I’ve been planning a trip to Cleveland, Ohio and Buffalo, New York. In fact I am leaving tomorrow. My plan is to visit some friends in both cities and then drive up to Niagara Falls. I finally got my passport (which required three visits to a post office) and am hoping to use it for the first time.
I consider myself a pretty experienced solo travel through the United States. I’ve flown across the country from Orlando to Los Angeles, from Orlando to San Francisco, from Los Angeles to Portland. I spent two summers previously living in Cleveland when I interned at NASA, but this will be the first time I am flying through the Northeast US. It’s no coincidence I picked a time of year that didn’t involve the complications of snowstorms.
So here’s ideally how I would like my trip to go, if the inadequacy of our American travel system didn’t impair me more than any physical disability I have.
First, I would sign up for TSA precheck, which would allow me to avoid most of the hassles of the TSA checkpoint. I’d show up at the airport, breeze my way through TSA, and head to Starbucks to casually await my flight. I’d wait till a few minutes before my flight was ready to leave before briskly heading over to the gate to fly to Cleveland. I’d immediately get off the plane with my bags and quickly exit the airport to grab an Uber to my hotel. I’d spend a few days in Cleveland, using Uber and taxis to get around, before heading back to the airport and flying to Buffalo. Once again I’d get a taxi, spend a few days in town, then go back to the airport, go through TSA precheck, and fly directly back to Orlando.
For most people, this whole process is stressful and time consuming enough. It can be be really intimidating for anyone to travel alone, especially having to trust strangers to drive their cars and fly their planes. It’s a loss of control that bothers a lot of people, even experienced travelers.
Here’s how the actual plans for my trip have worked out. First I’ll drive myself to the airport, giving myself about 2.5 to 3 hours of time before my flight. This will ensure I have plenty of time to make it through TSA. I haven’t signed up for TSA precheck because there is no point – the TSA is going to hand pat me down no matter what I do. First I’ll be separated from my baggage including my wallet and phone. Those go through the X-ray machine while I get routed over to a holding area on the side. TSA will radio over for a male agent to come assist me. This could take anywhere from a few seconds to 20 minutes depending upon the speed of the agent. During this time I pretty much have to just pray nobody steals my bag as it waits for me on the other side of the X-ray machine. Eventually the male agent will arrive and pat down my arms, legs, back, and inner thighs. There’s really zero point to any of this as if I really wanted to sneak in anything I’d just sit on it or put it inside the cushions of my wheelchair.
In my experience the amount of time a TSA agent dedicates to me greatly varies. Sometimes it can literally take less than a minute. Other times I’ve had it take over an hour because they decided to use me as a training session for other agents. Or when the explosive residue machine gives one of its very common false positives which means I get to have my bags dumped out on the counter. They always ask if I want a “private screening” and I laugh saying no, I want this all out in the public for everyone to see. As fellow passengers pass me by they often try to avert their glare, hoping not to acknowledge the shameful abuse of a guy in a wheelchair funded by their tax dollars.
Eventually TSA will let me go and I will try to collect my bags. I’ll head over to the gate about an hour before my flight so that the gate agent can tag my wheelchair and ask about any assistance I will need boarding the plane. Once this is done, if I have any time left, I can explore the airport and relax until about half an hour before my flight is due to leave. Because that’s when the first passengers, aka me, get on the plane.
Within the US, I fly exclusively Southwest Airlines. I do this because they are only single class domestic carrier – that is they don’t have any business or first class cabins. It’s all coach. Or, as Southwest likes to claim, it’s “all first class.” Anyway, the biggest benefit for a wheelchair user on Southwest is that their single class cabins and open seating policy means you can literally sit in the seat closest to the airplane door. This greatly reduces the need to rely on an aisle chair and minimum wage airport employees strapping you into one.
For me, I am able to maneuver my wheelchair through the plane doors and right up near the front row of seats. I can then do a quick standing pivot and plop down. At this point my wheelchair is taken away and put underneath the airplane in the baggage hold. I won’t see it again until everyone else and their luggage has been removed from the plane after we land at our destination.
For this particular trip, I was able to book a direct flight from Orlando to Cleveland. This is a rare flight for Southwest, it only operates once a week, Saturday nights, and only during the summer. My flight tomorrow will be their last direct flight of the year. I wish I could fly to Cleveland in the morning, instead of arriving at 8:30pm on a Saturday. I could spend the whole day with my friends in Cleveland and then go to my hotel instead of simply flying in and paying for a hotel night to immediately fall asleep.
I obviously HIGHLY prefer direct flights without layovers because every layover means just another set of several hours dedicated to waiting for my wheelchair and waiting to be the first on and last off another flight. I prefer them so much that in this case I was willing to get to my destination too late to do anything for the day.
When I get to Cleveland, I will first need to wait for EVERYONE else to exit the plane. This takes about 20 minutes. Next, I wait for the airport workers to bring my wheelchair from underneath the plane up to the door. This will usually take another 20 minutes or so and can be an excruciating wait. Assuming I get my chair back, I’ll then need to wait for the airport shuttle to take me to the rental car lot. I assume they have a wheelchair accessible shuttle, but I might have to call someone and wait an hour for it to show up. I am not sure. I tried to call the Cleveland airport twice and simply got routed through an endless series of robotic options.
Of course, there will be no Uber rides because Uber does not support passengers in wheelchairs in Cleveland (or most cities).
After getting to the rental car lot around 9pm, I will be praying the entire time that the convertible car I have reserved will actually be there. If it’s not a convertible, I won’t be able to put the top down and put my wheelchair in the backseat on my own. Booking a convertible car is hard, there aren’t that many of them, they aren’t at many airports, and they cost a lot more.
In theory, Avis will install hand controls on a rental car for free. In reality, they dropped this policy years ago, and now only install hand controls on a few models of cars. They do this because it limits how much money they have to spend on different models of hand controls. Not surprising, Avis refuses to install hand controls on convertible cars. Which means I will be bringing my own set of hand controls with me and installing them in the car after my flight. This isn’t that hard, but it’s another bag of things for me to carry, and another task to accomplish on my own after a long flight.
Assuming I get my car, get my hand controls installed, I will be able to drive myself to my hotel. I’ve booked a wheelchair accessible room, but hotels seem to not bother noticing that half the time. Once again I tried calling the hotel but kept getting routed to their corporate customer number. And while it’s nice to hear the Indian man on the other end of the phone tell me my wheelchair accessible room is confirmed in Cleveland, I’d rather hear it from somebody who actually works on site at my hotel.
Hopefully by before 10pm, I’ll be settled in my hotel. I plan to be in Cleveland for two full days before hitting the road for a three hour drive to Buffalo. As difficult as flying is, I’m not exactly thrilled about driving 200 miles alone in a rental car, but unfortunately it’s the only option I have. Why? Because Buffalo airport doesn’t rent convertible cars and of course Uber does not support disabled passengers.
So I plan to drive to Buffalo, spend two full days there, see Niagara Falls, maybe get into Canada for a couple hours, and then drive back to Cleveland for my flight home. Why drive back to Cleveland to fly home instead of from Buffalo? Because Avis doesn’t allow one way car rentals between Cleveland and Buffalo.
There are plenty of direct flights from Buffalo to Orlando too. Unfortunately there are none from Cleveland to Orlando, so on my return trip, I’ll be spending a couple hours in Chicago.
I know for most people, the effort of having to do all this on what is suppose to be a vacation is probably not worth it. But it definitely is worth it for me. The amount of confidence boost I get from these kind of trips can’t be measured. I often feel so challenged by everyday life that I scoff at wanting to take on even harder new adventures. But I mean, what other option do I have if I want to see the world outside my hometown? I will be anxious often, I will be lonely at times on the road, but I will have a good time and come back feeling better about myself than I have in a long time.
Most of all I feel grateful that I am physically, mentally, and financially able to do all this. I have working hands that allow me to drive a car. I have strong upper body strength that let’s me carry my bags through an airport and propel myself into an airplane seat. I have the financial resources to book tickets, reserve hotel rooms, and rent cars, without having to worry too much about the price tag. And most important of all I have the mental strength to push myself out of my comfort zone just enough to accomplish goals I desire.