Traveling with friends can be an exciting adventure, but sometimes, differing expectations and perspectives can cause tension.
That’s what happened when one Redditor and their friends planned a trip across New Zealand, including a challenging hike that wasn’t wheelchair accessible.
One of the group members, a passionate advocate for disabled rights, was initially fine with the plan but later insisted on joining the hike, despite the difficult terrain.
When the group tried to explain why the hike wasn’t feasible, the conversation took a sharp turn.
The disagreement between the OP and his friend points to a deeper clash of values rather than just one bad sentence.
On one side we have the friend, an advocate who believes strongly that accessibility is a right and expects environments to match that principle.
On the other side is the OP, who understands that its natural terrain and rugged conditions make transforming a place like the Tongariro Alpine Crossing into a fully wheelchair‑friendly route practically and environmentally challenging.
Research on nature access for people with disabilities shows that landscapes often present incompatible goals of “untouched wilderness” and “full access.”
One study found that participants valued authenticity in green spaces yet still wanted improved access, suggesting that “the naturalness of the space should not be compromised by making it more physically accessible.”
In other words, the ideal of access doesn’t always align neatly with the ideal of nature preserved. That complexity lies at the heart of the OP’s reaction.
“My disability exists not because I use a wheelchair, but because the broader environment isn’t accessible.” – Stella Young.
This highlights that the barrier is often the environment rather than the individual. The friend is pointing to that very framework, arguing that an attraction labelled “tourist access” should consider all users.
The OP’s side, though, is pointing to the environmental, logistical and cultural constraints of altering a volcanic trail.
For the OP, the path forward, in neutral, constructive terms, is to acknowledge both perspectives without assigning blame.
It would help if he expresses something like: “I get that you feel this trail should be built for all users; I also feel the terrain and heritage make major changes very difficult.”
He can then invite discussion: ask what alternative accessible hikes they might choose together, or how the group might design a day so that she feels included and still challenged in her own way.
They might explore options such as scenic viewpoints or easier loops together, rather than all pushing for the extreme route. The key is open dialogue, empathy, and collaborative planning.
Take a look at the comments from fellow users:
These commenters supported OP’s perspective that a cable car through a rugged national park or over an active volcano is simply not feasible.
These users pointed out that while OP’s point about the infeasibility of building a cable car was valid, the delivery left much to be desired.
These commenters criticized OP for dismissing the importance of disability access by saying “it’s your whole ‘thing,’” which they felt was belittling.
These users agreed with OP’s point that not every natural location can or should be made wheelchair accessible.
The OP’s comment came from a place of frustration, but the delivery ended up causing more harm than intended. Even when discussing sensitive topics, it’s important to be mindful of how our words can affect others, especially when they touch on personal values or identities.
Could the OP have approached the situation with more empathy and understanding? How would you have handled this delicate balance between honesty and sensitivity? Share your thoughts below!
