Killer GPS

A Conspiracy Theory

Story and Photos by G.T. Rees

I think my Global Positioning System is trying to kill me. I’ve noticed a troubling trend over the last few years in the electronic doohickey I carry around to keep from getting lost.

It seems every trip into the mountains has become a rigged game of roulette with my electronic gadget, which tries to strand me by delivering faulty information.

Take the time I went hunting in the Coeur d’Alene Mountains, and on the way back missed my truck by no more than a hundred yards. The screen showed right where my truck was, but that tiny shot didn’t match up with the terrain, and I quickly wandered off course. As a result, I spent an entire day slogging through a foot of new snow, running out of water, and puking my guts out in the shower from dehydration when I finally did get home. Before you think, What an idiot, why didn’t he just eat some snow? I did. It doesn’t provide enough water when you’re really hoofing it, hence the puking in the shower. This entire misadventure could have been avoided if I hadn’t relied on my GPS for directions.

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