DL Tolleson.com

There are any number of ways to become lost in the desert. The typical way is to become disoriented (because everything looks similar) and being unprepared (not having a map, a compass, a GPS, food, water, flashlight, batteries, clothing adequate for the conditions, etc., etc.).

Here’s how I was “lost” for a few hours…

I had spent most of my day looking for a particular item of Indian rock art (the red buffalo) and had made note of a number of landmarks. However, I decided to leave the riverbed and scout higher elevations. I thus abandoned the landmarks I had previously identified—along with any recognizable trail. Those factors, in and of themselves, were not much of a problem because I was familiar with the distant surrounding landmarks (mountains). But the most important factor working against me was that I was in a losing race with the setting sun. That fact alone was very important.

Post Meridiem darkness in the desert yields indistinguishable black mountains but starlight sufficient to view immediate surroundings. In other words, you can see after a fashion but distant landmarks are useless for navigation. In short, after the sun set I had no clue where I was.

When reaching that point I pulled out the GPS for keeping a track of my subsequent trail. In this way I would know where I had been and a good idea of where I was going (the map was useless at that time). With both my GPS and Compass indicating south I knew that to my left was west and the riverbed from which I had climbed.

In that riverbed were formations I could use as landmarks—one of which was not too far removed from my original entry point of mid-morning.

That formation, pictured above, was easily recognizable as I passed it in the dark of night. But what I did not recognize was my entry point—which was a crevasse that carries run-off to the river during hard rains. And while I did specifically see it that night, I failed to recognize it for what it was.

I had traveled a good couple of miles beyond that entry point when I was finally uncertain of whether I had actually passed the entry point. If I had missed my entry point to the riverbed, I realized I would only miss it again if backtracking. And if I hadn’t passed it, I realized I was not recognizing anything in the dark—even with a flashlight (which, when used, ruins your night vison). So I climbed from the riverbed and for the second time of the night cut across the desert.

But whereas my first desert “crisscrossing” was to intersect with a riverbed of which I had personal knowledge, my second trail-blazing effort was in search of a road indicated on a GPS into which I had not loaded any sort of Park map.

Since I didn’t actually know the area, my quandary was two-fold: Am I anywhere close to where I think I am? Is this road on the GPS the one I think it is?

It turned out to be the correct road—the only road, in fact. The GPS readings in latitude and longitude correlated to a map position a couple of miles west of my car—which was a bit disorienting. For until I reached that road and compared my position to the map coordinates, I would have sworn I was east of where I had left the car. In other words I had walked out of the desert and onto the road west of where I expected to be. It would not be until I was in my rock art search of the next day that I would grasp how missing the riverbed landmark had resulted in overshooting the car by at least a couple of miles.

So let this be a lesson you learn well. Never walk off into desert without the means by which to navigate your way back out. That means having a map, a compass, a GPS, a flashlight and extra batteries for whatever uses them.

—DL Tolleson