A good way to socially distance is to go where no one else is. It’s been on my list to visit Rock-A-Hoola Waterpark (aka Lake Dolores WP). Work has been insanely busy for both of us but we finally got a semi-open weekend so we crossed it off the proverbial list and I sought the abandoned, once again.

Lake Dolores Water Park was built in the 60s by a man named Bob who envisioned a carnival oasis in the desert. He built Lake Dolores, which he named after his wife, by using Mojave aquifers. The park was officially open to the public in 1962 and had most of its visitors in the 60s and 70s. In many ways the park was the first of its kind but completely unsafe. Visitors dwindled by the late 80s and by 1990 the park closed down and sold off to investors who rebranded it as Rock-a-Hoola Water Park 50s themed, but ultimately failed by 1999 due to a lot of debt and an employee accident that cost them a few millions. In 2002 there was one more effort to resurrect the park but it quickly failed.

Today, the park is a haven for skaters, graffiti artists and abandoned seekers such as myself. We couldn’t stay as long as I wanted because it was unbelievably hot (bad planning on my part. I love the heat, Jason hates it) perhaps, precisely why a water park in the middle of the Mojave desert was destined to fail. All in all, fun little stop and we drove little of Route 66. Reminded me of Salton Lake, man-made lake/resort that attracted millions and slotted to be the next French Riviera with celebrities like the Beach Boys vacationing there, but ultimately became a Cali wasteland due to ecological failure. 

Road trips + traveling has been much of my existence in California. We still do road trips but the last couple years we haven’t been doing as many as we used to. But I feel the freest when I’m exploring and feel fortunate to have seen as much as I have. Through the years Jason and I have road tripped pretty much all of California, except the most northern section near the Oregon border, yet we still find new little pockets to explore. I usually look like a scrub on road trips but was feeling dress-up 😉💄 

Someone once played here... 

I’m drawn to the abandoned; the stories lost in time, the unheard and the silent loneliness sitting in injustice. I always have been. The abandoned consumed my mind as a child. Abandoned places provoke questions; a lost battle ending in scattered relics of what could have been. It’s a place for imagination, a game of fill-in-the-blank. It’s about feelings of regret, nostalgia and the memories left behind. 

When we arrived at Rock-A-Hoola Water Park I realized it was surrounded by a fence so we made it accessible. After all, fences are mere suggestions 😉 If you’re not in a wheelchair, it’s pretty easy to step over the boulders but we had to trek through some bushes to find weak semi-open sections of the fence and we dipped under. There wasn’t as much remaining of the water park as I thought there would be, but still a neat little stop.

These road-trips are usually more about the journey than the destination. The mode of exploring and searching is what does it for me. Jason and I also have our best conversations on drives. We discuss everything from socio-political, art, history, human behavior, love and what it means...we listen to cheesy music or podcasts and we’re forced to be present in each other’s space. I’m usually writing notes on drives, so most of what I’m sharing are my in-the-moment thoughts...I just can’t stop thinking...

Jason is my physical means to exploration and I’m eternally grateful that he is open to all my exploratory ways, which is largely a rebellious response to this disease. If I couldn’t be myself, in all my searching and seeking ways, I would feel more limited or stifled than having the disability itself. We view disability through the lens of the physical, but so many of us unnecessarily disable ourselves. I’m NOT disabled in so many ways….I’m more able than disabled.

To explore is to be free. I do my best to not think about the physical loss happening or what lies ahead; the loss I’ll feel next week, month, year...but it’s not always easy. It never really goes away. It’s in every moment, existing in the back of my mind. How could it not? When you lose someone you truly love, do you ever truly forget them? The pain dulls in time but you never do. 

Every year I tell myself, “If I could stop the progression right here, I would be happy.” But, like so many things I have loved, but no longer can do, like traveling alone, cooking, driving, I know there’s so much more loss to come. Everything I love disappears. But I know I’m extremely adaptive and when this time comes, when it becomes too hard and my exploring days are over, I’m sure I’ll find replacements for these lost but not forgotten loves. I’ll probably become a more insatiable reader and writing will become less of a hobby. You don’t have to travel or road trip to investigate. You can explore ideas, people, stories and books. 

Humans are adaptable creatures and our potential to overcome expansive. In the end it’s up to us to bend to life and not expect it to bend to us. So I’m bending...as much as I can. Jason says I’m fortunate to be a curious person with so many interests, and that I could have easily chosen many different kinds of careers. I find value and intrigue in everything. I recommend the same for you.

My disability can be a struggle and at times it’s normal for me to experience grief and sadness over this constant progression of my disease and body. This is human and a process I don’t shy from being honest about. No one is 100% ok all the time. BUT I’m also not tragic or sad and my disability doesn’t stop me from living an adventurous, happy, successful and curious life as I’ve done and seen more than most. I do not let my disability stop me and I’ll continue exploring until it’s no longer humanly possible. Our real struggle is lack of accessibility and an ignorant society. So if you have a disability, don’t assume your life is over and that you have nothing to contribute. If you’re not disabled, don’t assume our lives are tragedies and riddled with sadness.

July is Disability Pride Month! “Disability Pride is celebration of disabled people and their lives. It seeks to end stigma and discrimination, advance accessibility, and weed out structural and societal ableism. Nearly 50% of Americans live with at least 1 chronic or incurable condition or disability. That’s 133 million Americans...”

I’m most frequently on my Instagram so if you want to see more of my wheelchair travels, new art and mini-memoirs, follow me on Instagram @kamredlawsk