At this year’s National Disabled Veterans Winter Sports Clinic in Snowmass, Colorado, it was hard to miss Carlos Lopes.

Wherever veterans gathered—on the slopes, on the ice and on the pavement—there he was pushing himself and encouraging fellow veterans with his energetic personality, New England accent and scally cap.

“The number one thing I keep coming back for, it’s not just the sports,” Lopes said, “it’s them—the men and women we see rolling around, trucking along—they bring me back.”

Lopes was introduced to adaptive sports like skiing four years ago by his occupational therapist at the Brockton VA Medical Center in Massachusetts. He went all in.

“Turns out, I’m still an athlete,” Lopes, a Marine veteran, said. “It was just locked away.”

Lopes was injured while on deployment in Iraq in November 2005 when a fellow Marine fell 30 feet from a ladder onto him. Lopes became paralyzed and sustained a traumatic brain injury and a broken jaw from the incident. After two years at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland, he was medically retired in 2007.

Attending the winter sports clinic for the second time, Lopes said he tries not to let the injury define him or his limitations.

“You can let it take over your life, or you can say, ‘No, that’s just part of my history; it’s not who I am,’” he said.

At this year’s clinic, when the Freetown, Massachusetts, native wasn’t skiing, he was playing sled hockey at the Aspen Recreation Center or riding a handcycle on paved trails in Basalt.

On the bike trail, he led the group and didn’t leave anyone behind, drawing from the lessons he learned in the Marines.

“It meant that much to me that we crossed the finish line together,” Lopes said.

Because of his positive attitude and encouraging spirit, Lopes was named the clinic’s DAV Freedom Award recipient—the participant who best embodies the courage, perseverance and determination the event represents.

“It embodies the spirit of who he is and his character,” said DAV National Commander Coleman Nee.

For Lopes and nearly 350 other participants, the week was about rediscovery—of movement, competition and purpose—through adaptive sports. This has been happening since the clinic started in 1987 at Powderhorn Mountain Resort near Grand Junction, Colorado.

Kim Canova-Romans, a certified therapeutic recreation specialist with the VA North Texas Health Care System in Dallas, was at that first clinic and has volunteered at nearly every clinic since.

She remembers the physical demands of those early clinics. She’d tether herself to the sledlike sit-skis of that era, riding behind snowcats on the way up then guiding participants on the way down.

“So as a ski buddy and ski instructor, your legs were like noodles at the end of the day,” she said. These days, she’s a team lead, responsible for the logistics of moving large groups of veterans from event to event. It’s less physical than being a ski buddy but still hard work.

But Canova-Romans said being involved in any capacity is a privilege for her, especially because she gets to see veterans find freedom through adaptive sports.

“It’s medicine on the mountainside,” she said. “When you come to an opportunity like this and you experience the love, the compassion, the selflessness and the camaraderie that you feel from each other—all together—it makes a potion that’s just healing. It heals people’s mind, body and spirit.”

Vietnam veteran and DAV Past National Commander Gene Murphy was at the first clinic, too. A sports enthusiast before he joined the Army, Murphy was paralyzed by enemy gunfire during a patrol. He said that first clinic experience reignited a spark.

“To me, it’s life-changing,” he said. “You’re in a chair and then, all of a sudden, you’re skiing down a mountain.”

After, Murphy got involved in wheelchair basketball and softball. At almost 78 years old, he’s still active and enjoys pheasant hunting, fishing, and “wheeling around” outdoors and on a treadmill equipped to handle his wheelchair. He said other veterans have similarly rediscovered their passion for sports after illness or injury through adaptive programs like this clinic.

“In athletics, [DAV] is providing an outlet. And for 40 years, we’ve done it,” he said. “We’ve helped thousands of veterans change their lives.”

Local DAV chapters were instrumental in helping the Department of Veterans Affairs host those early clinics, both financially and practically, helping bring in participants like Murphy. DAV became an official co-presenter in 1991.

“The physical and mental benefits of adaptive sports are undeniable,” DAV National Voluntary Service Director John Kleindienst said. “I hear it all the time from veterans, that this clinic has saved their lives. Those stories never get old. In fact, they drive us to do anything and everything we can to keep it going.”

This year, the event was tested by unusual conditions.

The early April weather for Snowmass felt more appropriate for viewing cherry blossoms in Washington, D.C., than for bombing down aspen-lined ski runs high in the Rocky Mountains.

Mud season—that unofficial fifth season in the mountains as snow melts and the ground thaws—arrived early, closing down the region’s ski resorts. Vacationers went home, and most of the seasonal workers fled to Moab, Utah, to camp. Staff, volunteers and participants of the winter sports clinic had the mountain and the few remaining patches of snow to themselves.

The problem was getting veterans—and hundreds of pieces of adaptive ski equipment—to where the snow remained. But for an event that’s been running for 40 years, adapting is the name of the game.

“Thankfully, we have a solid team—a great team,” said Alex Maitre, the clinic’s deputy director. “And we all came together, worked through the problem and made it happen.”

Before participants arrived, and while the mountain was still open for business, volunteers loaded empty gondolas full of sit-skis, outrigger poles and other supplies, sending them up to higher elevations where some snow remained. They put in long hours, working around patrons who were getting in their last runs of the season.

“My goal was to make sure the veterans didn’t feel any different throughout the week,” Maitre said. “They deserve this event. This is for them. It took a village this year—between DAV, the Department of Veterans Affairs, Aspen Skiing Co., the clinic’s staff and our volunteers—and we pulled it off.”

By the time participants arrived, it was mostly business as usual—but the impact remained anything but ordinary.

For veterans like Lopes, the clinic wasn’t about weather or logistics—it was about proving something to themselves and to each other.

“They pushed forward. They adapted—like us—and overcame the obstacle,” he said.