We move at the pace of my son’s body.

    Some days that means we see everything. Sometimes that means we see one thing. Some days that means we see nothing at all except each other.

    And that has to be enough.

    And honestly, that slowing down changed my life and how I live it.

    It Looks Like Advocating Every Single Day

    Accessibility isn’t guaranteed. It isn’t consistent. It isn’t always understood. That is why we do what we do!

    So I advocate. I explain. We ask for help. I ask again, clarify, correct, and push back when I need to. I breathe through the moments when I shouldn’t have to.

    Traveling with a medically complex child means being your child’s voice in every space you enter. It means hoping the world is kind and pivoting when it isn’t.

    Three individuals navigating a stairway with luggage, including a child in a wheelchair, in a well-lit corridor.
    A group of five people sitting on a porch made of logs, a woman and four children, one child in a wheelchair, enjoying time together.

    It Looks Like Finding Joy in the Smallest Places

    A quiet corner in a museum, a ramp that wasn’t listed online. A staff member who kneels down to say hello. Maybe a crowd-free balcony where your child can watch Old Faithful without feeling overwhelmed. Or a donut shop that opens early enough for your family’s medical schedule.

    These moments feel like gifts. They feel like someone thought of us. They feel like belonging.

    And when you’re traveling with a child who requires extra care, belonging matters more than anything.

    It Looks Like Grief and Gratitude Living Side by Side

    Traveling with a terminally ill child means holding two truths at once.

    You are making memories you will cherish forever. You are making memories because you don’t know how much time you have. But he has taught me that none of us know how much time we have. So making memories alongside the people you love is important!

    Every trip is a love letter. Each photo is a prayer. Every moment is a reminder that joy and heartbreak can share the same breath.

    Four children in matching blue shirts pose at a scenic overlook with a waterfall and forest in the background, one child is in a wheelchair.
    A group of four smiling individuals posing for a selfie on a boat with a city skyline in the background during sunset. One is in a wheelchair

    It Looks Like Siblings Who Learn Compassion Early

    My other kids don’t get the version of childhood where everything is fair. They get the version where everything is shared.

    They help carry bags. Help push the wheelchair. They help calm their brother when the world gets too loud. Celebrate the small wins like they’re fireworks.

    They are learning what it means to love someone through limitations, not in spite of them. And I feel like that is a life lesson we can all learn!

    It Looks Like Choosing Wonder Anyway

    Traveling with a medically complex child is not easy. It is not simple. It is not predictable.

    But it is beautiful.

    Because every time we load the van, every time we check into a hotel, every time we roll onto a boardwalk or into a museum or down a trail, we are choosing wonder over fear.

    We are choosing life.

    We are choosing each other.

    And that is what traveling with a medically complex child really looks like.

    Family posing in front of a large rock formation Devils Tower with trees and a clear sky in the background.
    Two children enjoying an amusement park ride designed for wheelchair users, one child in a wheelchair with a stuffed animal and the other pushing from behind, both wearing sunglasses.

    Let’s Make Your Next Trip Easier

    If you’re a parent or caregiver traveling with a medically complex child, a disabled child, or a family with diverse needs, I would love to support you on your journey. I created a free, practical, easy-to-use Accessible Family Travel Packing Guide to help you feel more prepared and less overwhelmed on your next adventure.

    Sign up for my newsletter, and you’ll get a downloadable copy of the guide. You’ll also receive stories, tips, destination ideas, and encouragement from a community that understands what traveling with unique needs really looks like.

    You don’t have to figure this out alone. Join us and take the first step toward travel that feels possible, joyful, and supported.

  • Yellowstone With a Medically Complex Child: How Accessible Is America’s Oldest National Park?

    Yellowstone With a Medically Complex Child: How Accessible Is America’s Oldest National Park?

    Yellowstone National Park is known for its geysers, wildlife, and dramatic landscapes, but what many families don’t realize is just how accessible this iconic destination can be. As a single mom traveling with a medically complex child and three other mini‑humans, accessibility isn’t a bonus for us. It’s the difference between participating and sitting on the sidelines.

    During our multi‑day adventure through Yellowstone, we discovered accessible boardwalks. We enjoyed sensory‑friendly experiences and found crowd‑free viewpoints. The staff genuinely care about making the park welcoming for everyone. Here’s what accessibility in Yellowstone looks like through the eyes of a real family living it.

    Day 1: The Drive From Cody Where Beauty and Resilience Meet

    The drive from Cody into Yellowstone is the kind of beauty that sneaks up on you. One minute you’re winding through Wyoming’s rugged terrain, and the next you’re surrounded by landscapes so breathtaking they feel unreal.

    We pulled off near a lake as the mountains opened up around us. Yellow wildflowers were growing right at the water’s edge, tiny bursts of sunshine against the stone and sky. As I stood there taking it in, I heard a soft hiss to my right. Isaiah and I turned to see a steam vent only a few yards away, quietly exhaling into the cool air.

    It was such a gentle reminder of what Yellowstone really is: a place where beauty and harshness live side by side. And honestly, it felt like our life. The wildflowers and the steam vent, joy and challenge, are both part of the same story. Both are shaping us. Both remind me that even in the hardest seasons, something beautiful is still growing.

    That moment set the tone for everything that followed.

    A scenic view of a calm lake surrounded by yellow wildflowers and grass, under a bright blue sky with fluffy clouds.
    A young boy in a car seat smiles while holding a yellow paper, with a child in the background also seated in the vehicle. Another hand is visible in the foreground holding a pen.

    Accessibility Starts at the Gate, Literally

    When we entered Yellowstone, the accessibility wins started immediately.

    The ranger handed us a full binder of accessible highlights throughout the park. It included every wheelchair‑friendly boardwalk and every viewpoint with smooth pathways. There was information about every accessible restroom and every area where mobility devices could comfortably navigate. It felt like someone had already walked the park with families like ours in mind.

    If you’re disabled, you can get a free National Parks Access Pass. Everyone in your vehicle gets into Yellowstone at no cost. For families managing medical equipment and mobility devices, support is crucial. This is especially true for the unpredictable needs of a medically complex child.

    The kids were also given a Yellowstone animal‑spotting coloring page, which quickly became the most intense competition in the car. I’m almost convinced the park hands these out so you’re extra alert for anything that might dart across the road, a brilliant safety strategy disguised as fun.

    Visitors Center, Inspiring People & Accessible Highlights

    We stopped at the Yellowstone Visitors Center before the car trouble rerouted our plans. It instantly set the tone for the kind of experience we were about to have. The staff was warm, welcoming, and genuinely invested in helping families like ours navigate the park with ease.

    Yellowstone truly became our playground that day.

    We met some inspiring people. One of them was a photographer who gifted us an incredible family photo op. It was one of those unexpected kindnesses that stays with you long after the moment passes. We explored several accessible spots from the start. This gave Elijah the chance to roll up and look out. He was able to be part of the experience without barriers or limitations.

    It was a perfect introduction to a park. We were repeatedly surprised by its thoughtful accommodations for families. The park effectively supports families with mobility and medical needs.

    A child in a wheelchair is preparing to use a ramp for accessibility into a building. Traffic cones are placed near the ramp.
    A serene view of a winding river surrounded by lush green grass and dense forests, with fallen logs and tall trees in the background under a clear blue sky.

    Car Trouble, the North Entrance, and a Detour to Livingston

    Because no epic adventure is complete without a little chaos, Day 1 also handed us some car trouble. Instead of heading deeper into the park, we found ourselves exiting through the North Entrance and driving to Livingston.

    Livingston turned out to be exactly what we needed. It was a parts store, an oil change, and a place to stay. That didn’t break the bank like lodging right outside the North Entrance can. It wasn’t the plan, but it was the pivot we needed to keep going.

    And honestly, that’s accessible travel in a nutshell: flexibility, resourcefulness, and the willingness to reroute when life demands it.

    Day 2: Groceries, Side Roads, Tower Fall & Finding Our Rhythm

    Day 2 began with a grocery stop, the kind of practical moment that grounds every big adventure. Once we were stocked up, we headed back through the North Entrance, this time turning toward the Northwest Entrance.

    We took side roads that offered some of the most incredible views right from the van windows. Wide pull‑offs made it easy to stop, breathe, and let Elijah take in the scenery without rushing.

    Just outside the Northwest Gate, we turned around and headed south again, making our way toward Tower Fall. The overlook there is stunning, and the accessible areas gave us a chance to stretch, regroup, and enjoy the moment.

    A bathroom break at Canyon Village was next, a small but essential detail for families traveling with medical needs. Yellowstone’s accessible restrooms were clean, spacious, and easy to navigate, which made a world of difference.

    From there, we continued to several other pull‑offs and drive‑through geothermal areas. Each stop offered something new: colors, textures, steam, bubbling earth, all accessible or visible from the van, all mesmerizing.

    A panoramic landscape view showcasing rolling hills, a lone tree, and a vibrant blue sky filled with clouds. The scene captures the natural beauty of a mountainous region with patches of green forest and dry terrain.
    A vibrant sunset sky featuring a gradient of purple and blue hues, with wispy clouds and distant mountains silhouetted against the horizon.

    Evening Reflections and New Discoveries

    By evening, we exited through the West Entrance. There, we found a McDonald’s (a victory in itself after a long day with mini-humans). We also discovered an affordable, family‑friendly hotel: Yellowstone West Gate Hotel. This became our home base for the rest of the trip. Nearby grocery stores and gas stations made it easy to reset, recharge, and prepare for the next day’s adventures.

    Day 3: Early‑Morning Paint Pots, Sensory Tips & A Crowd‑Free Old Faithful

    Day 3 started bright and early at the Paint Pots. It turned out to be one of the best decisions we made. Arriving first thing in the morning meant zero crowds. The boardwalks were wide‑open, and there was space for Elijah to move at his own pace without weaving around people.

    If you or your kids are sensitive to smells, here’s something to know: Some areas have strong sulfur odors. A couple of my kids used face coverings, and it helped tremendously. It’s a small adjustment that can make the experience much more comfortable for sensory‑sensitive travelers.

    After exploring the geothermal features, we headed to the historic Old Faithful Inn. We grabbed ice cream (because dessert first is a lifestyle) and took a side elevator up to a semi‑private balcony. It offered a shaded, crowd‑free view of Old Faithful. The kind of peaceful, accessible moment that feels almost unreal in a place known for heavy tourism.

    It was one of those rare travel moments where everything aligned. There was accessibility, comfort, and joy. It had the kind of magic that stays with you long after the trip ends.

    A vibrant hot spring with clear blue water surrounded by orange and yellow mineral deposits, set against a backdrop of green trees and a cloudy blue sky.
    Two boys one in a wheelchair laughing and enjoying a boat ride, with lush mountains and water in the background.

    Day 4: Leaving Yellowstone, Entering the Tetons And Finding Freedom

    As we wrapped up our Yellowstone adventures and headed south, the Grand Tetons rose up like a promise. Their jagged peaks and peaceful valleys welcomed us into a new chapter of the trip.

    At Jenny Lake, we boarded an accessible boat that carried us across shimmering water. Watching Elijah and Isaiah with the wind in their hair, laughing, free, fully included was everything. As a mom who’s been told all the things Elijah may never do, moments like this feel like miracles.

    Accessibility isn’t just about access. It’s about possibility.

    Final Thoughts: So… Is Yellowstone Accessible?

    Yes, far more than I expected.

    Is it perfect? No. But Yellowstone offers:

    • Wide, smooth boardwalks
    • Accessible viewpoints
    • Spacious pull‑offs
    • Sensory‑friendly alternatives to crowded areas
    • Staff who are genuinely helpful
    • Boat rides and experiences that include wheelchair users
    • Opportunities for medically complex kids to participate fully
    A person walking on a wooden path in a grassy area, pushing a stroller with trees and a blue sky in the background, adorned with fluffy clouds.

    Accessibility in Yellowstone National Park for Medically Complex Children

    Yellowstone National Park is famous for its breathtaking landscapes. It also has fascinating geothermal features. However, it poses unique challenges for families with medically complex children. Understanding the level of accessibility available in this iconic national park is crucial for families planning their visit.

    Navigating the Park

    While many trails and attractions are designed to be accessible, navigating Yellowstone with a medically complex child requires careful planning. The park offers several accessible viewpoints and paved paths, allowing families to experience the stunning vistas without the need for extensive treks.

    Medical Facilities

    Although the park is equipped with basic medical services, families should be aware that these are limited. It’s advisable to carry any necessary medications and medical supplies. Additionally, knowing the locations of the nearest medical facilities outside the park can provide peace of mind.

    Practical Tips

    1. Plan Ahead: Research accessible accommodations and dining options in advance.
    2. Check Accessibility Features: Review the park’s official website for details on accessible services and locations.
    3. Prepare for Varied Terrain: Some areas may have rougher terrain, so an all-terrain wheelchair or stroller may be beneficial. Everything we did was with a regular Zippie Iris pediatric wheelchair

    Conclusion

    With thoughtful preparation and awareness of available resources, families with medically complex children can create memorable experiences in Yellowstone National Park. Enjoying the wonders of nature while ensuring comfort and safety can lead to wonderful adventures in America’s first national park.

    Yellowstone reminded me that the world is more open to Elijah than the limits others place on his life. It showed me that beauty and challenge can coexist — in nature, in motherhood, and in every mile of this journey.

    Life truly is an epic adventure, and I’m grateful for every moment we get to explore it together.

  • Exploring the San Antonio River Walk With Kids & Wheelchairs: Our Accessible Family Experience

    Exploring the San Antonio River Walk With Kids & Wheelchairs: Our Accessible Family Experience

    San Antonio’s River Walk feels like something out of a storybook. It features lush greenery and stone bridges. You can see glowing lights dancing across the water. But what made it unforgettable for us wasn’t just the scenery. Our family moved through it with ease. San Antonio River Walk accessibility is truly impressive. The mini-humans did so with joy and a sense of belonging.

    And it was made even sweeter because we weren’t alone. We met up with a friend, a little girl named E, who also uses a wheelchair, and her mom, Neely. Watching the kids play together along the water laughing, racing, inventing games only kids can dream up felt like a reminder of why we do this. Why we travel. Why we keep showing up in the world with our wheels, our courage, and our hope.

    A young girl in a wheelchair sits on a path, while another person with red hair and a black hoodie faces her. Surrounding trees are visible, and there are other people walking in the background.

    Then something happened that I’ll never forget.

    As the kids played, random people walking by started joining in cheering them on, giving E high‑fives, smiling with that kind of genuine warmth you can’t fake. It was simple, spontaneous, and so deeply human. For a moment, the world felt exactly as it should be. It was inclusive and joyful. People saw our kids not as limitations, but as light.

    It wasn’t just a walk. It was community in motion.

    How Accessible Is the San Antonio River Walk? Our Honest Experience

    We explored the River Walk a handful of times. Both during the day, when it was buzzing with life, and again at night. When everything softened into a calmer, more sensory‑friendly version of itself. We even enjoyed dinner together one evening by the river. We were pleasantly surprised by how accessible it felt.

    A group of four people, including children, sitting at a table by a river in a cozy, illuminated restaurant. They are looking at menus with a relaxed atmosphere.
    Scenic view of a canal with a stone bridge, surrounded by trees and a flower pot, featuring a brick pathway along the water's edge.

    Smooth Pathways (With a Few Cobblestones)

    There are a few cobblestone patches, but nothing we couldn’t navigate with two different manual chairs. Most of the River Walk is smooth and steady. It’s easier to roll on than the street‑side walk we took to the Alamo. But that is another blog post!

    ADA Map You Can Scan on the Spot

    One of the best features is the scannable ADA map posted along the route. It gives you instant access to ramps, elevators, and accessible paths. For families like ours, that information isn’t just helpful, it’s empowering. When Isaiah saw it, he said, ” We need to share that with EVERYONE!

    Sign for River Walk A.D.A. maps, featuring a QR code, near a waterway with people walking in the background.
    A curving walkway over a canal, surrounded by greenery and buildings. People are walking along the path and on a bridge above the water.

    One Long Ramp (But It’s Avoidable)

    We did face one ramp that was long and tiring in a manual wheelchair. It’s doable, but it may require a pause or a push assist. The good news? The River Walk has an ADA map, so you can choose your direction and avoid climbing it if you prefer.

    Day vs. Night: Two Very Different Experiences

    • Daytime: Busy, lively, full of movement.
    • Nighttime: Softer lighting, fewer crowds, gentler sensory experience.

    Elijah especially loved the nighttime walk. There was less noise and more space. A sense of peace wrapped around us like a warm blanket.

    Nighttime view of a historic building with a prominent clock tower and a Texas flag, surrounded by brick structures illuminated by lights.
    A child in a wheelchair is being pushed along a stone pathway beside a building, with a tiled mural visible on the wall and benches.

    Plenty of Rest Spots & Restaurants

    There are benches, ledges, and places to sit everywhere. With kids and wheelchairs, that’s a gift. And the number of restaurants means you’re never far from a snack, a drink, or a break.

    Accessible Boats

    Yes, you can absolutely enjoy the River Walk from the water. The accessible water taxis and boat tours were a highlight. You can even buy a daily pass to hop on and off.

    A scenic view of a river with a boat carrying passengers, surrounded by buildings and trees, seen from under a bridge.
    A joyful child in a wheelchair smiles and plays outdoors near a scenic river, with a stone bridge and trees in the background.

    A Moment That Stuck With Me

    There was a moment. It was one of those quiet times you don’t plan for. The kids were playing, and the lights shimmered across the water. Elijah leaned into me with that soft, contented laugh he does.

    And I thought: This is why we chase these moments. This is why accessibility matters. This is why families like ours deserve to be here, fully included, fully welcomed.

    The River Walk didn’t just give us a place to explore. It gave us a memory we’ll carry forever.

    Final Thoughts

    The San Antonio River Walk accessibility isn’t perfect, nothing is! But it’s far more accessible than we expected. The pathways are mostly smooth. ADA signage is helpful. There are plenty of rest spots. Accessible boat options are available. It’s a destination that welcomes families like ours with intention and care.

    If you are planning a trip to San Antonio and wondering whether the River Walk is wheelchair-accessible. Our experience says yes. It’s beautiful, manageable, and full of moments worth remembering.

    A tunnel with a red tiled archway, illuminated with soft lighting, leading to a pathway. In the foreground, a group of three individuals with a wheelchair is seen entering the tunnel.

    Know Before You Go: San Antonio River Walk Accessibility Checklist

    Before You Arrive

    • Check the scannable ADA map locations, so you know where ramps and elevators are.
    • Plan your route to avoid the long uphill ramp.
    • Decide whether you want to explore daytime energy or the quieter nighttime version.
    • If you’re considering a boat tour, look up accessible water taxi stops in advance.

    Mobility & Pathways

    • Expect mostly smooth pathways with a few cobblestone sections.
    • Manual chair users may feel some vibration in textured areas, but they’re short.
    • The River Walk has an ADA map, so you can choose the direction that works best for your mobility needs.
    • Bring gloves or push‑assist gear if long ramps are tiring.

    Crowds & Sensory Considerations

    • Daytime = busy, lively, more weaving through people.
    • Nighttime = calmer, softer lighting, more sensory‑friendly.
    • If you’re traveling with sensory needs, consider visiting after sunset for a gentler experience.
    A delicious burger topped with onions and a flag, served with a side of crispy French fries in a metal cup. The setting features an outdoor dining area with people in the background.

    Rest Stops & Dining

    • Benches and seating areas line the route.
    • Many restaurants have accessible entrances, but some have steps; check before committing. You can access outdoor dining all along the River Walk.
    • Hydration and snack breaks are easy thanks to the number of stops.

    Accessible Boat Options

    • Accessible water taxis and boat tours are available.
    • You can purchase a daily pass if you want to hop on and off.
    • Staff are generally helpful with boarding and positioning.

    What to Bring

    • A portable wheelchair cushion if cobblestone vibration is uncomfortable.
    • A small flashlight for nighttime navigation (lighting is soft and pretty, but dim in spots).
    • Backup charging for power‑assist devices.
    • A light jacket, the river breeze can be cool at night.

    Parking & Access Points

    • Look for accessible parking near the River Walk’s main entrances. We entered from out hotel.
    • Elevators are available at several access points, but some are tucked away. The ADA map helps.

    ️ Family Tips

    • Build in time for rest breaks. There’s plenty to see without rushing.
    • If you’re traveling with kids, the nighttime walk is calmer and easier to manage.
    • The River Walk feels safe and well‑lit, making evening strolls comfortable for families.

  • The Origin Story Behind Elijah’s Baby Bucket List

    The Origin Story Behind Elijah’s Baby Bucket List

    Origin story of Elijah’s Baby Bucket List. A journey of faith, family, and choosing joy on purpose.

    Some stories don’t start with a plan. They start with a moment, the kind that splits your life into a before and an after. For me, that moment happened in a neurologist’s office. I heard the words no parent is ever prepared to get. A terminal prognosis. With a future full of unknowns. A timeline no one could promise. The origin story of Elijah’s Baby Bucket List began right there in that office.

    As a single mom of ten, I felt the weight of that moment. It was both crushing and clarifying. There was no one to hand the decision-making over to. No one to trade shifts with. No one to steady the room when it started to spin. It was just the children who were looking to me for strength, and me.

    I remember holding this tiny sleeping baby. The world tilted. I had only one clear thought: If time is uncertain, then joy cannot wait.

    That single conviction became the heartbeat of everything that followed.

    The Drive That Changed Everything

    From the hospital parking garage, I decided to pivot. I loaded Elijah and his siblings into the car and started driving. There was no itinerary or hotel reservation. I had no plan beyond getting to the ocean. Thirteen hours from Illinois to Jacksonville Beach, chasing something I couldn’t name yet. Hope. Clarity. Maybe a miracle.

    When we arrived, the world felt strangely still. The waves rolled in like a promise. I told my children the truth about Elijah’s diagnosis. We cried. We held each other. And then, in the most unexpected moment of peace, we looked out at the ocean. The beginning of something sacred.

    That day wasn’t just the start of a trip. It was the start of Elijah’s Baby Bucket List.

    A group of five children posing together outdoors with a scenic mountain backdrop. One older child is holding a baby, while the others are smiling for the camera.
    A group of five children, sitting on the shore of a beach, with waves gently washing over their legs. They are wearing swimsuits and facing the ocean under a partly cloudy sky.

    A Vow Made at the Water’s Edge

    Standing on that shoreline, I made a vow. Elijah and his siblings would have an incredible life together. Their life would be overflowing with wonder, connection, and joy.

    Not someday. Not when things were easier. Or when we had more time. But now.

    We would chase sunsets and mountaintops. Find beauty in the ordinary and the extraordinary. We would choose joy on purpose, even when the world felt heavy.

    And we would do it together.

    From One Trip to a Movement

    What started as a spontaneous drive to the ocean turned into a mission. It has carried us through forests, mountains, lakes, and long stretches of open road. Become a way of living. It is rooted in faith and resilience. It includes the belief that accessibility should never be a barrier to joy.

    As we traveled, I documented everything. Noted the wins, the challenges, and the accessibility gaps. I captured the moments of awe and the kindness of strangers. Elijah’s smile can light up an entire trail.

    People began following our journey. Then sharing it. Then asking how they can help.

    What started as a mother’s vow has become a global community. A resource. A movement for accessible family travel.

    Group of four children and a young adult posing in front of a large rock formation under a clear blue sky.
    A diverse group of people, including children and adults, wearing life jackets, posing enthusiastically by a lake. Some are holding paddles, and one individual is in a wheelchair. The background features trees and water activities.

    Why This Story Still Matters

    Every partnership, every interview, every destination we visit, it all comes back to that first moment on the beach. The vow. The purpose. The belief that families like mine deserve to experience the world together with dignity, comfort, and joy. The origin story of Elijah’s Baby Bucket List has shaped our family. It has also influenced a wider community.

    Elijah’s Baby Bucket List isn’t about checking off places. It’s about choosing joy before fear. Connection before convenience. Faith before certainty.

    It’s about living fully, right now. And giving others the courage to do it too!

    The Mission Going Forward

    Today, our journey continues with a bigger purpose:

    • advocating for accessible travel
    • partnering with destinations ready to welcome families like ours
    • creating resources for caregivers
    • building a nonprofit to support epic adventures for medically complex families
    • and telling the stories that remind us all to savor the moments that matter

    Because if there’s one thing this journey has taught me, it’s this: Joy is not something you wait for. It’s something you choose again and again.

    And we are choosing it every day!

    Two children one in a wheelchair posing in front of a large Halloween-themed pumpkin display in a park, with a cloudy sky in the background.