After doing some research on Personal Locator Beacons, I purchased an ACR Electronics ResQLink (Model PLB-375). I registered it with the US Government on the NOAA website. That way, should I ever activate the beacon, the authorities will know that it is me who sent it.
The unit is small and I will carry it with me in all my remote travels. It is to be used only as the last resort. Hopefully, I will never use it.
Having this unit does not give license to taking increased risks. I'm reminded of a planned hike on the Euchre Bar Trail last November. I wanted to try some late season gold panning, for I figured the river level was still low. The day was overcast with cool temperatures. No other vehicles were at Iron Point when I arrived. I started down the trail. The rocks were a bit slick from a recent rain. Some five minutes into my hike, I realized my stupidity. I would likely be the only person on the trail this day. Although I had fire starting items I did not have a jacket, much less a sleeping bag. The temperature during the night would drop to freezing. If I twisted an ankle or otherwise got injured not allowing me to walk, I could be dead of exposure before a search party found me. So I returned to my truck and drove home.
With the ResQLink in a similar situation, I would still turn around.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
A Man Recounts His Brush With Death, Providing a Lesson Learned
Today is Labor Day. I went to the North Fork of the Middle Fork of the American River for some exploring. I've been there a few times in recent weeks for gold panning but this time I just wanted to poke around.
Two other vehicles were parked near the trail head. A man was putting camping gear into one vehicle. As I gathered my pack, he walked over to say hello. His first name was Herbert. He was 63 and appeared in top physical shape. He lives in Fremont, California, where he works with a medical device company. He was finishing a solo camping and prospecting trip of several days along the river. He has hiked and camped the canyons of the American River since the 1960s, and he often goes by himself.
We talked about gold prospecting in the area. There are many mining claims along the Middle Fork. He had been working on a friend's claim with some luck.
He's had numerous black bear encounters over the years, so he now carries a Freedom Arms revolver with the .454 Casull cartridge, in a shoulder holster. He's never shot a bear but once he fired two rounds over a sow and her cub to chase them away from his camp. He says the .454 Casull will stop a black bear quick.
He told me of a survival situation he had in 2009 during the Labor Day weekend. He had hiked alone down to the North Fork of the American River, on the Sailor Flat Trail. This trail was built by the Forty-niners, it is very steep, and it leads to remote and rugged canyons. Few people go there. It's not a trip for the unfit. He explored along the river and lost the trail. He had to make his way uphill.
He encountered a large area of manzanita bushes. He crawled through them and atop them and the going was slow and difficult. He came to a rock clearing shortly before darkness fell. He built a small fire.
He was out of water, and being dehydrated he could not eat what small amount of food he had. His clothes were drenched with sweat. The night would be chilly. The fire provided some warmth but he could not sleep.
Morning came and he continued uphill. The manzanita gave way to rocks, which gave way to trees. He was completely lost. The day wore on. He was severely dehydrated and he knew that soon he would lose his reasoning. He could not survive another night in this canyon.
Except...a few months earlier, just for the heck of it, he had purchased a SPOT Personal Tracker, a personal locator beacon, which was in his pack. Now was the time to use it. He pressed the 911 button, which sent his coordinates with a distress notice to a satellite, and then to a GEOS International Emergency Response Center dispatcher, who notified the Placer County Sheriff's Department. It also sent an email with the coordinates and distress notice to his son in Los Angeles.
Before darkness fell, a helicopter arrived, but the canyon was too steep for it to land. The helicopter announced that a ground party would be dispatched. That party arrived in the darkness, and assisted Herbert uphill, where emergency vehicles and his son awaited.
Herbert was very emotional when he gave his account of his rescue, and his meeting with his son. He credits his life to the personal locator beacon, and the actions of the Placer County Search and Rescue Team.
Having heard Herbert's story of his brush with death, I decided I would purchase and carry a personal locator beacon. Although I always tell my wife where I'm going (and sometimes I even print out a map), I never carry even a cell phone with me when I hike alone. Part of it is because there's no cell phone reception in the deep canyons of the Sierra, part of it is because I figure my pioneer ancestors would roll over in their graves if I carried this "help" with me. (The latter is pig-headedness.) But now I'm going to buy and carry one.
We had a good long talk, and then we went on our ways. Herbert drove off for Fremont. I hiked alone into the canyon, taking video with commentary.
Well, almost alone. On the overlook to the river, about one mile from the trail head, a family of four passed me, with a sluice box and pans and other gear, in search of gold. I followed them down the steep steps carved into the slate rock, and continued upstream by myself for about one-half mile. This trail ran about thirty or forty feet above the river. I saw few panning spots of any promise. I returned to my truck.
Two other vehicles were parked near the trail head. A man was putting camping gear into one vehicle. As I gathered my pack, he walked over to say hello. His first name was Herbert. He was 63 and appeared in top physical shape. He lives in Fremont, California, where he works with a medical device company. He was finishing a solo camping and prospecting trip of several days along the river. He has hiked and camped the canyons of the American River since the 1960s, and he often goes by himself.
We talked about gold prospecting in the area. There are many mining claims along the Middle Fork. He had been working on a friend's claim with some luck.
He's had numerous black bear encounters over the years, so he now carries a Freedom Arms revolver with the .454 Casull cartridge, in a shoulder holster. He's never shot a bear but once he fired two rounds over a sow and her cub to chase them away from his camp. He says the .454 Casull will stop a black bear quick.
He told me of a survival situation he had in 2009 during the Labor Day weekend. He had hiked alone down to the North Fork of the American River, on the Sailor Flat Trail. This trail was built by the Forty-niners, it is very steep, and it leads to remote and rugged canyons. Few people go there. It's not a trip for the unfit. He explored along the river and lost the trail. He had to make his way uphill.
He encountered a large area of manzanita bushes. He crawled through them and atop them and the going was slow and difficult. He came to a rock clearing shortly before darkness fell. He built a small fire.
He was out of water, and being dehydrated he could not eat what small amount of food he had. His clothes were drenched with sweat. The night would be chilly. The fire provided some warmth but he could not sleep.
Morning came and he continued uphill. The manzanita gave way to rocks, which gave way to trees. He was completely lost. The day wore on. He was severely dehydrated and he knew that soon he would lose his reasoning. He could not survive another night in this canyon.
Except...a few months earlier, just for the heck of it, he had purchased a SPOT Personal Tracker, a personal locator beacon, which was in his pack. Now was the time to use it. He pressed the 911 button, which sent his coordinates with a distress notice to a satellite, and then to a GEOS International Emergency Response Center dispatcher, who notified the Placer County Sheriff's Department. It also sent an email with the coordinates and distress notice to his son in Los Angeles.
Before darkness fell, a helicopter arrived, but the canyon was too steep for it to land. The helicopter announced that a ground party would be dispatched. That party arrived in the darkness, and assisted Herbert uphill, where emergency vehicles and his son awaited.
Herbert was very emotional when he gave his account of his rescue, and his meeting with his son. He credits his life to the personal locator beacon, and the actions of the Placer County Search and Rescue Team.
Having heard Herbert's story of his brush with death, I decided I would purchase and carry a personal locator beacon. Although I always tell my wife where I'm going (and sometimes I even print out a map), I never carry even a cell phone with me when I hike alone. Part of it is because there's no cell phone reception in the deep canyons of the Sierra, part of it is because I figure my pioneer ancestors would roll over in their graves if I carried this "help" with me. (The latter is pig-headedness.) But now I'm going to buy and carry one.
We had a good long talk, and then we went on our ways. Herbert drove off for Fremont. I hiked alone into the canyon, taking video with commentary.
Well, almost alone. On the overlook to the river, about one mile from the trail head, a family of four passed me, with a sluice box and pans and other gear, in search of gold. I followed them down the steep steps carved into the slate rock, and continued upstream by myself for about one-half mile. This trail ran about thirty or forty feet above the river. I saw few panning spots of any promise. I returned to my truck.
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