In 2018, an Australian, 29-year-old Scott Doolan, became the first person in a wheelchair to reach the base camp of Mount Everest. Doolan had been in a wheelchair for 10 years, following an accident that left him with a spinal cord injury, or SCI.
When he first suffered his SCI, and knew he wouldn’t walk again, Doolan was deeply depressed. Self-doubt, he says later, was a major enemy. Then he got interested in athletics. Part of his body was not working, but the rest was fine. The more he trained to strengthen his body from his waist up, the more his confidence grew. “I always thought back to my accident and the hard times to battle the self-doubt, and [that] gave me reassurance that I would be OK,” he says.
To face Everest, Doolan trained his body for the trek. He wore a mask to constrict his breathing to imitate the conditions of high altitude. In Nepal, when the terrain was too rocky for his wheelchair, his trainer held Doolan’s legs off the ground while Doolan walked on his hands for over 60 kilometers. They called it wheelbarrowing. From there, along with a team of supporters, Doolan pulled and climbed to the Everest base camp, at 17,000 feet.
Everest was the culmination of his training and the change in attitude. “What better way to challenge myself and influence others to rise above doubt than [to reach] the biggest mountain in the world?” he says.
To influence others is a major component in what drives the adaptive athlete: what athletes achieve for themselves, they also achieve for their community. The adaptive athlete represents the millions in wheelchairs who can be cheered and perhaps inspired to follow the athlete’s lead, to find the able in disabled.
Not as dramatic as Everest but extremely challenging are the six marathons, in six days, in six New England states — and in a variety of homemade wheelchairs — which Erik Kondo completed this past June. A Lexington resident since 2002, with a wife and three children, Kondo has been using a wheelchair since the mid-1980s following a motorcycle accident. The New England Series, from June 10 to June 15, starts in Connecticut and finishes in Maine. Kondo’s times depended upon his wheelchair dealing with terrain: in Connecticut, a smooth bike path, 4:25; in Massachusetts, crushed gravel, 8:54. His goal was to prove the viability of homemade wheelchairs.

Aside from his businesses and family, and competing in athletic events like the marathon, Kondo promotes ideas to improve the lives of his fellow SCI community. Mobility is one key to fulfillment, and not less so for those who need wheels, instead of legs, to get around. Kondo is a self-taught expert on the potential of wheelchairs. He believes that knowledgeable users like himself know which designs work best, and are economical to produce.
Expensive solutions to wheelchair design do little good, he learned, for those less wealthy, or who live in poorer countries. The elite racers in their sleek wheelchairs competing in the Boston Marathon — those chairs cost $50,000 or more. Few Americans can afford this technology, based upon a man-made material. Carbon fiber, in use from walkers to airplane wings, has the strength of steel without the weight.
Kondo doubts the usefulness of carbon fiber for everyday wheelchairs. Aside from its expense, the material is not resilient. A collision with a curb causes carbon fiber to crack; difficult to repair, it likely will be replaced. Simpler materials, even wood, are superior in practical use and do not cost thousands.
For perhaps a dollar a day, Kondo believes that wheelchair users can build or buy wheelchairs equivalent to one costing thousands. Kondo is working with a Pakistani colleague to build wheelchairs out of wood, fabric, and bicycle tires for $50 or $60. The per capita income in Pakistan is under a thousand dollars. The same story can be repeated for those with spinal cord injuries in poorer countries, such as in Africa. Kondo calls his program Open Source Wheelchairs. On his website, his designs are freely available for others to emulate.
Kondo and his fellow SCI innovators are developing wheelchair designs to handle rough conditions, such as snow and ice, or rocky roads and gravel. Some designs allow wheelchair users to join skateboarders and skiers. The Mini-WCSB, or mini-wheelchair skateboard, lets wheelchair users attach to a board and skate. The same is true of add-ons to wheelchairs for skiing and sledding. Nearly every human activity that legs can do, so can the wheels of the wheelchair — martial arts, mountain climbing, dancing, basketball.
In the United States, an estimated 3.3 million use wheelchairs, with numbers increasing every year, especially after age 65. Even if they are not interested in climbing to the base of Everest or competing in marathons, they can follow Erik Kondo’s open-source work on how to increase their freedom and mobility.

Great story! I think it’s almost 40 years since I first wrote about Ralf Hotchkiss, whose inventiveness with wheelchairs was similar to Kondo’s. Rendered paraplegic while a college student, in a motorcycle accident, like Kondo, he began building wheelchairs that could give him the mobility he wanted, including one that if memory serves–could climb the stairs to his girlfriend’s room in her dorm.
Over the years, again like Kondo, he began working with people in developing countries to come up with designs that would work well under local conditions, and that were easily repairable with local materials. For those interested, there’s lots more on Hotchkiss and what he’s currently doing, starting with his Wikipedia page https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ralf_Hotchkiss/.
Looking at Kondo’s chair, it’s different from any I’ve seen before. It’s encouraging to see that there’s apparently still plenty of room for creativity in wheelchair design.