Extreme Adventure for Everybody: How Moab Is Redefining the Outdoors for Disabled Travelers

Carson Jelinek

By adapting rope swings, rock climbs, 4x4 tours and e-bike trails, Moab demonstrates that extreme adventure can be inclusive of disabled travelers, young children and all visitors.

Elevate Outdoors Tour photo. Courtesy of Faith Dickey.

In the United States, millions of individuals with disabilities enjoy traveling, with over 25 million taking trips in recent years and contributing more than $50 billion annually to the travel economy. However, participation across abilities remains uneven. Research indicates that seven out of 10 individuals with disabilities reduce their travel due to accessibility challenges, and millions rarely leave home. Persistent barriers in transportation, lodging and infrastructure result in a majority of families with disabled members avoiding certain trips entirely. These obstacles are further intensified in adventure travel, where rugged landscapes and limited infrastructure frequently exclude those lacking conventional mobility.

Man riding electric wheelchair. Mikhail Nilov. Pexels.

 Moab, Utah, is one city advancing accessibility through policy initiatives. Starting March 1, the region will officially permit class 1 e-bikes on more than 200 miles of singletrack, including well-known routes such as Amasa Back and Klondike Bluffs. This decision positions Moab among the first major U.S. destinations to allow pedal-assist riders on its trails. Following an environmental assessment by the Bureau of Land Management, this policy represents a significant development in the cycling community. It not only serves experienced riders but also increases access to technical terrain for older visitors, individuals recovering from injuries and some disabled riders who depend on pedal assist to reach trails that would otherwise be inaccessible.

Electric bike in desert. Iztok Franko. Pixabay.

If you're looking for a thrilling off-road adventure that takes you to breathtaking sights across Moab, you can book with Mike Ballard and his company, Big Iron Tour Co. This off-road adventure company is veteran-owned and operated, and they recently installed wheelchair lifts on their 4x4 off-road vehicles so everyone can have fun. The vehicles range from 16-seat off-roaders, called “Man-O-War” and “Dreadnouight” to new-era Jeep Gladiators. Big Iron offers three tour packages: a two-hour tour, a four-hour tour and the most popular, the Sunset Tour. With the Sunset Tour, you scale the red rocks of the Moab and go on trails with several advanced obstacles, ending at a high vantage point to soak in the beautiful sunset. 

Desert road in Moab. J. Pexels.

The Moab Swingers tour offers the longest rope swing in the United States, spanning 500 feet. The attraction has appealed to families and younger visitors, as it is guided by experts, allowing activities previously limited to extreme athletes to be accessible to a wider demographic. The tour is led by cofounders Andy Lewis and Jimmy Peterson, lifelong friends and seasoned extreme-sports professionals. It includes an off-road excursion behind the prominent Moab rock formations, followed by a brief nature hike to the swing, culminating in an unforgettable experience as participants jump from the summit.

Sunset in Moab. Ken Cheung. Unsplash.

Red River Adventures, another tour company located in Moab, is known for its guided rafting, climbing, canyoneering and backcountry trips throughout Utah. To make experiences more accessible for people with disabilities, its guides have adapted rafting launches for wheelchair users and teamed up with groups that support blind, visually impaired and deaf participants. These adaptations demonstrate the Moab outdoor industry’s commitment to making high-risk recreation more accessible while preserving the core experience. Although not every canyon or climb can be changed, the company’s efforts are part of a larger trend in Moab of extreme adventure becoming more inclusive to a wider range of visitors.

Rafting in Utah. Liz Hoffmaster. Pixabay.

Elevate Outdoors, started by professional highliner and guide Faith Dickey, is another company helping make Moab’s outdoor scene more inclusive. The company is known for advanced instruction in slacklining, climbing and canyoneering. Elevate Outdoors focuses on accessibility by offering personalized guiding and adjusting the pace of activities to each person’s needs. Instead of one-size-fits-all trips, they work closely with participants to customize routes, change technical systems and help people build confidence step by step. For disabled travelers or those recovering from injuries, this kind of attention can make challenging terrain feel possible. By combining strong safety standards with a focus on empowerment and helping people manage fear, Elevate Outdoors proves that even Moab’s toughest adventures can be made accessible with the right approach.

TRAVELING THERE:

  • Elevate Outdoors is a locally owned guiding service specializing in rock climbing, canyoneering and highlining, led by experienced outdoor professionals who focus on skill-building and personalized trips. Their team emphasizes inclusivity and works closely with clients to adapt experiences to different ability levels.

  • Big Iron Tours is a veteran-owned company offering guided off-road tours through Moab’s red rock landscapes. It offers knowledgeable local guides who share both the terrain and history of the area, and tours range from short scenic rides to more immersive backcountry experiences.

  • Red River Adventures is one of Moab’s more established outfitters, offering rafting, rock climbing and canyoneering trips guided by seasoned professionals with deep knowledge of the region. Their guides are a central part of the experience, focusing on safety while creating a more personal, small-group environment.

  • Moab Swingers is a niche adventure outfitter offering guided rope-swinging excursions, typically operated by a small team that facilitates group-friendly experiences in a more unconventional outdoor setting. The experience is less about technical skill and more about shared thrill and group energy.

The Bureau of Land Management Moab Field Office is staffed by land managers and public servants who oversee recreation in the area, providing essential guidance on trail access, e-bike use and responsible travel across Moab’s public lands.


Carson Jelinek

Carson is a 22-year-old writer and filmmaker studying film and media productions at Arizona State University. His work explores travel, culture, and the people behind the places, with a focus on stories that encourage curiosity and global understanding.

Observe “Re-wilded” Asian Elephants in their Natural Habitat in Thailand

Salome Liptak

The Mahouts Elephant Foundation offers a unique opportunity for sustainable tourism while also contributing to Asian elephant conservation and Indigenous livelihoods.

Asian elephant in cloud forest. Salome Liptak.

Deep in Thailand’s mountainous Western Forest Complex, a group of travelers observes Asian elephants as they sleep, forage and socialize in the lush cloud forest that is their natural home. Between the visitors and elephants stand the mahouts, or caretakers, who trek out to check on the animals anywhere from once a week to once a day, depending on their individual needs. The mahouts also act as expert guides for the travelers, tracking the elephants’ courses by the plants they crush in their wake and maintaining the safety of both the humans and animals present. Speaking in their Indigenous Karen language to translators, they can tell where the elephants will want to pass, instructing the visitors on where to move next.

This unique experience has been made possible by the Mahouts Elephant Foundation, a non-profit focusing on Asian elephant conservation and sustainable tourism, founded by Sarah Blaine and her family. Offering different trips with outdoor adventure, conservation education and volunteer focuses, the foundation prioritizes cultural immersion in the Karen community through host families sharing language, food and Indigenous craftsmanship. As a sustainable tourism organization, they utilize a multi-faceted and multi-disciplinary approach to fill the gap in elephant conservation efforts in Thailand.

Elephants have made up a large portion of Thailand’s tourism sector since 1989, when the government imposed a logging ban that left thousands of elephants and their mahouts unemployed. Taking care of an elephant is expensive, and mahouts and their families, who were suddenly destabilized by the economic crisis, were often unable to find new livelihoods that provided enough for them to continue caring for the animals. The majority of these mahouts belong to ethnic minorities, including refugees from Myanmar, and they were therefore especially economically vulnerable. Mahouts consider their elephants as members of their family, which makes the prospect of needing to sell one inconceivable. Despite this, many were forced to lease their elephants into the tourism industry, creating ethical concerns for the well-being of the animals and caretakers alike. The subsequent move to larger cities left mahouts separated from family members as they worked in unfamiliar and dangerous conditions.

Tourist camp practices range from the seemingly benign acts of elephant feeding and bathing to the more obviously unnatural training of elephants to paint, walk on their two hind legs and carry people. While these practices are on a spectrum of severity, all of them require a form of behavioral subjugation, wherein an elephant is trained to do what it would not do naturally. At its most violent, this process is referred to as “crushing” an elephant and involves separating young calves from their families, chaining them in small cells and systematically prodding and hitting them with sharp tools until they follow commands. Elephants are large, powerful animals that can be dangerous to humans, especially in these abusive conditions.

The mahouts, as the legal owners of the elephants, are essentially indentured in the tourist camps. They endure immense levels of stress from the responsibility of keeping the elephants from revolting and hurting tourists. Poverty, the separation from family and the trauma of facilitating or witnessing the crush have contributed to the mental health struggles of mahouts working in tourist camps. These ethical issues have called for reforms in the industry and caused a surge of elephant sanctuaries to open in Thailand, with various approaches and visions of what conservation looks like. Still, today, wild elephants are greatly outnumbered by captive ones, 75% of which are being used in the tourism entertainment industry in some form. 

In the foundation’s own words, their mission to combine conservation and community collaboration “cuts off the supply of elephants to the tourism industry, stops the demand of tourists by offering ethical alternatives, brings a sustainable source of income to impoverished communities, and provides science-based evidence showing good elephant welfare.” Their model is unique in its integration of the humanitarian issues of the tourism industry with strict policies on ethical interactions with the elephants.

Elephants brought onto their projects are referred to as “re-wilded,” meaning that while the organization has legal and financial ownership, the animals continue to be looked after by their mahouts and live in the forest as they would naturally. There is no immediate contact between visitors and elephants, including feeding or bathing, with visitors always kept at a distance. The foundation’s conservation and behavioral research contributions are also unique, stemming from research director Liv Baker’s approach, which focuses on individual animal well-being beyond overall population statistics. This informs their trip policies, prohibiting behaviors that many other elephant sanctuaries in Thailand allow and questioning the right of human visitors to interact with the animals.

By fully collaborating with the Indigenous community, Mahouts Elephant Foundation has created a unique environment where conservation research exists alongside an ethical tourism experience. While guests are welcomed and thoughtfully cared for, they must remain conscientious of their role as visitors, staying mindful of the locals, elephants and landscape without thinking of themselves as an audience to be entertained. 

GET INVOLVED:

Mahouts Elephant Foundation lets students, volunteers and adventurers hike through the cloud forest in Northern Thailand to observe re-wilded elephants in their natural habitat. For those looking to support the Karen people’s work to foster peace and security in their communities, visit the Karen Organization of Minnesota or check out the Karen cultural crafts for sale at Borderline Collective. Those interested in digging further into animal ethics and wellbeing can visit PAN Works for their extensive work with Asian elephants, as well as other members of the more-than-human community.


Salome Liptak

Salomé is a student at Sarah Lawrence College studying literature and writing. She is passionate about storytelling (both true and fictional) and its power to reflect the world as it is, or imagine what could be.

Iran at War: A Day in Tehran

Carol Khorramchahi

For civilians in Tehran, war isn’t a headline; it’s the sound of strikes at night, the scramble for safety and the fear of what comes next.

War in Tehran. Muhammad Ali Burno. CC BY 4.0.

For people in Tehran, war is not experienced through maps or military briefings. Instead, it’s felt in nights that don’t feel safe to sleep through, in the sudden rush to a hallway or bathroom when blasts shake the building, in the moment the lights flicker, and you don’t know if it’s a blackout or something worse.

In recent days, the scale of loss has been staggering. Iran’s U.N. ambassador said at least 1,332 Iranian civilians have been killed so far in the conflict, with thousands more injured. And while numbers can’t capture fear, they do show what Tehran residents already know: This is not a distant front line. This is a war reaching into neighborhoods, hospitals, schools and daily routines.

Iran’s Red Crescent reported that about 20,000 civilian buildings have been affected, along with over 70 healthcare facilities. In Tehran, that’s not just damage on paper; it’s what determines whether families can return home, whether clinics can operate and whether ambulances can move quickly when streets are congested or unsafe.

Some of the clearest snapshots of war in Tehran come from the voices of residents themselves. In one report, several Tehran residents described bright flashes turning night “into day,” and one woman told Al Jazeera that “the ground and the windows and our hearts were shaking,” adding that her family sheltered in the bathroom and asked not to be named for security reasons.

Hospitals are still running, but they are under strain. Tehran’s Gandhi Hospital was damaged after strikes hit nearby, and officials said medical facilities and schools had been impacted in multiple places. When healthcare sites are hit or even shaken by nearby blasts, the ripple effects are immediate: Patients get moved, surgeries are delayed and staff are forced to work in uncertainty.

Schools, too, have become part of the story. Reports described strikes that hit schools near Tehran and a wider pattern of attacks affecting education sites. Many parents now face a question that shouldn’t exist: Do you send your child to class when the situation can change overnight?

Even communication, something people rely on to find family, confirm safety and understand what’s happening, has become unreliable. NetBlocks has posted repeated social media updates showing Iran’s wartime internet blackout reaching extreme levels, with connectivity around 1% of ordinary levels during parts of the shutdown. When the internet collapses, it not only silences communities but also cuts off payment systems, disrupts work and makes it harder for people inside and outside Iran to reach each other.

As the threat grows, displacement has become another measure of fear. A U.N. estimate said 3.2 million Iranians have been displaced since the war began, alongside wrenching decisions families face, like whether to flee, where to go and whether leaving might mean not being able to return.

Underneath all of it is a question Iranians are likely arguing about quietly, even when they can’t say it publicly: What comes after this? Some will hope war brings political change. Others will fear that it brings only deeper repression and instability. Some will rally around the state. Others will blame it. Those divisions are visible in glimpses, like demonstrations framed as “defiance and resilience,” even as fear and exhaustion spread.

What’s certain is that for Tehran, war is no longer something “out there.” It is an atmosphere, felt in the noise overhead, the tension in ordinary errands, the uncertainty of school and hospital access and the desperate need to stay connected to the people you love.

GET INVOLVED:
Follow humanitarian updates through ReliefWeb and civilian protection statements from the International Committee of the Red Cross. Track internet shutdown reporting via NetBlocks and digital rights advocacy through Access Now. For human rights documentation, see the U.N. Human Rights Office and Amnesty International.


Carol Khorramchahi

Carol Khorramchahi is a student at Boston University, where she studies English and Psychology and minors in Journalism. She enjoys writing and reporting on stories that bring together culture, identity, and community, and has experience in both newsroom reporting and digital media. She is especially interested in thoughtful storytelling with a global lens.