At Banff Sunshine Village resort, skiers whoosh down the runs off Mount Standish, leaving tracks in the new snow that fell overnight in Banff National Park in Alberta. But my teenage son Bennett has stopped at the top of a steep pitch, as the wind-whipped snowflakes swirl around us at 7,000 feet elevation in the Canadian Rockies.
Reading Bennett’s body language, his ski instructor makes a suggestion.
“Let’s do our deep breathing,” says Irene Hutcheon, who works with Rocky Mountain Adaptive (RMA), an organization that teaches people with physical and cognitive disabilities how to ski. After a few calming breaths, Bennett’s shoulders relax. “Now, let’s ski this together,” she says.
Holding hands, they ease down the slope in tandem. When the run flattens out, she lets go. Bennett, who has autism, doesn’t miss a turn.
In addition to using calming techniques, Hutcheon communicates with him by giving choices with her hands: Her right hand might be “ride the chairlift” and her left “take a break.” Bennett, who mostly chooses to be nonverbal, taps what he wants or points where he wants to go. By the end of the lesson, he’s skiing with confidence.
“We like to make the outdoors accessible to everybody,” says Hutcheon, who runs the neurodiverse training for RMA’s staff and volunteers. “We talk to the family. We talk to the participant and gauge how we can best support them on the hill.”
Adapting downhill snow sports so everyone can participate is one of many ways this famous Canadian destination welcomes all travelers. In 2023, Banff’s tourism board, in partnership with the Town of Banff and Parks Canada, unveiled a 10-year vision called Lead Tourism for Good that champions the removal of barriers—including physical, sensory, cognitive, and social/behavioral ones—to ensure an inclusive visitor experience for everyone. It also pledges to reduce waste and emissions for long-term sustainability.
“True sustainability must include social equity, inclusivity, and accessibility, alongside environmental protection,” says Christie Pashby, who oversees the tourism board’s sustainability strategy. “By removing barriers, we’re ensuring Banff’s natural wonders can be experienced by everyone.”
Social sustainability happens when diverse groups feel they belong; they form deeper connections to the land and are more committed to its protection, says Pashby.
In 2022, nearly 10 percent of those who completed a visitor experience survey reported encountering a barrier in Banff. Impediments to park enjoyment ranged from problems with infrastructure, such as stairs or uneven terrain, to sensory overload caused by crowded, high-traffic attractions. A goal of Lead Tourism for Good is to increase the number of businesses offering accessible experiences while reducing all barriers, to bring that percentage down.
In 2022, nearly 10 percent of those who completed a visitor experience survey reported encountering a barrier in Banff.
Photo by ROAM Creative
More than 4 million people visit Banff National Park every year. A majority of them come in summer to hike the area’s jagged peaks and canoe across its glacier-fed lakes. Winter attracts a quarter of the year’s total tourists—folks who brave the cold and snow to ski, snowshoe, or climb up Johnston Canyon wearing ice cleats.
This scenic gorge captivates in winter, when water rushing over the vertical cliff walls freezes into a silent, crystal cathedral of blue-and-white icicles. On our trip, we encounter relatively few hikers along the accessible trail to the lower falls, making it a sensory-friendly spot to soak up Banff’s beauty.
Nolan Ali, a registered guide with tour company Radventures, coaches Bennett on using the cleats for stability on the path’s steeper sections. Ali received adaptive training through the Interpretive Guides Association to learn how to help people of different abilities experience nature in the park.
“It’s about being flexible and finding ways everyone can enjoy a trip,” says Ali. He might choose a different trail, slow the pace, or cut a hike short and opt for wildlife viewing from the van, depending on the participants. “We said Banff would be a preserve for all Canadians, not just able-bodied Canadians. Even if you have to get creative, I think there are ways for people of all abilities to enjoy the outdoors.”
During our time in Banff, we also find respite indoors, in our welcoming hotel, at quiet restaurants, and inside Bennett’s special request: a “no-noise” museum. The Banff Park Museum displays taxidermic animals native to Banff, without any surprises, like piped-in sounds. He also loved our visit to the Cave and Basin National Historic Site, where Parks Canada has created quiet, accessible, crowd-free spaces to unwind in the spot where Banff’s famous hot springs bubble up from beneath Sulphur Mountain.
Local company Scale Naturally is providing neurodiversity training to hotels, the tourism board, and the Banff & Lake Louise Hospitality Association to help staff understand and accommodate neurodivergent guests.
“Our training highlights that one in five people is neurodivergent,” says Scale Naturally cofounder Makaylah Rogers. “When tourism employees understand neurodiversity better, they’re equipped to transform what might be an overwhelming experience into one that’s more welcoming and enjoyable.”
Townwide, Banff has fully accessible public transit. It plans to transition to universal washrooms and redevelop streetscapes to remove curbs, among other initiatives. “Our hope is that Banff and Lake Louise can be a leader in accessible tourism in a decade’s time,” says Pashby. “We are taking significant steps toward a more sustainable future.”
The town encourages visitors to opt for free shuttles to ski resorts or the area’s various sights in order to reduce emissions and traffic congestion. Guided tours also provide travelers with critical environmental education; in Johnston Canyon, for example, we learned how feeding wildlife harms animals and disrupts the park’s fragile ecosystem.
We end our stay on a private snowshoe tour with Discover Banff Tours. Registered guide Emma Baker takes us to a deserted trail and explains the game plan before helping Bennett into snowshoes at the trailhead. She assures us we can snowshoe as much or as little as we like, take breaks if we get tired, and basically choose our own adventure.
We trade off breaking trail through a meadow topped with snow as fluffy as meringue, the only humans in a vast, white, hushed landscape. We collapse onto the downy blanket to make snow angels. Bennett and I take turns sledding down a hill while Baker boils syrup to make maple taffy.
Usually a stoic, silent teen, Bennett finds his voice to ask Baker for more maple taffy. The next time we’re in Banff, I hope we’ll build on these wins. Bennett wants to go to the hot springs, ride the gondola, and hit the slopes again. “I will ski fast,” he says.
