Before Curt Andersen and I set out on a 33-mile bike ride in Rhode Island last week, he activated two apps on his smartphone, and then double-checked the route using an online mapping program.

Once we were underway, Curt stopped several times to take pictures, and also to answer text messages from friends planning a kayak trip.

Later, he addressed his phone: “Hey, Siri – how far are we from the parking lot?”

“You are 4.8 miles from India Point,” came Siri’s electronic reply, which Curt had programmed to speak with a British accent.

I began exploring The Great Outdoors in an old-school era, when you simply hopped on your bike and started pedaling, hit the trail carrying little more than a canteen, gorp and compass, or lashed a waterproof chart to the deck of your kayak.

I used to pooh-pooh technology geared for outdoor enthusiasts, but have come to appreciate smartphones, smartwatches and other electronica. They help us dumb humans navigate, check the weather forecast, summon help in an emergency, or simply coordinate rendezvous strategies.

A recurring scenario: Our hiking group arrives at an unmarked fork in the trail. Which way?

Typical responses: “I dunno.” “Me either.” “I think we should go left.” “No, it’s gotta be a right turn.”

My inclination is to suggest, “Let’s check the map” – but before I can fish the paper guide out of a pocket, one of my companions finds the correct route on a phone app, and off we go.

Which peaks have the best view? Visit alltrails.com, gaia.com, cairnme.com, avenzamaps.com or any of a dozen or so other mobile apps.

Thunderheads in the distance? Pull up weather.com, wunderground.com or the clime app to see if the radar shows a storm heading in your direction.

But, as Dylan famously sang, “You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.”

Same goes for common-sense solutions. You don’t have to be Sacagawea to figure out that a well-trampled trail, rather than one covered with brambles, is probably the right way, or that the appearance of mosquitoes, cattails and skunk cabbage means you’re heading for a swamp.

Friends and I also joke that sometimes our best outdoor experiences result from inadvertently straying off the trail. As Tolkien wrote, “Not all those who wander are lost.”

On one such occasion, while searching for a geologic formation called Split Rock, we encountered an enormous boulder that had been cleft in two.

“Here it is!” we exclaimed, taking photos of our “discovery.” Turns out the formation we sought was a mile or so away. No matter; after comparing images later with the “real” Split Rock, we agreed ours was way better.

On a more serious note, we once used a marine radio to summon help when a kayaker in our group experienced a medical emergency while paddling around Fishers Island.

I do bring a smartphone on excursions, mostly for photography, and occasionally for navigation.

Still, all smartphone apps don’t have to be useful – they can just be fun. The Relive apps Curt activated on our bike ride produced a video that combined the photos he took with a moving electronic line tracing our route. I have to say, it was pretty cool.

That said, I’m wary of the price you might pay for relying on cellphones – and not just a dollar amount.

First of all, they can give ill-prepared outdoor adventurers a false sense of security, leading them to mistakenly believe that if they got lost, twisted an ankle, or ran out of steam, they would simply have to call for a rescue. Wrong. No one can help when batteries run down or there’s no cellphone service.

Next, making non-emergency calls can be as annoying to other hikers as discarded nips. That’s why most campground shelters prohibit their use.

Almost as obnoxious are cellphone photographers who line up to take selfies at every scenic view. Some national parks have constructed so-called selfie stations to control the practice.

My main concern about overuse of technology on the trail or in the water is that instead of providing a connection, it forms a barrier, blocking out many of nature’s wonderful sights and sounds. Part of the joy of being outdoors is watching clouds drift, fog lift, a sunrise, sunset, full moon; listening to birds chirp, frogs croak, leaves rustle, trees creak, waves crash, streams gurgle…

Much better than staring at a screen.