Saving yourself from danger in the wilderness used to require skill. Also plenty of effort.
Now, all it takes is the touch of a finger.
Press button. Distress call transmitted. Authorities notified. Help on the way.
When used correctly, personal locator beacons and satellite trackers greatly assist search-and-rescue efforts by providing exact GPS coordinates for a person who is lost or injured.
But as more people take these devices into the backcountry, more people are using them irresponsibly, say rangers at Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. Too often they decide to push a button instead of using their heads.
"We've had more illegitimate distress calls this summer than ever before, thanks to these gizmos," said wilderness coordinator Gregg Fauth.
Among the examples from this summer:
A Pacific Crest Trail hiker, frightened during a lightning storm, transmitted two 911 calls on her personal satellite messenger. A widespread search ensued, only for a sheriff to find her in Lone Pine several days later. She neglected to tell anyone she had gotten out.
Barely a mile from the trailhead, a Boy Scout troop sent a 911 emergency call because someone had sprained an ankle.
A 68-year-old-woman, backpacking solo in a remote section of the parks, sent an ambiguous "Help" message to her husband 15 times over a 12-hour period after falling and hitting her head. The woman never stopped moving, sending rangers on a needless chase, before she exited the wilderness on her own.
"We're going to respond, but we don't have the resources to be chasing people," said parks spokeswoman Adrienne Freeman. "Pressing a button is not the answer. Assessing risks is the answer."
Sequoia and Kings Canyon occupy 1,352 square miles of the Southern Sierra Nevada, 83% of which is designated wilderness. The jointly managed parks, visited by about 1.5 million people annually, contain the range's tallest peaks, including Mount Whitney, and the most remote river canyons.
Along with phones and GPS units, the introduction of satellite trackers and messengers for personal use raises the eternal debate over whether (or how much) technology belongs in the backcountry. And whether relying on computerized gadgets at the expense of tried-and-true backcountry skills somehow dilutes the experience.
"It should not replace basic skills like knowing how to use a map and compass or reading terrain," Fauth said. "And it shouldn't replace the basic reason why people go into the wilderness, which is about challenge and learning self reliance.
"Where's the sense of accomplishment if all you know how to do to get yourself out of trouble is push a button?"
How they work
Since purchasing his SPOT satellite messenger in June 2008, Steve Cosner never goes hiking or backpacking without it. Not only because he may need to summon help, but also to comfort his wife back home in Fresno when he's out rambling in the mountains.
Cosner's unit, the most popular in the marketplace, contains three function buttons labeled 911, Help and OK.
Press 911 and the GPS coordinates of your location are transmitted to the GEOS International Emergency Response Center, which in turn contacts local authorities.
Press Help or OK, and a pre-programmed e-mail or text message of your choosing is sent to up to 10 people. Help is designed for nonemergency assistance that could mean anything from "Send food" to "Pick me up a day early."
The OK button is to let folks on your list know all is well and also to provide a link of your location on Google Maps.
"It's a toy to tell folks where I am," Cosner said. "My wife likes to know. It gives her reassurance seeing where I am."
But even messages meant to reassure can put rangers in a tricky position. This summer, the mother of an 18-year-old solo backpacker called the park and demanded they start searching for her son because he didn't press the OK button on his SPOT device that day as promised, rangers said.
(No search was initiated because the hiker was not 24 hours overdue. He did not require help.)
"What happens when we lose the self-reliance factor in exchange for this technology?" Freeman asked. "If junior doesn't push his button because he forgot or he dropped it or the batteries ran out, it shouldn't be our problem."
Sequoia district ranger Dan Pontbriand was more blunt: "The parks are not a baby-sitting service."
That isn't all. Pontbriand also believes, as do many in his line of work, that satellite-based gadgetry can delude people who aren't experienced in the backcountry into making poor decisions.
In essence, technology doesn't make the wilderness safer. Wilderness is wilderness. Meet it on its own terms.
"People take risks they wouldn't normally take because they think these devices will just bail them out," Pontbriand said. "They say, 'I'll try to cross this fast-moving creek because if I slip, I can just push a button and someone will rescue me.'
"That's absolutely the wrong decision-making process."
Precision in rescues
Until SPOT, a subsidiary of Globalstar Inc., hit store shelves last year, personal locator beacons (PLBs) weren't as functional and cost several hundred dollars.
SPOT retails for $149, plus $99 for the annual service activation. Each unit weighs 7.2 ounces (a lighter second-generation unit was unveiled this month) and waterproof, making them attractive to boaters as well as backpackers.
And they have proven useful. According to company spokesman Derek Moore, SPOT has initiated more than 325 rescues in 51 countries during its first 11/2 years on the market.
"Many of those have been life-saving," Moore said. "We receive a lot of feedback from search and rescue agencies thanking us for bringing rescuers to within 28 feet of the victim by providing their GPS coordinates."
The product's terms and conditions, which also appear on its Web site (
www.findmespot.com), clearly state the 911 function is to be used only in a life-threatening situation or as a last resort.
But Moore acknowledged that hasn't always been the case.
"With any safety device, the user needs to understand its functionality and intended use," he said. "People have to ultimately be responsible for themselves. The technology is there to enhance your experience and provide additional safety, but it's meant as a backup plan."
According to Randy Coffman of Shaver Lake, a retired national park ranger and search and rescue expert, no electronic gadget can ever replace backcountry basics like knowing how to use a map and compass, carrying a signal mirror or the ability to read terrain and conditions.
After all, it's wilderness. Batteries go dead, stuff has a tendency to break or become lost and rescue helicopters don't fly in bad weather. Even SPOT only transmits when the unit's antenna has a line-of-sight with a Globalstar satellite, which might not be the case if you happened to be at the bottom of a canyon.
"When people use these devices correctly and appropriately, it can help create a safe buffer for them," Coffman said. "But it should never be their sole reliance. It's just a tool in the box, not a magic answer."
