Satellite-Linked Phones Summon Rescuers to Remote Lands, Waters

   A family friend who loved spending weekends on his motorcycle insisted that safety rested mostly on himself, even though a bumper sticker on his car advised, “Watch for Motorcycles.”

   As he often said, “You die when you quit fearing them.”

   He didn’t mean you must be too terrified to ride motorcycles. He worried that complacency would kill you, while respectful caution kept you safe.

   Such wariness applies to most outdoor recreation we love, whether it’s paddling rivers, hiking the Northwoods, canoeing remote lakes, hunting Western mountains, fishing on the Great Lakes, or cruising the countryside on ATVs, UTVs or snowmobiles.

   I recalled that advice in 2006 while bowhunting elk at 11,000 feet in Colorado as I hopped from one huge boulder to the next while crossing an old avalanche site. I paused after each hop to stare 10 feet down into the voids between boulders. I would’ve vanished forever had I fallen. I doubt I could’ve climbed out, and my hunting partner didn’t know I’d gone that way for my afternoon hunt. I also doubted my walkie-talkie or cheap cell phone would’ve summoned rescuers from near or far.

   That winter, recalling my cold sweats atop those boulders, I bought an ACR rescue beacon for about $500. I’ve replaced the unit at cheaper prices and for better models twice the past two decades after their lithium batteries died. I’ve never needed to trigger my beacons, but I like knowing they can summon help whether I’m hunting the Northwoods or a mountain crevice when my iPhone says, “No Signal,” or when fishing a remote lake or Lake Michigan after forgetting to recharge the phone.

Hunts deep inside remote areas, like this one in Minnesota's Superior National Forest, often take hunters beyond the reach of cellular signals. Many handheld devices today offer satellite-linked communication for texts and emergency communications.     — Patrick Durkin photo

      After triggering an emergency beacon, a military-directed search-and-rescue team will soon come looking for you. The beacon sends your 15-digit “unique identification number,” or UIN, to satellites monitored by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. And it keeps transmitting for at least 48 hours.

   Orbiting satellites pinpoint your location as quickly as 30 seconds, and relay the information to mission control in Maryland. The system then sends your location and information to the U.S. Coast Guard for water rescues, and the Air Force Rescue Coordination Center in Virginia for land-based rescues.

   Likewise, I’m flattered each fall when receiving SPOT Satellite text-messages that tell me “All is well in the woods.” That means my buddy Dave Burgess is somewhere in Colorado’s high country chasing elk or mule deer, and that he pressed a button that sent his waypoint, and assurances to his wife and friends that he’s back in his spike camp for the night. Plus, I think he likes reminding me that he’s hunting elk or muleys in the back-country, and I’m not.

   No matter where you hunt, fish or explore, you’ll find endless ways to get lost, hurt or stranded. And if you can’t summon help or find an escape hatch, you can die. Cautionary tales are common. Consider Geraldine Largay, 66, a retired Air Force nurse from Tennessee who died about four weeks after stepping off the Appalachian Trail in Maine on July 22, 2013, for a bathroom break.

   Two years later, a forester found her flattened tent and backpack about 2 miles from the trail. Inside the tent, he found her skull within scraps of her sleeping bag. Largay’s notebook entries indicate she died about Aug. 18, 2013, likely from fatigue and exposure.

   After realizing her predicament, Largay apparently wandered for two days, covering three or four miles while searching for the trail or high ground to get her bearings and send a text message to her husband. She finally made camp and pitched her tent beneath a fallen tree. Her desperate texts failed to send for lack of a signal.

   Her husband summoned help when she failed to check in, but searchers never found her. Investigators later determined at least three K9 teams had come within 100 yads of Largay’s camp.

   Though hunters, hikers and anglers in 2013 had ways to seek help through satellite-connected devices, today we have many more, and they’re cheaper and more convenient. In fact, some smartphone plans from AT&T, Verizon and T-Mobile offer emergency services through satellite connections when you’re beyond reach of cellular towers.

   Further, the popular onX Hunt app — which lets you know where you’re standing and who owns the land beneath your feet — now offers its onX SOS emergency button as one of its tools. This program, provided by Overwatch and Rescue, connects users to a 24/7 crisis-response center through cellular or satellite messaging. In addition, should you need help and require a medical evacuation, both are covered and insured in over 220 countries and territories by the program’s $50 annual fee.

   Heck, if you doubt onX’s claims that the app coordinated over 15,000 rescues the past year, click on its rescue story page (https://www.overwatchxrescue.com/rescue-stories/) to read the tales. They include   …

   — A hiker who broke an arm and leg after falling in the Banff National Park in Alberta, Canada, requiring an airlift from a remote location. The helicopter then transferred the hiker to an ambulance for transport to a hospital.

   — A boat with four hunters/anglers in Alaska began taking on water, prompting one of them to hit the SOS button on the onX Hunt app. Alaska State Troopers quickly located their boat and rescued them.

   — Eight people hunting on Alaska’s North Slope Borough lost shelter when a storm collapsed their tents. Their SOS summoned the Alaska Rescue Coordination Center, which sent an F92 helicopter to extract them.

   You get the point.

   None of these apps, devices, smartphones or rescue beacons are bulky, expensive or difficult to use. Chances are, you’re already carrying at least one.

   But if you’re too cheap or dismissive about safety to protect yourself in the back-country, consider asking a loved one to take more responsibility for you and your family’s welfare.