About Christopher Kain
Real Places. Real Experiences. Real Accessibility.
For close to 30 years, I’ve believed that adventure shouldn’t have a definition that excludes people with disabilities.
My name is Christopher Kain, and I’m a traveler, adventurer, author, speaker, accessibility advocate, husband, father, and lifelong explorer. Much of what I’ve learned about accessibility has come not from a classroom, but from pushing a wheelchair down trails, navigating national parks, finding accessible hotels and restaurants, making excursions possible and sometimes saying, “Let's make an attempt?”
For the past 17 years, I’ve shared those experiences through Kellisa’s Path, documenting accessible travel and outdoor adventures with my daughter Kellisa. Today, Kellisa’s Path averages approximately 60,000 unique visitors each month from around the world.
But the story behind Kellisa’s Path started long before the website.
A Family Built Around Adventure
I’ve been married to my wife, Lisa, since 1989. We were high school sweethearts, and together we’ve built a family and a life filled with travel, challenges, adventures and memories.
We are the proud parents of four children: Kellisa, Egypt, and the late Everett and Kirsten.
Kellisa and Egypt have been my adventure partners on countless journeys. Some of our greatest adventures have involved figuring out how to experience places that weren't necessarily designed with accessibility in mind.
Those experiences have taught me that accessibility isn't always about whether something is officially labeled accessible.
Sometimes, accessibility is about creativity.
Sometimes, it's about persistence.
And sometimes, it's about finding a way when the answer initially appears to be no.
50 States — Again and Again
I've visited all 50 states at least three times each.
One journey through all 50 states was with Kellisa and Egypt. Another was with Kellisa. A third came through my travels for work.
Along the way, I've hiked at least two trails in every state.
I completed one round of those trails with Kellisa and Egypt, another with Kellisa while researching and experiencing the adventures that would become my book, Rugged Access for All, and countless additional trails with my daughters and on my own.
I've learned that some of the most memorable accessible adventures aren't necessarily the easiest ones.
They're the ones that require a little imagination.
Rugged Access for All
In 2020, I published Rugged Access for All, a book born from years of exploring outdoor spaces with Kellisa and documenting what it actually takes to experience rugged outdoor destinations when accessibility is part of the equation.
The book reflects something I have experienced repeatedly: accessibility isn't simply a checklist.
A trail can be technically accessible and still be difficult.
A trail can be considered inaccessible and still be possible with the right equipment, preparation, assistance and determination.
My goal has always been to provide honest information about what people can actually expect when they arrive.
Adventures That Changed My Perspective
Some of our most memorable adventures have happened in places where accessibility wasn't straightforward.
At Mammoth Cave National Park, I made sure Kellisa had the opportunity to experience the cave when the elevator serving disabled visitors was repaired and returned to service.
At Zion National Park, I became the first person to receive permission from the chief ranger to take a raft with Kellisa into the Narrows.
And at Crater Lake National Park, I pushed Kellisa down the Cleetwood Cove Trail even though wheeled devices were against the rules at the time.
These aren't stories about breaking rules simply for the sake of breaking them.
They're stories about finding solutions.
They're reminders that accessibility can sometimes require conversation, creativity and a willingness to ask whether there is another way to experience a place.
Mountains, Swamps and Long Days
My adventures haven't been limited to paved paths and scenic overlooks.
I've climbed two 14,000-foot mountains in Colorado: Longs Peak and La Plata Peak.
I've kayaked 33 miles across the Okefenokee Swamp over three days.
I've kayaked through the Everglades several times, as well as taking an adventure by kayak in the Bahamas.
I've visited 27 state high points, including 22 with Kellisa and two with Egypt.
I'm also a three-time finisher of the 26.2-mile Bataan Memorial Death March in New Mexico.
Adventure has always been about more than collecting destinations. It's about seeing what is possible.
America's National Parks and Public Lands
I've visited 42 of America's 63 national parks, along with countless other national forests, monuments, recreation areas, wilderness areas, state parks and public lands.
I've also traveled to and hiked in four Canadian provinces.
Every destination brings a new accessibility lesson.
Sometimes the lesson is that a wheelchair user can go farther than expected.
Sometimes it's discovering an accessible overlook that few people know about.
And sometimes it's acknowledging that something truly isn't accessible — and then finding another way to experience it.
That honesty is important to me.
I don't believe in pretending a destination is accessible when it isn't.
I believe in giving people the information they need to make their own decisions.
17 Years of Kellisa's Path
I've been writing for Kellisa's Path for 17 years.
What began as a way to document our family's adventures has grown into a resource reaching approximately 60,000 unique monthly visitors from around the world.
The website has allowed me to combine two things I love: exploring the world and sharing what I've learned.
Through Kellisa's Path, I've written about accessible trails, national parks, road trips, attractions, outdoor adventures, hotels, restaurants and the practical realities of traveling with a wheelchair.
The goal has never been to simply say, “This place is accessible.”
The goal is to explain what accessible actually looks like.
How steep is the trail?
What is the surface like?
Where can you park?
Can a wheelchair actually get there?
What obstacles should you expect?
What worked for us?
And perhaps most importantly: Is it worth going?
Recognized by the Outdoor Travel Community
My work in travel and outdoor adventure has also connected me with professional organizations and some of the most respected voices in outdoor and travel journalism.
I am a member of the Outdoor Writers Association of America (OWAA) and the North American Travel Journalists Association (NATJA).
One of the most meaningful acknowledgments of our adventures came from Jennifer Pharr Davis, National Geographic Adventurer of the Year and former Appalachian Trail speed-record holder.
Jennifer included a section about me and Kellisa in her book Families on Foot, sharing our story as an example of a family embracing outdoor adventure together.
For me, that recognition is particularly meaningful because it reflects what I've always hoped Kellisa's Path would represent: not simply documenting places, but showing what families can accomplish when they choose adventure together.
Sharing the Story Beyond the Website
Kellisa's Path has taken me far beyond writing behind a computer.
I've presented “Kellisa's Path” at hospitals, church retreats, travel conventions and family support groups across the country.
I've written for Abilities Buzz and have been featured on television and in newspapers.
Fox News has published two feature stories about us.
Southwest Airlines also created a video documenting Kellisa's 18th-birthday day-of-flights adventure, and that video has received more than 2 million views.
I was also featured in Southwest's magazine.
These opportunities have allowed me to share a message that is much bigger than our family:
People with disabilities deserve the opportunity to experience the world.
Why I Do This
I've learned that accessibility is personal.
A website can tell you that a trail is accessible.
A park brochure can call an attraction accessible.
A hotel can advertise an accessible room.
But until someone actually experiences it, you don't always know what those words mean.
That's why I believe in real experiences.
I want people to know what we encountered, what worked, what didn't, what surprised us and what I would do differently next time.
But there is another part of our story that is just as important.
While we rarely see other people in the wilderness using a wheelchair or other mobility device, it is almost as rare for Egypt to see people who look like her.
Egypt has always been comfortable outdoors. She hikes, camps, observes wildlife and explores. The outdoors has never felt like a place she doesn't belong.
Yet since she was little, she has sometimes wondered why she is usually the only one.
We don't specifically write about opening up the outdoors to people who share Egypt's skin tone. That's not the specific focus of Kellisa's Path. But it is an equally important hope of ours that, by seeing Egypt out there — hiking, camping, exploring, watching wildlife and simply enjoying the wild places she loves — other kids and families like her will feel that they belong there too.
Representation matters.
Sometimes people simply need to see someone like themselves doing something before they can imagine themselves doing it.
That is true for wheelchair users.
It is true for people from underrepresented communities.
And it is true for anyone who has ever looked at an adventure and wondered, “Is this place really for people like me?”
Our hope is that the answer becomes increasingly obvious:
Yes. It is.
A Career Built Around Communication and Technical Expertise
My professional career has also shaped the way I approach accessibility and communication.
Since 2005, I've worked for TEC Specialty Products in the marketing and technical departments.
I've presented to architects and spoken at the largest flooring conventions in the country — many times — helping professionals understand technical products, applications and solutions.
Before joining TEC, I spent 17 years in architectural coatings.
That career has given me decades of experience communicating technical information to professionals, translating complicated subjects into practical information and speaking to audiences across the country.
Those skills have naturally carried over into my work in accessible travel.
The Next Chapter
After decades of traveling across the country, exploring America's public lands and documenting accessible adventures with my family, I still have a long list of places I want to see.
There are national parks I haven't visited.
There are trails I haven't explored.
There are high points I haven't reached.
And there are countless people who are still trying to figure out how to travel with a disability — or simply wondering whether they belong in the outdoors.
That's why I'm continuing to write, explore, speak and share.
Because the most important destination isn't always the place on the map.
Sometimes it's the moment when someone realizes:
“Maybe I can do this.”
And that's what I hope Kellisa's Path — and everything I do beyond it — helps people discover.
Real Experiences. Real Places. Real Accessibility.
— Christopher Kain
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