The Mightiest Of Wheelchairs

  There are many benefits to having an Electric Wheelchair over a manual. One: they go really fast, Two: the stationary lock meant not needing to set the brakes every time I stopped, Three: Electric Wheelchairs are strong. One day I was driving my chair too fast in the house (something I was told countless times not to do). I lost control and hit the side of the couch, causing it to slide across the floor. Seeing the awesome strength displayed by my Electric Wheelchair led me to wonder what other heavy objects the mightiest of wheelchairs was capable of moving. After conducting test on all of the largest household appliances: Washer, Dryer, Refrigerator -- My brother and I decided to go in search of other ways to test the strength and durability of the Electric Wheelchair.

"Let's see how much your chair can pull," my brother suggested.

  He borrowed a red wagon from a friend down the street and went to fill it with bricks from a construction area near our neighborhood. He tied the wagon full of bricks to the back of my chair. I turned the speed to the highest setting and slammed the lever forward. Instead of the usual rocketing sensation I felt when taking off at high speed, the chair struggled forth. I could hear the strain in the gears as the weight of the large bricks hindered the immediate progression of the chair.

  It was difficult to get a strong start so I had the brilliant idea of using the downward slope of our driveway to gain momentum. I parked my Electric Wheelchair at the top of the driveway. My brother helped me position the brick laden wagon behind it and tied both ends of the rope securely. I took off down the driveway, the wagon following closely. As I turned onto the street the rope grew tight and the wagon tipped, spilling bricks all over the road. I halted and the wagon jerked upright and slammed into the back of my Electric Wheelchair. I had to duck so the wagon's handle wouldn't clobber me in the back of the head. The impact left prominent scratch marks on the chair's teal painted frame.

"We need to get these bricks out of the road," I said, and maneuvered my chair to the side of the street.

  I got out and untied the wagon from the Electric Wheelchair and took it to my brother to load the bricks in. He pulled the wagon to the end of our driveway.

"It doesn't pull very good," He said. "What's the heaviest thing it can hold?"

"The sticker on the bottom says maximum of 235 pounds," I said. "Do you think those bricks are enough?"

"I'm gonna take these back and get a few bigger ones. They probably weigh 50 or 60 pounds -- these are just too broken."

  After awhile, my brother returned with four large cinder blocks in the wagon. I imagined he must be exhausted dragging the wagon down our street. But as he got closer the only look on his face was one of determination -- the same look he always wore whenever he undertook a project.

  It took a few minutes for my brother to arrange the blocks specifically so they would balance. He had to stand beside the chair, the stack nearly taller than him, hold on to the top of the pile with one hand and navigate the Electric Wheelchair with the other. The test was not very telling, because the blocks kept trying to slip off. The only confirmation was the Electric Wheelchair's ability to move, however slowly, despite the excessive weight.

"Well, I guess it can hold heavier objects than it says, it just moves slower," I concluded.

"For speed the driver has to be your size," my brother replied.

"Okay, so pulling heavy objects is hard, but doable. Carrying heavy people is doable, but you don't get maximum speed from it. We've pushed furniture around. Too bad we can't test pushing something heavier--"

"Like a car?" My brother asked, and my eyes landed on it at the same moment.

  Our neighbor across the street had a black car he was working on. I don't recall what kind of car, so I am going to make it a Chevy Impala. It was parked on the side of the street. He was working on his car when we first started our test, but went in the house sometime after. The hood sat open and the windows were rolled down, which meant that he probably had a view of the car from one of the front windows.

"Should we ask if we can use his car?" I asked.

"Nah," my brother replied. "He's probably busy. We're just gonna try real quick and if it works, you can just push it back from the other end.

  I got directly behind the car. I didn't just want to run into the vehicle and even slightly damage it. I pushed the lever forward. At first nothing happened, but then I felt the car's front tires start to roll and the car moved! My brother stood directly in front of the car a few feet back, to help me stop it.

"Oh my god, I can't believe it worked!" I screamed excitedly.

"Yeah it did, but watch," my brother said. I moved to the side and he pushed the car back into it's original spot.

"How did you do that?" I asked in amazement.

"His car is in neutral. You couldn't get it to move at first, because the blocks in front of the tires were keeping it in place. Here, stay in front of the car and don't let it roll forward so I can put the blocks back." My brother said, and I propped my Electric Wheelchair against the front fender while my brother made sure the wooden blocks were securely in place.

  After we made sure the car wasn't going anywhere, my brother and I left the cinder blocks in the back yard for later and took the wagon back to our neighbors.

"As cool as this chair is, it would be really useless in a lot of survival situations - toting supplies, carrying lots of people, pushing through rough terrain. It would suck to get stuck in the mud -- you'd have to abandon it," my brother pointed out. "I hope you can walk better someday," He said.

"I do too, but at least I can walk some," I said. "This chair does serve it's primary purpose of helping me when I can't walk."

"And when I don't feel like walking," my brother added, grabbing onto the back handle bars.

  I let him hop on the back of my Electric Wheelchair, and drove us back home.