Travel

This article addresses some of the issues that I have encountered as a US business traveler who uses a wheelchair. It doesn’t attempt to cover the situations encountered by every disabled traveler — I use a folding manual wheelchair and am only speaking to my own experience. That said, here are some of my thoughts and experiences.

Planning

A really mellow attitude helps when you’re traveling, whether for business or pleasure. I already know that many of my daily activities take longer than they would an able-bodied person, and that goes double for travel. Unlike many business travelers who know to the second how late they can gallop to the gate, I allow lots of time on travel day.

It only took me two or three trips to get over my inhibition against asking for help. I ask for hotel rooms closer to the elevator, for help with luggage, for help moving furniture in hotel rooms, for preboarding (over and over and over again). I am liberal with thanks and tips. My employer reimburses tips, so I don’t hesitate. Enough attitude adjustment, already, on to some useful information.

Booking

I get non-stop or direct flights whenever possible. If I must book a connecting flight, I insist on at least an hour between flights. Sometimes this means I wait around (see Allow Plenty of Time), but so far I haven’t missed a connecting flight. When connecting, I ask to be met and assisted, especially in an unfamiliar airport. This way I get someone to push me to my gate, which saves wear and tear on me, as well as saving aimless wandering around. It would be nice if more airports had web sites with airport maps, so that travelers could get an advance idea of how far away their gates are.

One thing to pay attention to, especially for very short hops, is plane size, because smaller planes may not use the jetway, and you may need to arrange for assistance up the stairs.

Seat Assignment

I look for two things in seat assignment: close to the front of the aircraft, and with a moveable armrest on the aisle seat. The travel agent can help with the first, but watch out again for small planes — I got seat 12B on a trip between Washington and Raleigh once. On a Boeing 777, 12B is very close to the front of economy class, but on a tiny prop plane, it’s the last row! Travel agents are not as much help with the moveable armrests. Aircraft with 30 or more seats are supposed to have several rows with moveable aisle armrests, but I haven’t discerned any rhyme or reason in their placement. The newer and bigger the plane, the more moveable armrests there are. I usually call the airline two or three times before finding someone who can figure out which are the magic rows. On some airlines, the agent has to place a request for a wheelchair before the computer will release one of those seats — go ahead and do it, you don’t have to actually use the airline’s wheelchair.

The Flight

Checking in

Despite the horror stories about checked luggage going astray, it’s the only way to fly if you use a wheelchair. Keep carryon baggage to a minimum. Now that I travel with a laptop, that’s a little more difficult, since my employer (understandably) prefers that I not check the laptop. My current solution to the laptop problem is to pack all of the laptop accessories in my checked luggage and carry only the computer itself. If you download some reading material from Project Gutenberg before you leave, you don’t need to take a book with you on the plane. In your checked luggage, you also need to pack whatever is necessary for wheelchair maintenance - I pack a small toolkit, a bicycle pump with an attached pressure gauge, and an extra tube. If you have a flat in a strange city, a bicycle shop is probably easier to find than a wheelchair repair shop, and it costs less, too.

Security check

Wheelchair users are checked by hand, but whatever you’re carrying still has to go on the conveyer belt. I ask the security officer who takes my bag to wait for it and bring it back, since it has my laptop and my wallet in it. Allow a little extra time for that and for the fact that security may have to track down a male/female officer to do the body check. (There’s something surreal about having a woman approach you and say very sweetly, “Madam, may I pat you down?”) In the post-911 travel environment, the hand check is taken very seriously.

At the gate

Although you probably will have gotten your boarding pass from a kiosk, you should check in again at the gate. This is where you ask for a gate check tag for your equipment, and for an aisle chair if you need one. An aisle chair is a (very) narrow chair that bears an unfortunately resemblance to a handtruck. If you cannot walk at all, the aisle chair is used to convey you from the door of the plane to your seat.

In the last several years it’s been my experience that either the airline does not preboard at all, or that when the preboarding announcement is made, over half the people waiting stampede to the door. I have had several fairly embarrassing experiences boarding in the middle of a crowd of people all of whom were waiting very impatiently for me to struggle out of my wheelchair and down the aisle of the plane. If you have asked for an aisle chair, preboarding is not generally a problem.

The two reasons for preboarding are first, to get enough space for your too-big carryon (which as a wheelchair traveler I have checked), and second, to get a manual folding wheelchair stowed in the cabin (see Wheelchair Stowage). Occasionally the airline will preboard me privately (i.e., without making a public preboarding announcement). I station myself near where the gate agents will see me when they think about starting to board, and this sometimes helps. If it’s important for you to get your chair stowed in the cabin, you need to be persistent. In general I’ve found that even if you get to the gate very early, the gate agents tend to forget about you in the boarding rush, so you have to keep reminding them that you’re there.

More about the aisle chair: you will be able to use your own chair down the jetway to the door of the plane, where you will be met by (hopefully) two workers with the aisle chair. You’ll need to instruct them on how to help you transfer to the aisle chair. You are strapped into the aisle chair with one belt around your legs, and two diagonal belts from shoulder to hip. Remember to take your wheelchair cushion, transfer board and any other loose items with you; they are not likely to stay with the chair in the baggage hold. Keep your elbows/arms tucked in tightly as you are pushed down the aisle to your seat. If you’ve gotten a seat in a row with a removable armrest, you’ll be able to transfer directly from the aisle chair; otherwise you may need to instruct your helpers in lifting you over the armrest or doing a standing pivot transfer.

Wheelchair Stowage

Where other business travelers worry about losing luggage, I worry about baggage handlers breaking my wheelchair. There are two options for a manual folding wheelchair: in the cabin, or in the baggage compartment.

Cabin Stowage

Every wheelchair traveler should know about the Air Carrier Access Act. The ACAA is the airline equivalent of the Americans with Disabilities Act (like churches and private clubs, airlines are not covered by the ADA). The Air Carrier Access Act says the airline must stow one manual folding wheelchair in the cabin if the passenger preboards. I carry a copy of the act with me (I’ve never actually had to pull it out, though!), and quote it to the flight crew if they object. Objections I’ve encountered include “We don’t have room” (my chair folds very small), “This closet has a weight limit” (my chair weighs 18 pounds), “We already have an aisle chair” (the ACAA specifies the passenger’s wheelchair). Many flight attendants have never heard of the ACAA and so I try to educate them as painlessly as possible. I manage to get the chair stowed in the cabin about 90% of the time. Note that you’re supposed to preboard to get this perk — I’ve had some success asking a gate agent to talk to the head flight attendant ahead of time.

Baggage Compartment Stowage

If the chair is going into the baggage compartment, label every piece - this means chair, footrests, wheels, everything. I use business cards taped around a tube or handrim. Because I have a fairly unusual rigid folding chair, I worry that an aggressive baggage handler, used to chairs that fold sideways, will manage to do something interesting to it. My chair comes apart by removing the wheels, which attach with a long bolt. I remove the bolts completely and put them in my purse, and let the airline take the chair and the two wheels. Without the bolts, the chair cannot be reassembled. I have a tag on the chair warning them not to reassemble it. This way I get to put it back together again on the other end. When I have a connecting flight, I ask for the chair to be brought to me between flights rather than trusting that it will get to my final destination. Check the chair for damage before you leave the jetway - if anything has happened it’s best to try and get it resolved immediately. If you don’t get satisfaction, ask to speak to the airline’s Conflict Resolution Officer.

The Destination

Rental Car

I drive a car with hand controls, offered by the major car rental agencies. I also request a two-door car — because the doors are bigger it’s easier to get the wheelchair in — that’s not too low. I follow much the same routine as with airplane seat assignments — I let the travel agent make the initial reservation, then call the rental agency myself and negotiate the car. I bring my handicapped parking placard with me on trips to use in the rental car — it should be valid in any state in the US, and in many European countries.

Picking up and dropping off the car

Hertz and Avis both provide what they call curbside service — someone will bring the rental car to the terminal when you arrive. When I drop off the car I ask to be driven in the car to the terminal, and this request has always been cheerfully granted. Allow some extra time for this.

Hotel Considerations

I call the hotel and ask for an ADA compliant room, but you can’t stop there. I ask about bathrooms, carpets, doors, restaurant, bathrooms, and transportation options.

Parking

Frequently I get to a hotel and the handicapped parking isn’t anywhere near the lobby. I have parked in the drive, checked in, and then handed the bellman the keys and asked him to get the luggage and park the car. This is another example of asking for what you need.

Moving furniture

I’ve found that I usually need to move some furniture in hotel rooms in order to have space for the wheelchair, and to get to the electrical and phone outlets. If necessary, I call the desk and ask for someone to help move the furniture. The first night, I leave a tip for the chambermaid in an envelope that says “Please don’t move the furniture back”. Sometimes it works. If I have to move the furniture two days in a row, I call the manager, and politely explain the situation. Sometimes that works.

Filling out the comment card

I’m very big on communication, because hotel and other travel service workers frequently are unaware of a problem until someone (guess who?) educates them. I fill out a comment card at hotels when I leave. I try to say at least one good thing before commenting on problems. If I have gotten particularly good service, I write a letter to the manager after my trip and do my best to name the employee(s) involved. At the Regal University Hotel in Durham, North Carolina, a hotel concierge had a prescription filled for me in the middle of the night. At the Fairmont Hotel in San Jose, California, a hotel security employee went to a downtown drugstore and rented a wheelchair for me when mine broke, and the hotel would not allow me to reimburse them for the rental cost.
On trips I encounter two kinds of people: those who have apparently never dealt with a wheelchair user, and those who have and think they know it all. Keep in mind that you are the expert on your needs, and don’t let people push you around (literally or figuratively). I needed to keep this in mind on a recent trip to San Francisco; San Francisco airport has shuttle service to the rental car agencies quite a distance away from the terminal. The dispatcher insisted on calling for a special handicapped accessible van (extra wait about 20 minutes). When this van arrived, it turned out that the ramp into the van was about 1/2 inch narrower than my wheelchair. I had to be very firm that we weren’t going to try to get the wheelchair into the van that way — close only counts in horseshoes! We wound up doing what I do in my own car — I transferred to the front passenger seat, folded up my chair, and the driver loaded it in the back.

Wheelchair using business travelers are still not very common, and so we have to approach the situation with humor, patience, and a willingness to educate. Perhaps I have been lucky, but while I have frequently encountered ignorance, I have rarely seen outright abuse from travel industry workers. Most people will try to help if they know what you need, and the only person who’s going to tell them is you!