When the Compass Lies

I want to talk about trust today. Specifically, the tools we trust.

My compass—a Silva Ranger I've carried for 15 years—has never steered me wrong. It's been through rainstorms, drops off cliffs, once even went through a washing machine accidentally. Still worked perfectly.

Until this morning.

I was checking my bearings for a planned hike when I noticed the needle was off. Way off. It was pointing roughly northeast when it should have been pointing north.

My first thought: finally broke. Fifteen years is a good run.

But then I walked 100 yards toward the creek, checked again. Needle was pointing true north.

Walked back to my cabin. Needle pointed northeast again.

I spent the next three hours mapping this. Whatever is affecting my compass is localized. There's a zone roughly 200 yards in diameter centered just southwest of my cabin where magnetic north shifts by about 40 degrees.

I've heard of natural magnetic anomalies—iron deposits, certain rock formations. But those don't appear overnight. Those are permanent features. This wasn't here last month. I would have noticed.

So either something underground changed, or something was added.

The zone overlaps partially with mile marker 17. The same area where I hear the hum. Where my recordings have gaps.

I'm building a map of all these anomalies. They're not random. They're forming a shape. I'm not sure what shape yet, but I'll know it when I see it.

Don't trust your tools absolutely. They can only tell you what their sensors detect. And if something is manipulating those sensors, your tools become liars without knowing it.