IT’S ALL ACCESS FOR “HALFPIPE HOTROD”

Published in the Dec. 27, 2025 issue.

When Adam and Katrina Otten first brought their son to Access Mammoth, they couldn’t have imagined that he would be dubbed “Halfpipe Hotrod Hudson” by the end of the season.

The Ottens are a family of seven, with five kids ranging in age from 15 to five. Hudson shares the title of youngest sibling with his twin brother, Grayson. Born at the onset of Covid in 2020,

Hudson faced significant medical challenges in his early years, including cerebral palsy. He is non-verbal, legally blind, and unable to ambulate independently.

The diagnosis meant the family often drove hundreds of miles to Loma Linda for specialized care and spent hours in doctor visits and hospitalizations. For a time, they considered moving from their home in Bishop to a more urban area with better access to medical services.

The Sheet covered the Otten family’s struggle to navigate this care gap in its Dec. 21, 2025 issue, where reporter Lauren Miller noted that mom Katrina Otten said the family “started gathering boxes,” convinced a move was their only option.

But in the year since, the Ottens have not only stayed in Bishop, but found hope and community on the ski hill, watching Hudson’s smile glow as he whizzes down the slopes.

This was made possible by the staff at Access Mammoth (renamed from Disabled Sports Eastern Sierra), which Adam began noticing a few years ago.

“I would see these volunteers in orange and blue jackets taking people with disabilities on the slopes and doing different types of ski programs,” he said. “I had no clue who these people were, but as my son is disabled, it got me thinking that maybe when he gets old enough he might be able to participate.”

Participate he did. On day one, staff and volunteers got Hudson into a bi-ski, a device made for individuals who ski in a seated position, with a molded seat mounted atop two specially designed skis. That same day, he was on the chairlift and skiing down the mountain.

“When Hudson felt the cold air on his face and the wind rushing by, the movement of his bi-ski beneath him, he lit up,” Adam said. “it was pure joy, the kind that stays with you.”

Despite his medical and communication challenges, Hudson is fully cognitive. He understands what is going on around him, and he knows exactly what he wants. And what he wants is to ski.

Because he is non-verbal, Adam gauges his son’s mood by facial expression. A big goofy smile? It’s a go. A discouraged frown? Time to slow down.

Skiing always brings the former. And, as Adam quickly learned, Hudson is pretty daring on the mountain. He braved jumps, grinning ear to ear as he caught air. One day, a staff member took him down the mini-halfpipe in his bi-ski. He loved it immediately.

When the lift operator caught wind of the news, he gave him a name that stuck: Halfpipe Hotrod Hudson.

Soon after, the Ottens added flame stickers to his helmet to match the title.

Hudson grew in other ways, too. Before joining Access Mammoth, he was hesitant around new people. Katrina believes this may stem from being a “COVID baby” with limited early social exposure. But on the slopes, he opened up and was comfortable with whoever he was paired with that day.

The experience changed the family’s entire outlook.

“It’s changed our attitude from thinking we were going to have to pack up and move to a bigger city area just to meet his medical needs,” Adam Otten said. “We still have to go out of town to see some specialists, but it’s this organization that really hooked us into staying here.”

Over time, Adam has been learning how to “drive” Hudson’s bi-ski so they can ride together, which is notable because Adam himself is fairly new to skiing.

He first put on skis only a few years ago as a chaperone for his older children, who had Ski P.E. through their school.

“I had no clue about skiing. I was somewhat scared of it. I never wanted to do it because I was afraid I was going to hurt myself,” he said.

Ski PE paid for his lift tickets, and he learned simply by watching the instructors teach the students. Eventually, he became the school’s Ski PE coordinator, and now he’s working to connect that program with Access Mammoth.

“Through Ski PE, I learned of other students with varying degrees of disabilities who had no clue about Access Mammoth,” he said. “So we are now getting those students on board.”

In his view, Access Mammoth is far more than a recreation program.

“It gives families hope, gives kids dignity, confidence, and a chance to experience the world in ways they are too often closed off from,” he said.