On a spring afternoon at Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado, hikers and trail runners returned from the wilderness confident they had prepared adequately for the trails—yet fewer than one in five carried the gear that could actually save their life. This gap between perceived and real preparedness is at the heart of a new Boston University study that challenges hikers' self-assessment and reveals a blind spot in how people approach outdoor adventure.
John Lambert, a researcher at the BU School of Public Health and a BU Center for Climate & Health investigator, surveyed over 600 visitors to the park after they completed day hikes or trail runs. He asked them about their wilderness experience and the gear they carried, then assessed their preparedness against concrete standards: at least one liter of water, seven of the National Park Service's "Ten Essentials," a map or navigation device, plus either two rescue devices or eight of 15 recommended first-aid items. The results, published in Wilderness & Environmental Medicine, exposed a troubling reality.
Only 15.7 percent of day hikers and 25 percent of trail runners actually met the criteria for being wilderness prepared—despite most participants rating themselves as adequately equipped. This perception-reality divide has real consequences. In a single week in April across New Hampshire's White Mountains, seven hikers required rescue and another was found dead on a trail after failing to return from a solo backpacking trip. As warmer weather draws more Americans into parks and forests each year, the volume of wilderness emergencies—and the expensive, complex search-and-rescue operations they trigger—continues to rise.
Lambert attributes the gap partly to simple unawareness. People pack what they think they'll need without considering what could actually save them in trouble. A hiker might toss in food and water and never think about emergency signaling devices or first-aid supplies. Even more fundamentally, many don't anticipate the specific hazards of higher altitudes or understand how quickly a routine day hike can turn dangerous when conditions shift or a wrong turn happens.
The study is believed to be the first to closely examine trail runners as a distinct group separate from hikers. That distinction matters because trail runners travel lighter, move faster, and cover significantly more ground in the same timeframe—yet their preparedness rates were higher at 25 percent. The finding underscores that safety challenges vary by activity and audience, and that one-size-fits-all messaging won't work.
Lambert is advocating for what parks call preventative search and rescue, or PSAR: targeted educational outreach designed to reach people before they venture into the wilderness. "From a public health perspective, anytime outside is great," he says. "That being said, you still have to be smart about it, and being prepared can save your life or someone else's." The emphasis on community resilience—understanding that good preparation protects not just yourself but anyone you encounter on the trail—points toward a vision of outdoor recreation that is both joyful and thoughtful. As more people rediscover wild spaces, ensuring they arrive equipped and aware may be the difference between a perfect day in nature and a tragedy that ripples through rescue teams and families alike.