Lost by Design
The Shady Business of National Park Maps
In the summer of 2021, I went on a road trip to explore as many National Parks west of the Mississippi River as I could hit. I was accompanied on this adventure by my boyfriend for the entire trip, and by my best friend for a portion of it. We were stymied in our quest by dangerously high temperatures, wildfires, wildfire smoke, and Covid-related closures, but we still managed to experience about twenty National Parks and multiple National Monuments in less than four months: a once-in-a-lifetime trip. As experienced hikers, we tried to avoid crowds where possible, camp in primitive sites when we could, and find far-flung trails where we could stay pandemic-safe and bask in solitude. We met resistance to this approach at nearly every turn.
We wanted to make sure we were safe when heading off the paved trails and into the wilderness. This meant trying to do research ahead of time regarding what backcountry trails to take, where trailheads were most easily accessible, and learning about the expected topography and terrain of these trails. One of the greatest assets in trail safety is, of course, a good map. We were shocked at the lack of good maps in National Parks, across the board.
The maps we encountered at trailheads and public boards at Visitor Centers were abysmal. They were weathered and hard to read. Scale was misleading or nonexistent. Distances were unclear, and terrain and elevation gain were usually missing entirely. Several times we drove miles down primitive roads only to find that the trail we were looking for was closed, though there had been no indication of the closure on maps. This doesn’t even begin to take into account the fact that all these maps are only in English, while millions of visitors every year are not native English speakers. Jeez, I thought to myself multiple times, no wonder so many people get lost in National Parks. In 2017, there were 3,453 reported search and rescue missions and 182 deaths in National Parks in the United States. This only includes SAR-involved cases. Cases in which a group or individual was lost but found by rangers or other visitors are not included in this count. In fact, there is no way to know the true number of those who find themselves lost in National Parks because the National Parks System does not keep records of this data.
Once you have paid between $20-$35 dollars to enter a National Park, there is a reasonable assumption that you should be able to enjoy that park safely without extra cost. This is not a reality. If you want the good maps- the maps that ensure you won’t end up dying of heat stroke a mere 1.6 miles from your car- you can expect to pay another 6 to 16 dollars per trail map. These “real” trail maps are specific to certain trails (usually backcountry or backcountry adjacent) and give you the goodies that regular National Parks maps lack, like elevation gain, topographic contour lines, and accurate distance measurements. Want to take that map you just paid for out into the backcountry? There might be a fee for that as well. Backcountry access permits can cost as much as $30 per trip. And companies like REI wonder why the outdoors feels inaccessible to minorities and low-income groups.
After I realized that accurate and safe trail maps were being considered by the National Parks Service to be just another means of making money off our tourists, I came to view the terrible parks maps as being bad by design. These maps, any of which would have gotten me a ‘D’ in my GIS mapping course in graduate school, were purposefully trying to make people woefully confused, in the hopes that they would go drop another $30 at the park Visitor’s Center. It is my personal opinion that they are also designed to try and keep the bulk of visitors within a mile or so of the parking lot. Once a mile or further away from paved roads, the crowds at National Parks — even those that are known for their throngs of tourists — vanish. So too do the rangers and docents. It would be an impossible feat to man every square mile of trail in a given National Park. So why not ensure that the visitors that do have the stamina to explore further afield have accurate and useful maps? It seems to me that the benefits of lowered search and rescue spending alone would make improved trail maps worth the effort.
I highly recommend those wanting to explore National Parks to download Avenza or a similar cartography app on their phones. Of course, phones have the limitation of dying while out in the wilderness. My hope is that the National Parks Service will increase the quality of their maps to make sure visitors don’t, too.
