There is a thoughtprovoking piece that appeared in the St. Paul Pioneer Press on the 4th of July, written by outdoor columnist Chris Niskanen. Seems there is a controversy brewing over the installation of a tall cell phone tower near E ly, o n the edge of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilder ness ( B W - CAW).

In one camp are local residents and businesses that want better cell phone coverage, in an

area that – attesting from

my personal experience – has limited reception at

best and no reception over much of it. The area is remote, much of it heavily magnetic, varied in elevation and not well suited to good cell phone reception.

The impending legal battle pits a wilderness advocacy group against phone service giant AT&T, which wants to erect a cell phone tower just outside the boundary of BWCAW. According to reports, it would rise to more than 400 feet, capped by a flashing light to warn aircraft of its presence, though flight is restricted over the wilderness area itself.

Niskanen raises a point that is food for thought for all of us who value our time in the outdoors, time when we hopefully have some relief from the pressures of making a living and the anxieties that the modern world can generate.

The technologies that were once hailed as reducing workloads and creating more leisure time have actually done the opposite.

Laptop and notebook computers,

Blackberry devices – and even the now humbleseeming

cell phone – have made it possible for us to “be connected,” and to bring work and worry everywhere we go. So we do.

Undeniably, there is a tremendous convenience payoff from instant-anywhere communication. For example, when I do the family’s grocery shopping, I’d estimate that I call home as much as a half dozen times to get details

on an item on the grocery

list, or to ask the perennial “are we out of…” question

of my spouse.

Just the other day, as I was parked at the end of a forest road, pulling on waders and a vest as I got ready to spend a couple of hours fishing a trout stream, my cell phone rang. I was not technically fishing yet, so I “picked up.” My son was playing chef to a group of friends and wanted details on how to cook “dad’s lemon

parmesan chicken.” I

was flattered and gave him “the scoop” on the recipe.

Barely two weeks before, I stood in nearly the same spot, my cell phone buried in a pants pocket beneath waders and felt the telltale vibration that signaled a call. I missed that one and the recorded message proved to be about a medical issue of some importance. I fretted over missing the message, but the fishing that followed was better than average and it didn’t take long for me to realize that missing that call was not the end of the world.

The legal battle over cell phone coverage in the Boundary Waters is going to center on whether that 400-plus foot tower and its flashing light will damage the wilderness experience. It is undoubtedly a special experience to be beyond the edge of civilization, knowing that you must rely on your skills and judgment to be safe and secure and not lose your way. Having a highly visible symbol of man’s ability to civilize any corner of the planet and to know you can be in touch with your ordinary life as quickly as pressing 10 keys on your cell phone, will change that experience.

Will it impair a wilderness lover’s enjoyment if he hears another canoeist talking to the outside world on a cell phone? There are plenty of situations in everyday life here at home when I get irritated by cell phone conversations. Will that flashing tower light, seen from a remote campsite miles away, degrade the all too rare sense of aloneness?

The wilderness area’s few residents who want the convenience of cell phone benefits we take for granted might tell us to just look the other way. But I can’t help but feel that I’d be left with a sense that it’s become nearly impossible to escape the ability of other people and events to impose their duties and priorities on us, if even for a few brief days. If we can’t find it here, then where?

Apart from this battle in the Boundary Waters and more pertinent to us on a regular basis, we have to decide how much we need occasional time-outs, brief escapes from being constantly connected to people, pressures and “priorities.” We know that relief from these things is good for us. In the end it is we who have to make an “on” or “off” decisions to ensure that we have those moments of escape.