A cold March afternoon greeted us as
we arrived at Wupatki National Monument, where the ancient red stone walls of
Wupatki Pueblo rose from the high desert beneath a sky filled with passing snow
showers. The weather only added to the atmosphere. The dramatic clouds, crisp
air, and empty landscape made it feel as though we had stepped back nearly a
thousand years to when this remarkable pueblo was home to hundreds of people.
The National Park Service had already
made an effort to improve accessibility. From the visitor center, a paved path
leads approximately 200 feet to the overlook, providing an outstanding
panoramic view of the pueblo for visitors using wheelchairs or strollers.
Beyond that point, however, the official accessibility ends.
The remainder of the one-mile loop
follows compacted decomposed granite over rolling terrain. While much of the
surface is surprisingly firm and could be considered wheelchair friendly, the
trail is not designated as accessible because of its steep grades. Even more
frustrating, several flights of stairs block the most direct route into the
main pueblo. Visitors can avoid the stairs by traveling clockwise around the
loop, but eventually the trail climbs steeply behind the pueblo before reaching
the official wheelchair turnaround.
For many families, that turnaround
would mark the end of the adventure.
Not for us.
This was still the early days of
traveling with Kellisa, long before Kellisa's Path existed. We were
still learning what was possible and discovering that accessibility often
depended more on determination than signage. Instead of stopping at the
overlook, we loaded Kellisa into her jog stroller and continued around the
entire trail.
The stroller proved to be the perfect
adventure vehicle. Chris pushed over slick sandstone shelves, rocky sections,
and steep grades while Lisa helped navigate around obstacles. We bypassed the
staircases by taking the alternate route and carefully worked our way over
terrain that certainly wasn't designed for wheels. It wasn't easy, but it
allowed Kellisa to experience every part of the pueblo instead of viewing it
from a distance.
Standing above the massive stone
walls, it was impossible not to admire the engineering of the ancient builders.
Multi-story rooms, narrow passageways, and sweeping views across the Painted
Desert created one of the most impressive archaeological sites we had visited.
The snow showers drifting across the distant mesas made the landscape even more
memorable, contrasting beautifully with the deep red sandstone ruins.
Looking back today, it's difficult not
to think about what could be.
The trail is already so close to being
universally accessible. With reasonable improvements—replacing a few stair
sections with gently graded ramps, easing several steep grades, and smoothing a
handful of rocky transitions—the entire loop could likely become ADA
accessible. Visitors using wheelchairs could explore every viewpoint, circle
the pueblo, and experience the monument just as we did that chilly afternoon,
without needing an off-road stroller or extra assistance.
Because this trip happened years
before we began documenting our adventures online, we captured only a handful
of photographs. Yet those few images tell an important story. They remind us
that accessibility isn't simply about reaching an overlook—it's about having
the opportunity to experience the entire destination.
Our afternoon at Wupatki Pueblo became
another early lesson that would eventually shape Kellisa's Path: sometimes the
greatest adventures begin where the accessible path ends, but with thoughtful
design, they wouldn't have to.
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