Putting a Capp on comics

I'll conclude my peek at government comics with two on Civil Defense.




The FCDA tapped cartoonist Al Capp to draw Mr. Civil Defense Tells About Natural Disasters! (1956) and Operation Survival! (1957). Capp's well-known "Li'l Abner" shows up on both covers, but only as bait -- the stories inside unfold in locales other than Dogpatch, populated by amusingly stereotypical 1950s characters.

These taxpayer-funded 'toons are intriguing slices of the early Cold War years. From our present-day perch they're naive, perhaps, but I find their simplism entertaining and, in a way, quite instructive.

As I've said, "The older I get, the simpler I like it."

Bugging: A new primer from WLC

I shared one of Kevin Estela's helpful PowerPoints back in 2009; his name also came up in "On 'false gods'" a week ago. Now I'm pleased to pass along another of his Wilderness Learning Center presentations -- enjoy and learn.

View all presentations from Kevin Estela on slideshare.

Been there? Done that?

"Son, act like you've been there before." (Paul Brown, legendary football coach, to a player who had danced in the end zone after scoring a touchdown)

It's been almost a year since I was reminded that I live among hamsters, that rainy morning when flash flooding exposed many of my neighbors as totally clueless about their surroundings.

They didn't have the knowledge, experience or attitude to confront unfamiliar circumstances -- because they hadn't been there before.

That's inexcusable. There's no reason not to expect the unexpected because, sooner or later, trouble of some sort will find us.

A major traffic accident or a chemical spill will close the freeway. The power will go out some summer evening. An ice storm will leave us without heat for hours, or even days, in the dead of winter.

Traffic jams and weather events might well be on our personal radar, but sometimes the threat is greater and the stakes are higher -- much higher. An intruder will invade our home in the night. We'll suffer an injury at a place or time when medical help isn't available.

And at the risk of sounding like a tin-hatter here, consider this: A natural disaster will hit or civil unrest will boil over when we're miles from home. Could we defend ourselves? Find water and shelter? Build a fire? With or without a vehicle, could we get home?

For a graphic description of such a scenario, see "Cold, cold water."

Dealing effectively with these and other what-ifs depends largely on mindset. The biggest mistake we make, I think, is believing that we can wait 'til the last minute to conjure our must-do SHTF attitude.

Put another way, we can't "act like we've been there" if we've never even been close.

Whether we like it or not, personal preparedness is a full-time job. Fundamental to success -- and survival -- is actively and continually cultivating a working familiarity with tools, skills and surroundings.

It can start with something as ridiculously simple as spending time each day living in the dark. (No kidding.) There's nothing wrong with switching on a light, of course, but how often do we do that out of habit rather than need? By being aware of my using artificial light unnecessarily, I've seen how often I can do without it -- which, as it turns out, is most of the time.

My practice has given me confidence and familiarity (as well as night vision) that come in handy every time the power winks out. Obviously, keeping everything in its place helps. I mean, there's nothing quite as pathetic as needing a flashlight to find the candles -- or the batteries.

Our electric bills are a bit lower, too.

The time may come when embarrassment and utility bills would be the least of my concerns. If an armed intruder were to threaten my family and me in the middle of the night, I can lay my hands on everything I might need -- phone, eyeglasses, defensive weapon, etc. -- in ten seconds or less.

I know that for a fact because I do low-light, dry-fire drills at least once a week. Practice, promise.

When the fuel gauge on our vehicle starts approaching E and we're not sure when we'll see the next gas station, we start driving much more conservatively. We've all done it, trying to squeeze as much mileage as possible out of those last precious fumes in the tank.

The question is, what could we learn by driving that way -- on purpose -- more often? Or all the time? If the SHTF and we're stuck 25 miles from where we want to be with only enough gas to go 20 miles, maybe we could actually get there. Through practice, we stand a good chance of replacing "maybe" with "probably."

In eight months with my Chevy TrailBlazer, I've managed to increase overall fuel efficiency by 20% just by changing the way I drive. I wasn't a maniac to begin with, by the way, nor do I now pose a rolling hazard to my fellow motorists. The bottom line is that it is possible.

Firesteels and knives are essential survival tools, and a handgun can be an effective means of personal defense. Even the best tools are useless, however, if we don't practice with them long before our life depends on the outcome.

Building a fire in a Weber or backyard pit with only found materials, and then lighting it with a firesteel, hones what could be a lifesaving skill. An acquaintance likes to do it while being showered by a lawn sprinkler, to simulate doing it in the rain -- now that's an attitude.

The folding knife in our pocket or the fixed blade we carry in our last-ditch kit someday may be called upon to fashion an emergency shelter, a splint or a deadfall trap. Using those knives for ordinary lawn-and-garden chores, leaving fancy saws and pruners in the shed, can show us what can be done long before it must be done. The experience, albeit ordinary, can prove invaluable.

As for firearms, once again I defer to Col. Jeff Cooper:

"You are no more armed because you own a gun than you are a musician because you own a piano. The instrument is not the answer; the skill to use the instrument is the answer."

Rust is lethal. Get to the range, dammit. 'Nuff said.

There's much more, of course, but I believe I've begun to make the point that being prepared for the unexpected involves more than a full pantry, fresh batteries and a well-stocked bug-out bag. Since circumstances could turn against us any day, preparedness is a mindset we must live every day.

That's not paranoia -- it's only common sense.

Bugging: Now what?

One crisp morning many years ago, I was clambering about the scree above Glacier National Park's Lunch Creek Basin. Scanning the steep slopes, I spotted my photographic quarry -- an adult mountain goat and a pair of kids, perched impossibly on the side of a cliff.

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

Interesting, isn't it, that there's no mention of gear? That's because having the ultimate stuff in a bag is a whole lot less important than having the right stuff between the ears.

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.

Bugging: Bag it

Without question, the most important tool in any survival situation is the brain -- and fortunately for most of us, it comes permanently attached in its own handy carrying case. Sooner or later, however, we come to understand that preparedness also involves other tools and supplies, and that means finding a way to carry stuff.

Yesterday's post suggested a model for a family-size bug-out box, something that would be hauled in a vehicle. This installment will deal with the personal, more portable bug-out bag.

Besides being durable and comfortable to carry, a bug-out bag needs to allow quick and convenient access to its contents -- I'm talking about a smart layout of pockets and compartments. And ideally, whatever its size, a bug-out bag will be big enough to accommodate:

• Water, or the ability to gather & purify water
• Food, or the ability to gather & prepare food
• Shelter & warmth, or the ability to create shelter & warmth
• Tools
• First aid & medical
• Communications
• Defense

It's possible, of course, to carry the bare essentials in something as small as an Altoids tin, and I have several personal kits packed into wide-mouth Nalgene bottles and small belt packs. A big fanny pack, like my well-traveled North Face model, is another good choice for toting a kit.

I'd like to offer a few more options -- three bags that work, in different ways, for me.

Maxpedition Jumbo Versipack
With carrying capacity equivalent to a large fanny pack, the Maxpedition Jumbo Versipack (retail $89) is a cross-torso shoulder-slung design. It's stout, water-resistant and offers plenty of zippered pockets accessible without opening the 216-cubic-inch main compartment.

One of the things that sets this bag apart is a clever "slip compartment" that rides next to the body, designed to conceal a firearm for quick strong-side draw or weak-side cross-draw. I suggest adding the simple and inexpensive Maxpedition Universal CCW Holster for the sake of safety and consistency, and then practicing with the arrangement.

(If you need a refresher on why armed personal defense should be a preparedness consideration, please go back and read "Cold, cold water.")

The Jumbo Versipack is the kind of bag I can pack with bug-out (or bug-home) essentials and leave in the trunk of my car, but it's friendly enough to use as an every-day "man bag." (Sorry.) It's a certified winner, and when funds allow, I intend to make the Jumbo Versipack the standard grab'n'go pack for each member of my family.

'Cheaper Than Dirt' MOLLE Backpack
Some of us remember Karl Malden saying, "Don't leave home without it," and took the suggestion maybe a bit too seriously.

Well, fellow packrats, rejoice -- the MOLLE Assault Backpack (retail $50) from Cheaper Than Dirt was made for us.

("MOLLE," by the way, stands for "Modular Lightweight Load-carrying Equipment.")

Is this the highest-quality backpack available? No, not even close -- but as a high-capacity, pack-it-and-forget-it bag, it might be the best value I've seen. It's respectably well-made and features a dizzying array of pockets and compartments. The grid of PALS (Pouch Attachment Ladder System) webbing on the pack's exterior means that it can be tailored to individual needs with add-on pouches, even a hydration carrier.

For me, the bug-out role of a fully stocked CTD MOLLE Assault Backpack would be to support an overland trek from our shelter-in-place base. I'd also be inclined to toss it in the trunk of my car before heading out for longer than a day, especially during the winter months.

Maratac Briefcase
When the SHTF, some of us we won't be bugging out, and we won't be bugging home. We'll be bugging to work.

Law-enforcement, emergency-management and disaster-relief personnel have entirely different requirements in a bag. It might need to carry "bail-out" tactical gear, maps and grid schematics, a notebook computer or a mobile-communications setup. For those and similar roles, the Maratac "Force Multiplier Bag" (retail $69) from CountyComm would be a worthy choice.

Fundamentally, the Maratac is an oversize, overbuilt fabric briefcase with typical briefcase features. Three of the outside panels are covered in PALS webbing, accommodating a range of modular pouches. The interior is fitted with a stiff divider, covered in loop (as in hook-and-loop, or Velcro®) material that allows flexible placement of, for example, a concealed firearm and magazines.

The wide, padded shoulder strap doesn't make the Maratac a candidate for wilderness travel, but for its intended purpose, it definitely fills the bill.

Bugging: ShelterBox

Whether it's family preparedness, personal defense or other tasks, I'm a big fan of "modeling" -- looking for good ideas and then applying or adapting them to whatever I'm trying to accomplish. It's an approach that ends the search for a single answer, in favor of assimilating a range of wisdom into a custom solution.

On the subject of preparedness, there's no shortage of information and advice on the WWWeb. Despite that, I've noticed that some folks have trouble putting together a compact, portable store of disaster supplies.

For anyone intimidated by the prospect of assembling a family bug-out kit, I suggest modeling something called a ShelterBox.

The concept was developed by a Rotarian and former Royal Navy search-and-rescue diver as a way to deliver essential materials (sans food and water) to victims of disasters around the globe. Now an international charity funded through donations, the ShelterBox organization has become one of the most effective aid agencies in the world.

A ShelterBox, which serves up to ten people, comprises:

• One 49-gallon box, the delivery container; later, it can be used to store water, food, etc.
• One ten-person tent.
• Ten insulated vinyl sleeping mats & lightweight thermal blankets.
• Ten envelope-type sleeping bags.
• 180 water-purification tablets (enough for up to three months).
• One collapsible 5-gallon water container & two collapsible 2.1-gallon water carriers.
• Collapsible trenching shovel.
• 164 feet of rope.
• Repellent-treated mosquito netting.
• Ten PVC ponchos.
• Tools (hatchet, knife, screwdriver, hammer, pliers, saw, hoe head, etc.).
• Multi-fuel stove.
• Cookware, dinnerware & utensils.
• Children's activity kit (simple school supplies, stickers & coloring book).

Even though a ShelterBox doesn't include necessary consumables, look at it as a model -- and then try to tell me it's impossible to assemble an all-inclusive, 72-hour family bug-out kit because it won't fit in an SUV or sedan.

I contend that a typical American family of four could gather materials equivalent to a ShelterBox, plus provisions for food, first aid and defense, into the same space or less, packing sufficient water separately. It's easy, really.

(If at this point you're wondering if the ShelterBox people will sell you one of these kits already assembled, you've completely missed the point. You're probably prime refugee material, and you should find another blog to read.)

September's eve

August has been a chunky month. As it comes to a close, a few thoughts.

Gustav gusting
My wife once lived on Louisiana's Gulf Coast. It's no surprise, then, that she's been keeping a close eye on Hurricane Gustav and exchanging e-mails with friends in New Orleans and Houston.

Like most Americans, I lack Mrs. KintlaLake's personal connection to this imminent natural disaster, so I've been watching local, state and federal attempts to avoid repeating Katrina mistakes. I've also noticed some residents' inflated sense of entitlement to government aid in preparing for and evacuating from the storm.

Some of us remember one particularly disturbing after-effect of Katrina -- the City of New Orleans seizing more than a thousand firearms from law-abiding citizens, guns that weren't part of any criminal investigation.

The city's reckless violation of Second Amendment rights left these citizens unarmed in the face of roving gangs, home invaders and other criminals. The National Rifle Association has filed a lawsuit against Mayor Ray Nagin and Police Superintendent Warren Riley.

As compassionate Americans, we hold the residents of the Gulf Coast in our hearts as Gustav approaches.

To Mayor Nagin and Supt. Riley: We'll be watching.

Sarah Palin
In the interest of fairness, I haven't yet seen how well Gov. Palin handles the pressure-cooker that is national politics. Fortunately for her, she has 65 days to show us what she's got -- besides her gender, ultra-conservative ideology and featherweight résumé, anyway. Unfortunately for those of us who like to apply independent critical thought to such things, 65 days probably isn't enough time.

Let's be honest about one thing, though -- viewing Sen. John McCain's choice of Gov. Palin as anything but a fourth-quarter "hail Mary" at this point is symptomatic of a serious Kool-Aid overdose.

Republican convention
For obvious reasons, the "disunity" angle was all the buzz during last week's Democratic convention. Republicans, set to meet this week, have their own problems, of course.

Sen. McCain, whose support among humorless conservatives had been hanging by the proverbial thread, apparently reinforced the tether by selecting Gov. Palin. Thing is, his choice exposed another fracture: "scorecard conservatives" vs. rank-and-file Republicans.

The former, litmus paper in-hand, labor under the delusion that they can win elections all by themselves. The latter know that a pristine conservative ticket has virtually no chance of succeeding, so they forgo right-wing idealism in favor of a relatively conservative alternative -- and a shot at a Republican win in November.

At the other political extreme, pure liberal ideology doesn't suffer from conservatives' delusion -- it's the difference between exclusivity (conservative) and inclusion (liberal). Big-tent liberal ideology dilutes identity, however, something that today's sheepish electorate craves. As a result, inclusion is a strategy that doesn't reliably deliver election-day wins -- even when it should.

In any case, this week's Republican convention has potential for true drama and divisiveness, albeit with better haircuts, real diamonds, more expensive suits and probably less weeping.

Pander-off
I despise watching politicians suck up to voters -- unless they're sucking up to me, that is.

After announcing their engagement in Dayton on Friday, Sen. McCain and Gov. Palin dropped by the Buckeye Corner on Lane Avenue in Columbus. He bought an armload of Buckeye shirts and other trinkets, and she bought an Ohio State cheerleader outfit for her young daughter.

Isn’t that just precious? Score!

Late yesterday, the Obama-Biden ticket held a rally in the Columbus suburb of Dublin -- wisely, well after Ohio State's game with Youngstown State. After congratulating the Buckeyes on their 43-0 victory, Sen. Barack Obama shouted into the microphone, "O-H!"

Immediately, 19,000 voices responded as one, "I-O!" The antiphonal chant between candidate and crowd was repeated twice more.

In these parts, you can win a lot of votes by pandering to OSU fans, but anyone can swipe a credit card. It takes a professional suckup to lead a cheer.

Advantage: Obama.

Shakeup call

As SoCal earthquakes go, yesterday's magnitude 5.4 temblor was something of a yawner.

Swimming pools churned for a few seconds. Some stores' shelves emptied themselves. Water gushed from a couple of broken L.A. mains and from a ceiling at LAX. Reportedly, there were few injuries.

Ok, so it was the strongest quake in 15 years, and 80-plus aftershocks (most of which are noticed only by seismologists) might be a bit unsettling. Judging by the media's breathless coverage, however, you'd think it was The Big One.

Maybe they're just practicing.

Beyond natural human compassion and understandable political wariness, most of us don't really care what happens "out there" in the People's Republic of California. Earthquakes, wildfires and mudslides, competitive rehab, puzzling legislation and restrictive regulations -- it's just more TV. Self-absorbed Californians might want us to care, but for the most part, we're not even curious.

I know I'm not.

One things I do care about is personal preparedness. On that subject, the media's over-the-top coverage of the Chino Hills quake did yield an interesting nugget, in the form of a CNN.com "Quick Vote":


According to that unscientific snapshot, fewer than one out of four respondents is prepared for the worst. I'd be willing to bet that a statistically sound sampling would show that the real number is no higher than 10%, probably lower.

If you've prepared, as my family and I have, great -- but contentment is the last thing we should be feeling right now. Answering the wake-up call implicit in the poll above, or in my more pessimistic prediction, we'll see that virtually all of our neighbors will do one of four things in the event of a disaster:

• They'll suffer alone, unaided and unprepared;
• They'll rely on non-profit or government agencies;
• They'll try to share in what we have; or
• They'll try to take what we have.

Stockpiling food, water and supplies isn't enough. We must be ready and willing to protect and, if necessary, defend ourselves and our families from those who haven't prepared.

With that harsh reality in mind, answer the question again: Are you prepared?

Meet the hamsters

Bugging, Part II included a list of natural and man-made hazards that could affect our home. I characterized flooding to be of "moderate risk in the surrounding area; negligible risk to my home."

Last night into this morning, Nature dumped five inches of rain on us, so we got to find out just how accurate FEMA's flood maps are.

Pretty damned accurate, as it turns out, with the exception of one rural road that saw some unexpected flash flooding, probably due to runoff from a large housing development built after the maps were created.

Our home stayed high and dry, but the road in front of us was a different story. A half-mile south, four feet of water made it impassable; the situation a quarter-mile north was no better. The only possible passable outlet was through the housing development to our west.

I volunteered to scout a dry commuting route for my wife while she readied herself for work. While I was out, I paused in several places to photograph the floodwaters. One after another, passing drivers stopped to ask me the same question:

"How do I get out of here?"

I didn't mind being helpful -- that's what neighbors do. No, what struck me was these folks' apparent cluelessness about the basic layout and topography of the very neighborhood in which they live.

Some were merely befuddled, while others bordered on panic -- one practically begged me to get into my car and lead her to safety. These people were just commuting to work, for cryin' out loud, and I found myself wondering how they'd fare if they were actually required to evacuate.

Perish the thought.

Such naiveté shouldn't surprise us, really. Most Americans live like hamsters, spinning on the Habitrail of our daily rituals, perilously ignorant of what exists outside our neat little cages. As long as we get food, water and fresh bedding, we just keep spinning.

Until something upsets our rituals, that is -- even something as absurdly simple as high water that blocks our familiar route to work.

Tonight brings both good and bad news. The good news is that the floodwaters have receded and all of the local roads are passable.

The bad news? It's raining again -- hard.

Here we go again...

Cold, cold water

In an earlier series of posts, I wrote about my family's approach to "bugging" -- by no means gospel, not even a primer, simply a humble and personal description of what we do.

Preparedness accounts for security, survival and defense "when the worst happens." Some call that SHTF, others TEOTWAWKI -- whatever the label, the scenario or the scale, "the worst" involves clear and present threats to our survival.

Preparedness is neither a game nor an obsession -- it's a mindset. It's an attitude that allows us to live our everyday lives, yet be ready to confront and dispatch threats when they present themselves.

On the last page of the June issue of S.W.A.T. magazine is a column by Louis Awerbuck, one of the nation's top instructors in gunhandling, marksmanship and tactics. Entitled "Welcome to the Jungle," it delivers a blunt and sobering perspective on surviving a "doomsday scenario."

The column concludes:

"No, you don't have to be Mad Max, Rambo, or paranoid. But it would be nice, for example, for those of you who have families, if you could make your way back home to protect your spouse and ankle-biters when that never-going-to-happen disaster hits. The first of the loot-shoot-scoot brigade will deploy immediately after a disaster, looking for an easy mark. Those who have nothing to lose will be ready to take, and the sooner they start, the more they can take.

"Traffic will be snarled within 15 minutes and there will be no emergency response units available to solve your little problems -- so you'll have to do it all by your lonesome -- and on foot. And even if you find a desirable route, perhaps you've forgotten about that gun thingummybob I mentioned earlier. One teensy-weensy bullet through your head and I now own your Hummer and everything in it -- including your address. You know -- that place where your widow and kids are waiting. Sorry about that, but survival of the fittest and all that good stuff, don't you know.

"Remember the Los Angeles riots, post-Katrina New Orleans, or New York during the infamous eight-hour Con-Ed blackout? The shooters and looters were at work within the first hour.

"Now decide if you want to be the chef or the entree, because the Hell Restaurant is open for business, and only the man with the carving knife and the full belly is walking out alive."

As raw as Mr. Awerbuck's words may be, don't recoil from them and, whatever you do, don't dismiss them. Let them sink in.

Our society, in the midst of a crisis, operates exactly as he describes. Arguments to the contrary are pure fantasy.

Is he giving us a do-or-die choice? Absolutely -- the stark picture he paints is as accurate as it is disturbing.

It's a bucket of ice water in our faces, leaving us with but one responsible course of action.

Prepare now.

Bugging, Part III: In or Out?

Should I stay or should I go now?
Should I stay or should I go now?
If I go there will be trouble
And if I stay it will be double
So come on and let me know
Should I stay or should I go? (The Clash)

Many of us consider evacuation more likely than it actually is.

Outside of the geographic areas that regularly deal with floods, wildfires, hurricanes and other natural hazards, in most crises the vast majority of Americans should stay put, at least in the short term.

Whatever the crisis, whether my family stays or goes, our over-riding concern will be our own safety, survival and defense. Those considerations -- not sentiment or the well-meaning advice of public officials -- will drive our decisions.

What's more, altruism and benevolence have no place in our plan. Sound selfish? You bet it is -- becoming a charity during a serious crisis is akin to committing suicide.

Let the prepared survive.

Stocked for Survival
Naturally, our home holds the largest stores of what we'd need to survive for an extended period:

• Water, or the ability to gather & purify water
• Food, or the ability to gather & prepare food
• Shelter & warmth, or the ability to find shelter & create warmth
• Tools
• First aid & medical
• Communications
• Defense

I won't include a detailed checklist here -- that's not really the point of this installment, and besides, each of us has different needs -- but I do suggest taking full advantage of the WWWeb. Among the resources we've found useful:

• Ready.gov
• FEMA
• American Red Cross
• PandemicFlu.gov
• State, county & municipal homeland-security & emergency-management agencies
• Preparedness & survival forums
• Survival books
• Military field manuals

We prefer to download Adobe Acrobat (*.pdf) files whenever possible, saving them for later reference offline.

There's No Place Like Home
Where we live, there are few reasons that my family and I would need to "bug out." As described in Part II, we've researched hazards and threats, and we've concluded that our best shelter and most defensible position is right here -- what's known as shelter-in-place.

Safety, survival and defense become more difficult while on the move and, ideally, most everything is simpler in familiar surroundings -- by itself, that's reason enough to shelter-in-place. In addition, our home is well-equipped and well-stocked, and yes, we know what it can provide, but we've gone beyond everyday familiarity and stockpiling.

Within a two-mile radius of our home, for example, we know where natural water supplies are located. (We're mindful, of course, that surface water may not be an option under some circumstances.) In the same area, we know where we can forage for edible plants and hunt game. We've practiced small-scale sustenance gardening, with the goal of expanding it if the need arises. And since the nature of home defense changes during a prolonged crisis, we've created a precise map of the perimeter around our home, out to 600 yards.

The last point I'll make is the need, in my opinion, to keep a low profile. Since most people won't be adequately prepared for a crisis, the quickest way for a prepared family to become a target family would be to shelter-in-place with generator whirring, house lights aglow, and gas-fired grill sizzling on the deck -- dumb and dangerous.

Time to Go

"Fixed fortifications are monuments to the stupidity of man." (Gen. George S. Patton)

A stay-or-go "pivot point" may present itself at the outset of a crisis, or something may force our hand later, or it may not happen at all.

If we do choose to leave our home behind, we'll make that decision because it's in the best interest of our family's safety, survival and defense. We won't leave because everyone around us is leaving, and we won't stay for sentimental reasons.

That said, we've prepared for two bug-out scenarios: Light (one or two people) and Full (family).

Our grab-and-go packs are subsets of our shelter-in-place stores. Each member of our family has ultra-minimalist kit for a light evacuation. Obviously and necessarily, we'd tote more in a full bug-out. Again, our supplies include provisions for water, food, shelter, etc.

We've mapped primary and contingency routes, rendezvous sites and retreat locales, along with potential hazards and threats -- a calculated bug-out, if you will, not a random dash. Our destinations do not include public shelters -- we refuse, categorically, to join the masses of refugees who chose not to prepare.

Note that I haven't mentioned the word "evacuation" to describe my family's plans. We prefer to call it "bug-out" or "retreat," because we have our own routes and destinations. Despite the fact that we may be putting distance between ourselves and a threat or a hazard, we'd be moving toward something, not merely running away.

Bugging home
Finally, here's an often-ignored piece of the preparedness puzzle: the virtual certainty that our family won't be conveniently assembled when the SHTF. I may be at home, my wife at work, the spawns at school.

That's when preparedness planning becomes especially crucial. Everyone must know the plan and execute their responsibilities -- no freelancing. My wife will bug home if she can; ideally, she'll pick up the spawns on her way. If it's apparent that shelter-in-place is impossible and a bug-out is called for, the drill is to follow the primary route and try to assemble at established checkpoints.

And so on.

Of course, as countless military leaders have observed, "No plan survives first contact with the enemy."

Still, whether we stay or go, we're glad that we have a plan.

We hope we never have to use it.


Bugging, Part I: Securing the Castle
Bugging, Part II: My Tin Hat
Bugging, Part IV: The Right Stuff

Bugging, Part II: My Tin Hat

A few weeks ago, my older spawn presented me with my very own tinfoil hat.

Okay, I do spend a fair amount of time preparing myself and my family to survive under less-than-ideal circumstances. That's because I believe that the future, whatever it looks like, will belong to those who prepare -- not out of unchecked cynicism, but with a firm grip on the risks present in today's world.

Some among us are obsessed with Red Dawn scenarios, SHTF, TEOTWAWKI and the like. I don't (and won't) belittle those folks -- in fact, I've learned a lot from their approach to preparedness. I've just attacked it a bit differently.

The Mindset
Everyday life has a set of rules and resources dictated by personal obligations and societal norms. My fundamental responsibility is to function and prosper in that context.

For me, preparation happens within the context of everyday life, not at its expense -- that is, I don't live each day as if it's TEOTWAWKI, but I know what I need to do to prepare and survive.

I live my life, taking advantage of its opportunities, neither paranoid nor naive.

The Lay of the Land
It's tempting (and typical) to begin the preparedness process with a shopping list and an evacuation route, ignoring what I believe is the first and most important step: assessing risk.

So, with the invaluable aid of Google and Microsoft Streets & Trips, I've plotted relevant risks, hazards and resources.

What could possibly threaten my peaceful rural-suburban home in the Midwest? In terms of natural hazards:

• Tsunami: No risk.
• Hurricane: No risk.
• Wildfire: Negligible risk.
• Earthquake: Negligible risk.
• Landslide: No risk.
• Tornado: Moderate risk.
• Flood: Moderate risk in the surrounding area; negligible risk to my home.

That list is obvious and straightforward. Now, what man-made characteristics could pose a risk?

• Rail: Two active freight lines pass through the 10-mile radius around my home, running a total of 42 miles in length, with one coming as close as 1.25 miles and the other 2 miles away. Also, there's a major rail yard 10 miles WNW.
• Airports: A major airport lies 10 miles NW, and another is 10 miles WSW; the latter is the preferred arrival-and-departure point for high-ranking government officials and other dignitaries, since it shares facilities with an Air National Guard base. There's also a small airport 10 miles SE.
• Power plants, nuclear: None within 150 miles.
• Power plants, coal: One, 15 miles WSW.
• Utility transmission, electricity: One 345kV+ high-tension run passes within 1.5 miles.
• Utility transmission, natural gas: One large transmission line passes within a half-mile of my home; a major pipeline passes 45 miles SE.
• Municipal water supplies: Three well-sites within 5 miles; five water-storage towers within 5 miles.
• Biohazards: A sewage-treatment facility 0.5mi N.
• Radiation hazards: None within 25 miles; numerous nuclear pharmacies and two NRC-regulated sites within 35 miles.
• Military: An Air National Guard base 10 miles WSW, and a major national-defense supply depot 10 miles NW. Numerous bases, installations and armories within 50 miles.
• Other: After a local televangelist recently called for the destruction of Islam, his statements appeared widely in the Arab media. His church's two large facilities are 1.5 miles and 3.5 miles NW of my home.

I'm willing to bet that most of my neighbors are largely unaware of what surrounds us. Most people either don't care or don't take the time to find out.

For example, there's a major NSA listening post nestled deep in the West Virginia mountains, and yet most of the locals (like most Americans) remain blissfully ignorant -- a common mistake and, in my opinion, a dangerous one. I do my best to avoid making it.

Finally, I've identified various emergency-assistance resources in close proximity to my home, keeping in mind that some of these services (or all of them) may be unavailable in an emergency situation:

• Tornado sirens: Two within 5 miles, with the closest 1.5 miles away.
• Fire/EMS: Five stations within 5 miles, with the closest 2 miles' travel.
• Law enforcement: Four stations within 5 miles, with the closest 2 miles' travel.
• Medical: The closest hospital is 10 miles' travel; there are two urgent-care clinics, three medical-arts facilities and at least six pharmacies within 5 miles.
• Food & provisions: Within a 5-mile radius are three large groceries, five mass-merchandisers and ten convenience stores. There are three produce farms within 10 miles.
• Defense: Three mass-merchandisers, both within 5 miles, sell ammunition; there are three FFL retailers within 10 miles, with the closest 5 miles away.
• Fuel: More than a dozen gas stations and five propane stations within 5 miles.

All of this information, taken together and especially in the face of a present danger, helps form the basis for every preparedness-and-survival decision that follows.

Bugging, Part I: Securing the Castle
Bugging, Part III: In or Out?
Bugging, Part IV: The Right Stuff