Bethany Handley: I soon found myself padlocked out of the countryside

The author, poet and disability activist on the barriers keeping millions out of nature and the urgent need to redesign access for all.

My brother and I were blessed to grow up roaming the mountains, forests and beaches of rural south Wales. We’d emerge from the woods by our home barely discernible from one another, covered in mud from head to toe after long days of playing in the stream and building dens. I belonged to this place. I never had to question my right to access it. But I had no idea that this treasured freedom could be revoked. 

In my early twenties, I was diagnosed with chronic illnesses that rapidly progressed. One moment, I was sat beside my family on the summit of Cadair Idris in north Wales; hours later, I was lying unconscious on the kitchen floor. From then on, I couldn’t stand or walk for more than a few minutes and became a wheelchair user. Two years later, my legs became purely decorative. I’m now a full-time wheelchair user.

I soon found myself padlocked out of the countryside. Unable to return to my own home due to steep steps leading to the front door, I moved in with my parents. Their home became an island surrounded by locked gates, barriers and rickety stiles. Every public footpath, every field shut me out. I quickly learnt it wasn’t the terrain that was hostile to my newly wheelchair-enabled body; it wasn’t grass, sand or mud preventing me from leaving behind my proud tyre marks, but man-made barriers we’d introduced. Barriers designed to stop vehicles; barriers designed to prevent antisocial behaviour. 

Within one mile of my parents’ home, there were at least seven stiles denying me access. In 2025, the Ramblers reported that the Welsh and English path network contains more than 140,000 stiles – a stile a mile on average. That’s 140,000 places where the 25% of the population who find stiles a barrier to access are unnecessarily shut out from the path network. Gates are locked, giving way only to those who can clamber over or squeeze past. In other places, poorly maintained paths with overgrown brambles or fallen branches are hostile to many disabled bodies. The message is clear: we are gatekeeping who can access our countryside.  

There are other barriers, too. Again and again, strangers in rural spaces greet me with amazement and intrusive questions, puzzled by my presence in the countryside. It is hard to feel the same sense of belonging I was raised with when nobody expects me to share the path with them. 

The presence of more people deters antisocial behaviour and protects the whole ecosystem

However, people with mobility impairments like me are not the only ones excluded from our path network. There are 32,000 of these illegally blocked paths across England and Wales, and 50% of paths in Wales are either blocked, not sign posted, or both. From discussions with local councils, farmers and landowners, one thing becomes obvious. When it’s not budgets that prevents the protection of our precious public rights of way, it’s fear. Some landowners are reluctant to open up green and blue spaces for all because they fear damage to land, livestock and ecosystems. Mistrust of the public is creating a two-tier access system: the trusted ‘public’ who are allowed in, and those of us who are designed out. Yet the more accessible and inclusive a space is, the more people will use that space. The presence of more people deters antisocial behaviour and protects the whole ecosystem. We are good for nature. 

When we believe that everyone has the right and ability to access our blue and green spaces, regardless of our lived experience or the way we move, we ensure they are protected for all. And since we have created many of the barriers that keep people from accessing nature, we can also remove them! The least restrictive access is the aim. A self-closing gate is more accessible than a gate, which is more accessible than a kissing gate, which is more accessible than a stile. Access is a right, but it is also economically, socially and ecologically essential. Nature needs us.  

41 of the 195 parties to the Paris Agreement mentioned Disabled people in their national climate action plans

Being in green and blue spaces brings £2 billion of health and wellbeing benefits every year, 

but it also broadens who participates in conservation. Without access, engagement is limited to the few. Diversity of participation leads to stronger, more representative decision-making about how environments are protected and used. Analysis in 2025, for example, found only 41 of the 195 parties to the Paris Agreement mentioned Disabled people in their national climate action plans. The UK did not recognise Disabled people in their pledge. This is despite Disabled people being arguably more affected by climate change than any other community, due to pre-existing health conditions. We are also more likely to be living in poverty, without the resources to be resilient to environmental stress. How would the Agreement have looked if the decision makers had been more representative?

Shifting our focus to the most marginalised people and species ensures we consider equality for all. Rather than viewing both people and the environment as profitable money-making resources, we adopt symbiotic relationships, celebrating our interdependence. As Walt Whitman wrote, “I dream in my dream all the dreams of the other dreamers, And I become the other dreamers.” My path is your path, too.  

Whether I need to be carried to where my wheels or bum shuffling cannot take me, or I’m seeking shade under a weeping willow, or I’m offering a listening ear to my loved ones, I’ve come to celebrate interdependence. Now when I am on a mountain ridge, swimming in a river, or have found a stretch of compacted sand that lets me wheel across it, I recognise the landscape, my family and my friends that have made it possible for me to be there. I am no longer a lone wanderer seeking solitude. 

My Body is a Meadow: Finding Freedom in the Outdoors is out now with Headline and is available to order from any UK bookshop.