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'Death By GPS' Increasing In America's Wilderness

An anonymous reader writes "Every year, more and more Americans are dying in deserts and wildernesses because they rely on their GPS units (and, to some degree, their cellphones) to always be accurate. The Sacramento Bee quotes Death Valley wilderness coordinator Charlie Callagan: 'It's what I'm beginning to call death by GPS ... People are renting vehicles with GPS and they have no idea how it works and they are willing to trust the GPS to lead them into the middle of nowhere.'"

4 of 599 comments (clear)

  1. Re:Darwin would be proud. by Sponge+Bath · · Score: 5, Funny

    GPS is just a theory. I subscribe to Intelligent Directionism.

  2. Bear Grylls don't need no stinkin' GPS by Lucas123 · · Score: 4, Funny

    He'd hold two sticks up to the sun, determine his location and time to destination ... then eat a few grubs and squeeze a shot of water from some animal dung.

  3. How to Mess with OnStar by plover · · Score: 4, Funny

    So if you're up there on those wintery roads and bored out of your mind, try this: Drive your OnStar equipped vehicle to the middle of a large frozen lake. Press the button. Continue driving in straight lines, occasionally stopping to make square left and right hand turns. Talk to the nice lady from India (or Southern California) who has never seen ice in any amount larger than a water pitcher, and tell her you're kind of lost.

    --
    John
    1. Re:How to Mess with OnStar by RobertB-DC · · Score: 4, Funny

      Talk to the nice lady from India (or Southern California) who has never seen ice in any amount larger than a water pitcher, and tell her you're kind of lost.

      No need to work that hard, just do what I did. Run out of gas in West Texas, say between Childress and Quanah. Make it on a sunny 100-degree-plus Sunday afternoon in the middle of summer. You, too, can have a conversation with OnStar like I did!

      Me (sheepish): I ran out of gas.
      OnStar: We'll send someone right out.

      Time passes...

      OnStar: Sir, we show you near Childress, Texas, but I don't have any facilities there. What's the nearest larger town?
      Me: This is West Texas, Ma'm. There are no larger towns.

      They ended up sending out the county sheriff with a five-gallon jug of gas.

      --
      Stressed? Me? Of course not. Stress is what a rubber band feels before it breaks, silly.