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It works in the Arctic!
Date of Review: Mar 1, 2005
The Bottom Line: I've rated the eTrex Vista as average simply because this is the only one I've ever owned or used. It may be better, or worse. It works.
From my journal on my year of teaching in Alaska
"At almost exactly 2:00 PM I met Pick and Dave at the snowmobiles parked between Pick's place and the school. Dave's new machine's throttle cable was frozen so it took a few minutes with a hair dryer to get us going.
The earlier prediction for a blizzard looked to be in error. It was a fine, cloudy but bright winter day as we motored north out of our village toward the airport. As we neared the airport it began snowing heavily and we stopped to talk with some of the local men who were just returning from their hunting trip on the mainland north of town.
It snowed hard enough that I thought the outing would be canceled. However, as we visited the sun broke through the clouds and the snow lessened. Pick decided that out hunting trip was a "go." The villagers told us the snow had been on-and-off all day long.
We crossed the frozen lagoon from the airport running the snowmobiles at 20-25 mph scooting across the ice toward where we'd seen caribou earlier in the week.
Once across the ice we headed toward some low hills that can be seen from our village. Our first misadventure happened almost immediately. We spotted a large herd of caribou and began a run toward them at as high a speed as was safe crossing the bumpy tundra. On snowmobiles there's a drive belt that delivers the engine's power to the transmission. Mine broke. The engine raced and the snowmobile stopped. I was driving behind the other two and so was just a bit worried that I'd be left. They stopped to check the location of the caribou herd in a mile or so and discovered that I was missing.
Luckily Pick had a replacement belt in his snowmobile's toolkit so we were soon back into the hunt.
The snow isn't deep enough as yet to affect the mobility of caribou and I was amazed at how fast they could run. We chased after the largest herd that we'd seen for a couple of miles with absolutely no chance of catching them.
They soon joined a larger herd and down in the lowlands crossing a frozen lake I saw a herd of caribou that had to containing thousands of animals.
Unfortunately for us, they were about a half-mile from us and moving very rapidly away.
When we had begun our chase we'd cut off a smaller herd and knew there were caribou behind us. We turned back in pursuit of an easier to obtain group of animals.
As we made the run toward the smaller herd I saw that they were lying down resting on the tundra plain. As we approached they arose and began running away from us. Once again, even with powerful snowmobiles the herd easily pulled away.
The caribou did make a mistake. About half of the herd turned to the right. Dave and Pick rode after them. I went after the other half straight ahead. I was able to close on the small herd. Then they made a mistake again. This small herd turned right to follow the ones Pick and Dave were after. That meant that they'd have to travel close by the other two hunters. Pick and Dave both harvested a caribou.
One of the animals that I'd been chasing kept running straight. I continued my chase and was able to catch it. The animal was a very small female, probably a yearling. I abandoned the chase and turned back to rejoin the others.
I first found Pick. His snowmobile was pulling the sled that is used for all types of hauling in the winter. He was just about to load his animal onto the sled. As I rode up to him it once again began to snow heavily.
Pick and I tossed his caribou into the sled and headed back to Dave's kill. By the time we got there it was difficult to see any distance at all due to the snow and wind. We loaded Dave's caribou into the sled and headed home. We thought.
The storm worsened and we were soon riding in whiteout conditions. It was impossible to see more than a few yards in any direction. All visual reference points were completely masked by the blowing snow.
Pick said he knew the way home so Dave and I fell in behind him letting him trust his sense of direction. We soon discovered that even one as experienced as Pick couldn't trust instinctive navigation in a whiteout. There simply was no way to know which way was the direction of the town or which way we were headed.
On our second or third stop I broke out my new GPS receiver and discovered we were traveling almost 180 degrees away from the proper heading. I've already locked in the location of the apartment and "downtown." The GPS also said that we were a little over 4 miles from home. On any normal day from that distance the village would be visible in the distance. Today, anything more than 25 yards away was invisible.
I pointed Pick in the right direction and fell in behind once again as we rode toward home. Soon we were off course again. After a few more stops and attempts at setting the proper course with Pick in the lead we discovered that it was very difficult to stay on course. No, it was impossible in the whiteout.
I suggested that I take the lead with the GPS. The others fell in behind. Soon we were off course again. We discovered my GPS unit doesn't work in close proximity to a running snowmobile. Apparently there's enough electromagnetic interference created by the running engine that it can't read the satellite signals. The screen of the GPS showed that I was headed straight for the village but soon Pick rode up and told me that we were curving to the right. Apparently the GPS simply locked in its last clear signal and displayed the direction as straight ahead. Turning the snowmobile or turning the GPS didn't cause any change in the navigation pointer. I dismounted from the snowmobile, stepped away a few paces, and discovered he was exactly right. The GPS readout changed to show the village to our southeast.
Obviously, by now all three of us were becoming more than just a little concerned about our situation. Darkness was rapidly approaching and being lost on the Alaska tundra in a blizzard is never a good situation. It's especially not a good situation at night.
The way the circumstance was resolved was by my dismounting my snowmobile, moving away from it a few yards and taking a reading. Using that reading we'd ride a few hundred yards and repeat the process. Very soon we began to see the "distance from target" display begin to count down on the GPS screen. According to the GPS we were riding in the correct direction. Even so, I have to admit that I now know why instrument flying for pilots is sometimes difficult. None of us were completely convinced that we were going in the right direction but all of us knew that the GPS would either save us or get us into even more severe trouble. We knew we didn't know how to get home. We had to trust the electronic instrument.
After a half-hour or more of leapfrogging our readings and travel we began to see the blinking strobe light of the airport through the white haze. What a relief! The GPS did its job. We had been completely lost without hope of finding our way on our own. The GPS was the only thing that brought us home.
Obviously I'm glad I bought it. When I got back to the apartment I treated it to a fresh set of batteries. I'll add another fresh set or two to my hunting bag for use in case of emergencies. Today, I was praying that my batteries would last. They did.
