UNESSENTIAL GEAR: Last dance with Sirius: It was time to cancel

Satellite radio would seem to be a perfect tool for travelers. It promises entertainment, weather and news when you are far from major cities.

It fails on that promise, especially in places that don’t have a clear view of the horizon or along roads that rapidly change elevation. Sirius Satellite Radio does not work in the northern reaches of Canada and in Alaska. Its online customer service chat confirms this as fact. Bring your tunes as MP3s or go old school with CDs.

A solicitation arrived via snail mail offering to extend the subscription service for another year at the rate of more than $40 per month total for two vehicles, autocharging my credit card for another year, at this highly inflated rate if I didn’t take action. I had been paying a total of $15.64. Sirius promised or threatened to start sending yearly notices only via email.

Calling the 1-800 number, I joined the queue of those begging to quit this inflated service.

The customer service rep dutifully answered and after a long wait for my account to be pulled up, noticed that I had, each year, attempted to cancel, and a customer service rep had rescued my account by presenting me with discounts. I explained that the service failed me when I needed it . First, his offer involved a continuation of the lower rate: something everyone should put a tickler in their calendars to call and request in the month before your accounts come due for any entertainment provider.

I explained my displeasure and the rate kept falling. He even promised a $4.95 monthly charge to stay part of the Sirius team with an online-only service. But what is Sirius without its satellite network? Just another entertainment source tethered to the internet. And without mobile Starlink, when our travels often take us to places without Wi-Fi or cellphone coverage, all that would come through our speakers would be static.

Even in some remote locations within the lower 48, the satellite can’t reach your radio receiver.

Along U.S. 550 and then the pot-holed, gravel roads to Chaco Culture National Historical Park, the “70s on 7 or just the ’70s” or “Channel 301 Road Trip Radio” blasted out of the vehicle. But after entering the deep of canyon walls, the signal was lost. It was the day the music died.

Our subscription has been canceled for good.