By: McKenna Pace

One rare, brooding May morning, I laced up my hiking boots for an adventure that promised to defy my expectations. I was about to meet Patti Ehle—a remarkable figure from Ogden’s East Bench. Patti isn’t just a dedicated Advisory Board member of the Trails Foundation of Northern Utah; she’s also a blind hiker whose courage and spirit redefine the limits of exploration.

When I arrived at Patti’s home, I was respectfully greeted by her guide dog, Canyon, who was already dressed and ready to go in his harness. Patti found her cane, locked the door, and we were off! As we left the driveway, Patti instructed me to stay a couple steps behind her right side in order to minimize confusion for Canyon, who was still a puppy in training. I was happy to oblige.

Patti has not always been blind. Born and raised in Michigan, Patti moved West in young adulthood and has lived in Ogden since the mid-1980s, where she worked as a journalist at the Standard Examiner. As an avid hiker and explorer, she has always loved the outdoors, and settled on Ogden, in part, for its proximity to miles of unparalleled trails, granting her and her family access to some of the most beautiful landscapes Utah has to offer. Unfortunately, she has not been able to see it in over 20 years.

Patti knew when she moved here that her days of seeing northern Utah trails were numbered. She was born with a disease called retinitis pigmentosa (RP), a rare genetic disease that affects the retina of the eye, which is the structure in the back of the eye that collects light. Working retinas pick up these light signals and send them to the brain, which translates these signals into the images we see. In people with RP, the cells of the retina slowly break down over time, inhibiting the eye’s ability to collect light and leading to blindness. Though every case is different, Patti was diagnosed when she was in her early 20s. It took less than 30 years for her to lose her sight completely.

Luckily, Patti has never let a little blindness interfere with her sense of adventure. With the help of a guide dog, friends, and family, Patti is out enjoying the trails every day. On the day we hiked, we opted for the Lake Street service road to the 22nd Street trailhead and back. As we walked, Canyon knew to stop at intersections, parked cars, and curbs so Patti could assess her surroundings before safely moving forward. We got turned around once while walking to the trailhead (and I must admit, I think it was my fault because I distracted her by asking so many questions), but once we had reoriented ourselves, the rest of the journey was smooth sailing. It was amazing to me the sounds and smells Patti picked up that were simply in the background for me. For example, she could hear the hum of the air conditioner at Saint Joseph’s Catholic High School from a block away. She knew which neighbors were saying “hi” based on their voice, and which house we were passing because of the noise the bird fountain made in the front yard. Once she pointed these things out, of course, I noticed them too, but it was impossible for me not to reflect on how much I took for granted because I relied so heavily on sight.

In addition to spending time with Patti, my biggest goal for this walk was to learn more about how we at TFNU, and the trail community at large, could better support Patti and other trail users with disabilities. I asked her what the one thing she wanted people to know about sharing the trail with her, and she said simply, “to know I’m here, and to look out for me.” She noted that she is often the one to move out of the way for others, but she doesn’t always want to be the one to yield (remember the yield triangle below applies to everyone). She also mentioned many times in which bikers or others moving much quicker than her have cut her off or scared her by coming too close because they weren’t paying attention or had headphones in.

So, trails community, can we make a pact? Can we agree that the trails are for everybody? This includes bodies that are blind, deaf, in wheelchairs, or have some other disability you may or may not perceive. Please yield when it’s your turn to yield, stay aware and alert, and, as always, be nice and say hi!

For more information on how you can support our blind community and their guide dogs, visit: https://www.guidedogs.com/resources/blindness-and-guide-dog-etiquette.