I eased my knapsack off my shoulders, pulled out my trusted Canon and fitted a telephoto. Leaving the bag on a ledge, I moved slowly and quietly toward a better vantage point.That's when my right foot slipped on a loose rock, putting me face-down in the alpine gravel. I began sliding, feet-first and untethered, down the slope. Reflexively, I went spread-eagle, halting the slide and avoiding what could've been a deadly fall.
It took me an excruciating hour to creep to relative safety, and still another hour to make my way back to my knapsack, a hundred yards away.
I never did get the shot.
The experience left me with my life and more than a few lessons -- chief among them my resolve to never again willingly separate myself from my gear.
But what if I'd found myself in a "Now what?" situation, whether unavoidably or through my own negligence, in the same kind of place and with the same assets? Inventory check: the clothes on my back, a pocketknife, cigarettes and paper matches, chewing gum, wristwatch, wallet, car keys and camera.
Moving down-slope, below the tree line and into the basin, I would've had access to snow and moving water that I could've collected in the camera body, the lens hood or even a boot. The alpine scrub offered pitch, tinder and fuel for a fire. Leaning cut boughs over a rock outcropping would've made for a tolerable shelter. My camera's lens might've been useful as a firestarter, a signaling device or a cutting tool. Being late summer, potentially edible creek-side vegetation was plentiful.
Despite being ill-equipped, I believe I could've survived.
When the SHTF, our only resources are the ones we have at-hand. Months of work stocking a TEOTWAWKI cache in the basement isn't much good if we're stuck in traffic miles away. That bug-out bag stashed in the trunk becomes useless the moment the car is stolen. Maybe we left our personal-defense handgun at home in the safe, because we never made the time to get a concealed-carry permit.
Spilled milk, that. The mission doesn't change. Survive.
Regardless of the situation, mindset is the key to survival. To reinforce that, the U.S. military has used the word SURVIVAL as a mnemonic device:
- Size up the situation
- Use all your senses, Undue haste makes waste
- Remember where you are
- Vanquish fear & panic
- Improvise
- Value living
- Act like the natives
- Live by your wits, Learn basic skills now
Preparedness begins, then, with mindset and skills. After that, we can consider the kind of gear that increases our chances of survival -- along with the best ways to ensure that we have it when we need it.
On that Montana mountainside, I made the mistake of leaving behind some of the gear that would've been helpful in a survival situation, but I still had a knife in my pocket. To this day, I always carry a serviceable knife -- whether it's a basic pocketknife, a multi-tool, a big folder or a fixed blade, and airport security notwithstanding, it's simply not negotiable.
Sometimes, of course, becoming separated from a well-stocked fanny pack or knapsack can't be helped, so I've learned to appreciate the value of carrying a minimal kit in my pocket whenever I head into the woods.I highly recommend the Field & Stream article on building a simple kit that fits in an Altoids tin. Assembling such a kit is guaranteed to make you feel like a kid again, especially if you involve kids in the project. For some of the more unusual items, by the way, I've found Best Glide Aviation Survival Equipment to be a reliable source.
Back in 2004, then-Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld said,
"You have to go to war with the army you have, not the army you want."That assertion may have plunged Sec. Rumsfeld deep into hot water, but for those of us engaged in preparing ourselves and our families to survive under less-than-ideal circumstances, the principle is worth remembering.
Because when the worst happens, it's not about having what we need -- it's about using what we have. The mission doesn't change. Survive.
