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'You never know how you're going to deal with something until you're dealt the card'

Twenty-five years after his Regeneration Tour, John Ryan continues to live beyond disability

John Ryan will never forget Remembrance Day in 1994—but not for the reason most others wouldn't. 

Ryan and his friend were driving home from Whistler Village that night, when an accident launched Ryan out the side window of his car. He found himself paralyzed from the waist down. His days of running, jumping and biking the conventional way were over. 

He could’ve given up. Another person might have done just that. Instead, Ryan resolved to odyssey from Cape Spear, N.L., back to his hometown on board a three-wheeled handcycle, covering 8,688 kilometres to gather money for research into spinal cord treatments for the disabled. 

Spoiler alert: In 1999, Ryan pulled off his astounding Regeneration Tour with help from loved ones and fellow Canadians. In total, $1.2 million was raised in his name over the course of his four-odd-month mission. The number of people who were somehow impacted along the way might be even higher. 

Ryan built his successful real estate career in the 25 years that followed. He still lives and works in Whistler, and plans to stay for the rest of his life. His two daughters look up to him, as do many others. 

“It is certainly one thing to say you are going to do [the Regeneration Tour], but a whole different story to actually do it,” noted onetime Vancouver Canucks captain Trevor Linden in a press release. “The commitment [John] showed was truly remarkable.”

Added Ryan himself: “Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s been a quarter-century. Shocking that it’s been so long, to be quite honest. The Tour was quite an endeavour, physically and mentally. It was something that I’ll never do again, but very, very glad that we did it back in the day.”

Men in motion

Even before his fateful accident, Ryan knew how to pick his idols: Terry Fox and Rick Hansen.

He witnessed Fox labouring outside of Thunder Bay, Ont., a single day before cancer complications halted that nation-defining run. Hansen showed up next to Ryan’s hospital bed shortly after the car crash. 

“It was quite inspiring,” Ryan remembered. “You’re lying there paralyzed, not really knowing much about anything, and Rick comes in. He looks good, and he’s got a cool wheelchair. It was a bit of a TSN Turning Point for me when he came to visit. [He helped me] to look forward, not back.” 

Hansen, at that time, was approximately seven years removed from his Man in Motion World Tour: a breathtaking 40,000-kilometre journey across 34 countries and four continents in a wheelchair. Inspired by that world-record undertaking, Ryan pondered how he might also give to society. He wanted to improve life for those less fortunate, such as a quadriplegic friend from the GF Strong Rehabilitation Centre who couldn’t brush his own teeth without assistance. 

One night, an idea struck Ryan as he was hand-cycling through Lost Lake Park beneath a canopy of stars. That idea evolved into the Regeneration Tour. 

“I always have said: you never know how you’re going to deal with something until you’re dealt the card,” Ryan commented. “If you told me the day before my car accident that I’d be paralyzed the rest of my life, it probably wouldn’t have been a positive response … but once [the accident happened] my mind instantly went: ‘OK, what can I still do?’ It was how I’m wired without even knowing it at the time. 

“Doctors were so close to improving spinal cord injuries [in the mid-1990s] and I thought: if somebody could just get the use of their hands back, or their fingers, it can be the difference between brushing your own teeth or blowing your own nose to being totally dependent on someone else.” 

Freedom ride

Ryan lacked access to social media or developed internet services to promote his worthwhile quest, but that didn’t stop a group of realtors in St. Johns, N.L. from hearing about it. They united of their own volition to establish a tour kickoff committee, and Ryan found himself at a fundraising luncheon with 300 people mere days after his arrival in the Maritimes. 

“If everybody was from Newfoundland, there’d be peace on Earth because they are just incredible people,” quipped Ryan. 

Sea to Sky folk stepped up to the plate as well. Local volunteers set up an organizing bureau in Whistler as the late Ted Nebbeling reached out to other mayors across Canada for their help. Real estate boards from coast to coast formed the initiative's nervous system, garnering support by way of newspapers, TV channels and radio stations. 

Of course, Ryan couldn’t ask any of these allies to make the trip in his stead, and he got going on May 1, 1999.

Various obstacles arose in sequence, from maritime blizzards and North Ontario’s thunderstorms to 50-km/h prairie headwinds, ill-timed heat waves and unrelenting elevation gain. Ryan spent up to seven weeks hospitalized in Barrie at one point, the mission taking its toll on his body, but he forged on astride his Freedom Ryder handcycle. 

Thousands of Squamolians lined their streets to greet Ryan at the penultimate stop of his tour, followed by nearly 7,000 more in Whistler on Sept. 11, 1999 for the grand finale. He was “totally caught off guard” by the hero’s welcome, and still gets goosebumps thinking about it today. 

'It's incredible, the difference' 

Those living with disabilities still face myriad hurdles today, but sport has continued to be a tremendous vehicle for their cause. The 2024 Paris Paralympics drew a record-breaking 11 million Canadian viewers across CBC platforms, and February’s Invictus Games will be a rallying point for the Sea to Sky adaptive community. Ryan can only marvel at how things have changed for the better. 

“It’s incredible, the difference,” he remarked. “When you have an accident now, there’s a lot of things they can do to minimize the impact of your injury if you get to a hospital quick enough. I credit Rick Hansen and his team because they really have made Canada a leader in accessibility. 

“You go to Whistler or Vancouver in a wheelchair, and it’s amazing that there’s really minimal barriers now … versus going to South America, for example, where it’s still a challenge in a wheelchair. The technology of handcycles and downhill bikes and all of that has grown by leaps and bounds.” 

Ryan admits one still needs a bit of home-court savvy to navigate certain parts of Whistler Village, which was built in the early 1980s. Having said that, he believes it’s a great place for wheelchair-bound individuals to live and visit. The Valley Trail alone is a special amenity, for not every town is blessed with 45-plus kilometres of pavement linking north with south and east to west. 

It’s a good thing that’s true, for the citizens of an active and recreation-focused community accept certain risks in their lifestyle. Any tumble off a bike or down a backcountry ski trail can be life-altering, but groups like the Whistler Adaptive Sports Program (WASP) ensure disability is not the end of adventure. 

Just as important as the physical side of things, however, is the mental and emotional element. 

“Surround yourself with others who have gone through [debilitating injury] and imagine how much you could learn quickly just by their experience,” Ryan said. “If somebody is paralyzed and reaches out to me—which some people do, and I encourage it—that would be [great]. Rick coming to visit me in the hospital really got me not feeling sorry for myself, you know? That would probably be my biggest piece of advice for someone with a new injury: get mentored by somebody who’s gone through it.”