DirtCrashr took a look at Japan and decided to get more serious about a bugout bag, thoughtfully assembled for his most likely threat, earthquake followed by fires. I like the thinking there, in large part because it has none of the romantic claptrap penned by too many pocketa pocketa pocketa preppers.
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My vehicles usually contain a few essentials (water, tools, something to eat, warm stuff) and there's a little Duluth thwart bag handy which might see me through a couple of nights bivouacking the woods, but I have no SHTF pack as such. I already bugged out. I live in a bugout bag.
It is a little more than an acre of trees and grass with two cabins laden with store-bought bugout supplies. Even without killing mobile protein, there is pretty good eating for a few weeks, adequate nutrition for months, and wretched fodder for a few more. The armory is mostly hobby, but it nods to the ancient truth that you can have what you can defend.
Location. Location. Location. By chance, the bookends of my life placed me in kindly geography where food grows and the dramatic natural threats -- earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanoes -- are nonexistent.
So where else would I go to celebrate TEOTWAWKI? Medicine Wheel Pass in the Big Horns is more romantic -- Head fer the hills, boys; we're gonna be mountain men. -- but unless the hunting gods are feeling very generous, as soon as you run out of granola, Bunkie, you will starve.
There's no place like home.
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tbc
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