Fortune and Favor

I see you are a wild thing,
free to run, roam, and fly,
A traveling ghost with a quiet way,
Never asking why.   
... S.E.Cook

Perhaps one of the most wonderful things has happened since the end of our civilization. Since the weather turned a little warmer a few days ago, we chose to remain a while in this wild and desolate land known as the Wind River Range. We always send out riders to scout our backtrail, watch for signs of game, or pursuit. Today, Reese, and John returned with four people I knew well. My father, mother, aunt & uncle. My eyes not beleiving what my heart already knew, I could only stare for time in disbeleif. Dismounting and handing off the reins, I saw mom, the jaunty stroll I knew so well, the smile, and little wave so natural to me as the wind. My father, a little sore from riding, but still the same strength, and economy of motion so easily recognizable. It was them. All mom said was "glad to see ya". There were no words between Dad and I, the twinkle in his eye, the pleased smile, and warm embrace saying all that was needed.  Now I must explain.
When the end came,  Mom and Dad had been in Las Vegas, on a vacation. At the end of things some terror group had used the event to create havoc.  A Pocket nuke had exploded in Vegas and in 14 other cities across the U.S. We assumed they had died in the attack. Hearing of the bad times, mom, dad, and mom's sister Kay, and husband Daniel, decided to visit Laughlin, and were between cities when the attack came. Knowing all that was to come, and with a full tank of gas in his pickup like dad always did at bad times, they headed for the wild country, found backroads around the main cities and headed for home. Hondo valley was on thier way home.  Realizing that most ranch houses would have all the latest news, and knowing it was one of our run points, they had stopped and talked to a rancher. As fate would have it, the same one we traded gun for horses with. Never having an AR-15 before, the gun had jammed, and dad being the builder of the gun, fixed it for him, our names came up in the conversation, and the rancher being extremely grateful, traded dad's pickup, and the 20 gallons of now very expensive gas, for horses, saddles, and supplies. Though you may never see it, dad always has a gun close. My Uncle Dan is no exception. This time dad had his Beretta with him, and Dan his WW11 vintage P-38. From here it was no big trick to guess which way we had gone. North, just like we told the rancher we were doing, and it was only logical to follow the national trails. Seeing the same things we had, they came upon the traffic jam we had passed by, except dad and Dan seeing the opportunity. Dad came away with a 223 bolt action carbine, and a couple of hundred rounds, while Dan found a Taurus "JUDGE" and several boxes of ammo, and a 30-06 Remington 700.
I learned my woodcraft from my father, and knowing my natural caution, it was easy for him to follow me. Dad is cautious too, and at Riverton, he saw what we had seen, and avoided it. Now, they were here. Thanks to the powers that be.
Earlier tonight around the campfire, with our entire family there, except for a few, we drank coffee, ate, and talked long into the night, there was no need to post guards, this party would last till morning.  It was around three A.M. when all the stories had been told, all the memories relived, My sister Ann even telling on herself a few times, and eventually the fire burned low, everyone else having turned in except dad and I. "you did good getting everyone here" dad said. "I had a good teacher" I told him. There again the secret smile that means understanding, that can only come between father and son. "good night dad".
Fortune favors the bold,
nature loves the wild at heart,
and love guides the quiet spirit.

giggles and gumdrops

There is much to tell.
We left the Medicine Bow, after having to do defend our supplies, and followed the Platte River north. A couple of days hard ride, we came across what had once been a big resevoir. the dam had been destroyed in some manner, and the rushing water had found a new path, making a  lake in a flat area to the west. Although it was no good for drinking, still being too muddy and full of debris, we were able to wash a few clothes, and have a good place to camp.
later: a days ride to the north, we found the reason for the first destroyed dam. a dam upriver had been blown up. It was obvious. It explains alot. Why the river downstream had been muddy, and so full of debris. The water was running faster here so we were able to gather badly needed drinking water, and having all clean clothes, and watered horses rested, and fed, we turned northwest.
Three days brought us to the west of what I think is the city of Riverton. There seemed to be some trade there, but upon closer examination, we saw several travelers attacked, and robbed after leaving the town proper, and their goods promptly returned to the market along with the survivors of the attack, in chains. Slavers. So it has started. The scum of humankind making their play. We quietly left the area, and headed to the west and one of the most beautiful places on the planet. The Wind River Canyon. We did not enter the canyon itself, appearing to me to be a good place for a trap, but followed a little way off. Earlier today,  myself, Scott, and John, went to the river for water. John decided to try a little fishing while Scott and I filled containers. A short time had passed when we saw John smiling, and pulling in another fish. In only two hours, John had caught enough fish for the entire party to have all we wanted. I never asked what he used, or how, being much too grateful that he had. Tonight around the fire, with the Wind River Range above us, the smell of frying fish made us all hungry beyond reason, and we ate with all the gusto of barbarian kings. The water from the river was cold and clean. There is a chill in the air, and above us all the stars in the sky twinkle and shine.  It seems to me the death, and destruction in the world has not touched this place. There is no sadness here, just a wild and desolate land that seems to have changed little in hundreds of years. I will never forget the look of satisfaction on John's face as each member thanked him while we gorged ourselves on River Trout. He just nodded, and took another bite of fish. He is happier than I have seen him in many years. Abby is quite obviously very proud of him, and tonight everyone is at peace.

The Hunger

I have heard it said, when the belly speaks, the conscience becomes blind, deaf, and dumb. Two nights ago, Reese, on guard duty, was sure he heard prowlers around our camp. At a prearranged sign, he tossed a rock at my tent, and I was up and out in a moment. We low crawled around for a while, and saw nothing. Later that day, we had the nagging feeling we were being watched. Just now another  ground tremor, they come and go. Putting John in the lead, Reese and I got off our horses on the down side of a good hill, telling the others to wait for us about a mile on. We saw them, three men, looking rather ragged, and carrying a shotgun, and each a semi auto, running after us.  Staying behind cover, we waited. It was very obvious to us they were trailing us, and waiting for a good opportunity to attack, steal our horses, food, gear, and leaving us for dead. even if all they had in mind was stealing a little food, that is what keeps us alive, and stealing food is a death sentance in this environment. Hunger will drive a man to do many things he would not do otherwise. In the former world, we might have stopped, helped them, or invited them to join us for a meal. In this world it is a luxury we cannot afford. Having no choice, we ambushed them, took what few guns and ammo they had. One guy had six rounds in his gun, and a few extras.  Another was less fortunate. there was only seven rounds for the shotgun, but we took it nonetheless. I am not sorry for what we did, we are saving our own lives. We did not make this world, we are but travelers through it.   Though violence is not the answer to everything, Sometimes, it is the only option. The seperation between man and beast, is knowing the difference. 

authors note-unrelated

We must try to return control of this country to its people. Governments should derive thier power from the consent of the governed. Yet, each generation of elected official gets farther and farther from the oath they take. As each incumbent is re relected they forget more and more of that oath. Voting them all out is the only true solution.
The "new world order" is no threat to us. The NWO is a bogeyman, a straw adversary, a lie perpetrated by those who would benefit from its existance. Just as with any program of disinformation, it a greater lie than the truth.
It is possible that a single act of trying to "kick them all out", will not work. What will work is a slow and steady evolution of thoughts and ideals, designed to return control of this country to its people. It may take 10 years, or a hundred.
Let it begin here, with us. If we continue to spread our message of political reform, and peaceful evolution, one day we will succeed.
He who gives up, engineers his own defeat. He who never gives up, cannot be defeated.

wyoming

We have finally reached Wyoming. The first thing we saw this morning was a trail sign that read "Medicine Bow National Forest. Colorado was long and difficult,  and being past it is an accomplishment, so we celebrated. though it was only mid morning, we opened the medicinal whiskey, and had a snort to celebrate being out of Colorado. My sisters eldest son, Riley, now considered an adult, stepped up to drink his snort, and with bravery and daring, drank it all in one gulp. I have never seen a young man turn so many shades of red and green, while still trying to appear cool, but he did. After several minutes of color changing, and coughing, a few half hearted attempts to remain cool, he manged to choke out a sort of snuffled "good", and much to his dismay, uproarious laughter from the entire family. Then it was Shawna's turn. She, of course, had just witnessed Riley's experience, and would've been happy to pass were it not for her husband Scott encouraging her. "come on" he said, "it affects different people differently", "you have a strong constitution, it shouldn't affect you like that". She looked to me, her loving father for advice. "daddy?" she queried, "is it gonna burn me?" "oh yeah" I told her "its gonna hurt". "no" Scott said "it won't do you like that, everybody else did, are you wimping out?" Gathering her courage, she took a big swallow and reacted worse than Riley  had. Much to the cackle of laughter from Scott. After chasing him around the clearing for a few minutes, she finally tackled him and proceeded to releive him of his shoes, and pants. He was laughing to hard to protest and she ran away with the offenders pants, and filled with them with grass, twigs, dirt, anything she could find, and tossed them back to him with a cavalier smile, and a jaunty accent,saying "your pants sire". Shawna can be very determined at times. It was a good day.

The lights

It is nighttime, and we have chosen to spend a few days where we are. We are in a small clearing in the middle of a large open space between the mountains. Much like the horses I am skittish. I worry about us, our food supply, our safety, our very future. A little while ago, the family gravitated to the fire, just to watch the show the sky was putting on for us. I watched them all.The little ones and even their parents had a sense of wander, of awe, and a sense of belonging that created an air of peace that was undeniable. It made me think far into the future, to you, of who you are, and of how this all turned out, and I realized for the first time  my place in the world. It is here, in this clearing, under these lights, and yes feeling these tremors. It is my calling to lead my family into the future, to the distant horizon. I looked to the sky, not to cringe in fear, but to appreciate what was there, a glorious kaeidoscope of color, formed against all the stars in the heavens, held the hand of Rose, my beloved wife, glanced at my family, and for tonight, I am at peace.  Come what may, we will survive.  

A Change in the Air

Something terrible happened today. It has been four days since being snowed in, and we are in far northern Colorado. All day the horses were skittish. Twice we felt ground tremors. Last night we saw a both beautiful, and terrible sight. The Northern Lights. Though they are a true wonder to behold, they are not supposed to be visible in this area. This morning we found dead birds all over. I am unsure what has occured, but the two events together can be only an omen of things to come.
this afternoon we saw an avalanche of snow cascading from a high mountain not from from us.  Of  course it spooked the horses, and they almost bolted.  Tonight, again,  we see the Northern lights, and the horses will not settle down. They know something is wrong.  Just now another ground tremor. Will have to be extra careful in all we do now. I can hear the kids crying, they are scared. I wonder if the panic that started the EOW was in someway a result of the "herd instinct" we humans were feeling, as the result of some great cataclysm yet to come.  Maybe the snow of a few days ago was due to changing weather patterns brought on by this new global event. The kids are still crying, maybe I can help calm them down, although it is a calm I do not feel.

Snowed in

We are in a valley between three high mountains and for the second day now, have been snowed in. As a matter of survival, we all carry jerky, and water with us. My biggest worry is the horses. When John, who was on guard, woke us with the news of the heavy snow, it took us completely by surprise. The snow is chest high, in only six hours. Had to turn the horses loose.
third day: It has quit snowing during the night, and has gotten a little warmer. Still can't see the horses. Worried.
fourth day: The snow is melting, thank God, and the horses are not here. they must have run off in the snow. Maybe by tomorrow we can try to track them. Had to dig out a place outside the tent for the dogs to you know what.
fifth day: The snow is only knee high this morning. By noon we should be able to look for the horses. Putting out water, and quaker oats hoping they will smell it and come back. Abby says horses are more intelligent than dolphins or whales,  and almost psychic about direction. Still we will look.
night time-fifth day: Found most of the horses. Two perished in the cold, one, an older cutting horse, and a mare who they trained as a barrel racer. We have been lucky, and it is good to be out of the tent.  We will adjust.  The older boys are sleeping outside their tents tonight, and Rose and I are joining them. Tent packed away and sleeping under the stars. Under a clear sky, it is very cold, but all the stars in Heaven watch over us this night.

Our Little Hero

When we left our home in the Lincoln National Forest, we took two little ones with I have failed to mention.  Our dogs. One a miniature gray Poodle, and a yorkie. Belle. To be more correct, Miss Texas Belle, who occupies a position of honor, and safety, riding on the lap of Rose, and mostly sleeping. At times she asserts her independance by sleeping in someone elses tent and curling up at the bottom of one of their sleeping bags, when it gets really cold, she wiggles her way inside the bag, and comfort.
Tonite she was in our tent, and sleeping peacefully, when I heard her growling, and barking at the door of the tent, our poodle, noogie, joined the fray, though still a little unsure. I was up in a moment, and had my rifle. The minute I got the door open, Belle got out, and took off. I didn't know a little dog could run that fast. A large brown bear was sniffing around, trying to decide between the food, or our horses for dinner. It was a bad mistake on his part. He was between me and the horses, so I hestitated to shoot. Belle had no such hesitation. She was aided in her efforts by Noogie, from a rear position. I watched as this small dog, no bigger than a rabbit, ran in barking, snarling, growling, and snapping. The first pass she got a piece of the bears leg, and from there took hunks from various places on the bears body. It quickly became clear to me that the bear was outclassed. As soon as he turned to face this little demon dog, she was already someplace else. Already with another piece of bear in her chops. Noogie had worked up his courage, and worked with Belle, feasting on bear hide. Those two little dogs were getting the best of Mr. Bear, and when he realized that fact, decided to vacate the premises,  chased by a little gray poodle, and the little yorkie deciding she wasn't ready for the bear to go just yet, hanging on by what few teeth she had left.
I hollered for her a few times, and she let go, barked, and snarled her disapproval at the bears sudden departure, and strutted back to her place at the bottom of my bag.
I will not discuss the praise those two little dogs got, or the treats, or petting they got, except to say that everyone in our party understands that "our littlest hero" can sleep anywhere she wants.

The high mountains

It has been one week since sighting the traffic jam. The weather, though cold, has been mild. I took the lead this morning, giving Reese a break, Ann being all the more greatful, giving the four of them a little down time. I broke a cardinal rule this morning, and let my young grandson ride with me on point.  It was no oversight. He is seven years of age, and since the EOW, has grown as wild as the wind above the mountains. He is solid muscle, strong for his age, and has hit his growing spurt just recently. Thank God for the seamstress women in our family.
I let him ride in front of me, telling him I "needed an extra set of eyes".  He has learned his woodcraft with amazing quickness.  Someday he will surpass me, his father, and uncle. It is a great comfort to me to know he is learning so well, and to see this child, blood of my blood, a generation removed, knowing our family is alive in him, and in my granddaughter, who at every camp, is right there with the women of our family, learning, growing and doing all she can to lend a hand. Yesterday, her uncle John came back from hunting with a scratch, and I watched her take a survival kit from her pocket, sit him down, and with the skill of a professional nurse, clean the wound, bandage it, and tell him, "uncle John, you gotta be more careful".  It brought a lump to my throat that didn't want to stay down. 
We sit around the fire, in a clearing, surrounded by the High Rockies. A light snow is falling. My wife rose, a love of many years, is with me, reading over my shoulder, and has a secret look of satisfaction on her face. This journal I keep, was her idea. Someday,  far in the future, our decendants will sit, much like we are tonight, and know how things came to be.  Lifes greatest blessings, sometimes disguised in tragedy, lead us to a brighter future.

The Trail

I can smell it in the air, I can feel the cold coming. In the years following the downfall of society we have been far, my family and I.  What started from a small farming community on the plains of Texas, has led us here. I sit astride a tall American Quarter Horse, followed by my wife, Rose, my 2 daughters, Abby and Shawna, thier husbands, John and Scott. Two grandchildren are riding with thier parents.  By luck and providence my sister Ann and husband Reese and two sons, joined us in the canyon that was once our home.
 We agreed to head north into the mountains to escape the violence that threatened our lives. We follow the old National Trail System riding north, east of what was once Durango Colorado. There was a light snow last night, and though the temperature is only about 41 degrees, I can feel the cold coming. It is strange how things have changed,  we are for all intents and purposes living 400 years in the past, riding through the remnants of a modern civilization. Late yesterday as we went through a high pass, we saw below what remained of a traffic jam that had turned ugly. It was obvious the people had turned on each other and no one had survived. It served to remind me how fortunate we have been, and how planning ahead has saved our lives. Though it has been difficult, we have grown much closer as a family. The cost of 12 riding horses and 4 pack horses was my favorite AR-15 and 160 rounds of ammunition. I now carry my grandfathers Marlin lever action rifle, and it has served me as well, if not better.
Reese is leading us along the river, and I am riding drag. Daily I thank God for blessing us with the skills neccessary to survive. Abby has learned alot about horses, Rose is our resident medic, Reese an excellant guide and crack shot, and Shawna has made a good school teacher. Just as our ancestors did many years ago, we survive by neccessity, and though the weather is turning cold, we ride north, into the mountains. Strength of family, and faith in God will see us through, and come what may, we will survive

EOW 5/10/10

After the incident at "boot hill" a few days ago, I felt we needed a "pick me up".  I spent most of a day carving a bat, and gathering a few rock "balls".  It took a little coaxing, but I managed to get everyone interested in a baseball game, albeit with a few special rules. The basics of it are we men were handicapped beyond reason, and the women and kids got away with whatever they chose. One of my sons in law got silly and threw a dirt clod to his wife instead of a rock, and it just busted, but she ran anyway, and hollered we couldn't tag her out cause the ball was in pieces on the ground or some silly reason like that and she ran the bases twice. It was the height of foolishness, our society was in ruins, and we were playing rock and stick baseball, in a national park, laughing our selves silly cause my daughter was taking a second turn around the bases.
Perhaps if we can laugh at ourselves, and enjoy our time together, then humanity may yet survive. If, even for a time, the joy of being a family can override the responsibility of living, we may have a chance at surviving. If the day should ever come when survival is all we have, when getting from one day to the next is our only reason, it is then, our life has ended.

EOW-5/05/10

5/05/10
I killed my first man a few days ago, and it has had an unexpected effect on me. None. He was stealing food from us, and so deserved to die. I am sure he was hungry, or his family was hungry, or whatever, that food is our life, and so we must protect it. I backtracked from where I think he came from, but I am no tracker so must keep watch carefully against reprisals.  I had traded an 8mm Mauser and 100 rounds for two horses, and so could ride 5-7 miles up the canyon and leave him on a hill about 200 yards across. I think I'll call it Boot Hill.

EOW Chapter two

Eight of us left our home in the Texas Panhandle that morning, and setting up in the Hondo Valley was more an adventure than an escape. It took three weeks to set up permanant shelters. We had a four room dugout with a large central area, and a smokehouse attatched to one side.  Dugout  .
In the coming weeks we tried to return to a normal life, as normal as is possible following the EOW.  We held school for the kids, even teaching them how to tie knots, hunting for food, and the three R's. The first sign of winter was in early november when the first freeze came. Then the reality began to sink in, just what had happened, and what was to come. This was not just some grand adventure we would go home from someday, Our society had broken down, It wasn't the end of our country,  America is alive in its people, "for as long as the wind dances across the plains and stirs even a single star, for as long as a dream stirs a lonely heart, then abide honor and pride, and freedom will go on forever, and America will never die." Those words are the hope we live by. There are times we all get discouraged, and nothing is ever easy, even going to the bathroom is difficult. It hits me sometimes how lazy and complacent we had gotten, allowing ourselves to be controlled by the allure of technology. Had we only truly understood just how much was at stake we would have made things different long ago.
(present day)
It is not as cold this morning, I am on guard at the far end of the westernmost canyon. I am here because we had raiders two days ago, and nearly lost some valuable supplies. The deer jerky we made was stolen, and only recovered when the raider was shot. My father built this rifle I carry, and it served me well.
I saved my thermos and use it every morning now, at the western canyon guard site. Winter stayed late this year, and it almost feels as if the seasons are changing. It is early May, and the temperature should be well above the lower thirites at night even here. We have discovered trade with others in the area, and one is a rancher from farther up the canyon willing to trade beef for ammo, and I am still thinking about it. We have some 30-30 that we don't need as the rifle that used it was damaged beyond repair long ago, and I kept the ammo for just this purpose, maybe.

EOW-Chapter one

CHAPTER ONE: How it all started.
It happened 8 months, 14  days ago. Today is may 4th, 2010. When it happened it took us all by surprise. The pointless reason it all started was what really surprised us all. It happened in Azusa, California, when a television station reported a grocery store chain was closing a warehouse food outlet, more closures were expected, and the future of food distribution was unknown..etc.etc. It was sensationalist reporting of course, but it opened a floodgate of panic that had far reaching consequences. The story was aired first on monday morning at 6:00. When the residents of the L.A. area heard the story, they paniced, and started a buying spree on grocery stores all over the area, and other news stations made the problem worse and by 5pm every grocery store from San Diego to Bakersfield was completely empty, and by the next morning the warehouses were empty as well. The highways in the L.A.  area were unable to handle the increase in tractor trailor traffic, and 24 hours following the original airing of the story, southern California was unable to support its own demand for food. The entire social structure broke down, and it was a war zone equal to anything America has seen on the evening news. Armed gangs broke down doors, and killed just for the food in a persons refrigerator. 
The increased demand in California sent waves of panic and the easy communication of the internet, cellular phones, and netbooks worked against us, and nothing could stop the flood of misinformation, and panic. Even when the nexus points were ordered blown, the damage was done.
The National Guard, already on alert, was nationalized at 7:40 am on the 23rd, and martial law was declared by noon. The best laid plans of FEMA and the other alphabet agencies went for naught, and America was the land of anarchy by the morning of September 25, 2010.
When the waves of panic crossed the country, we all knew the worse was coming. The family got together as we had always planned, and gathered our supplies and waited. Monday evening we decided we would go to run point #4. We planned 6 "run points", or places to go when the end times came, and just before sunrise on Tuesday morning, we left for Lincoln National Forest,  and Hondo Valley. We followed the highway to Lincoln, turning right at the crossroads and found the spots we had scouted on the banks of the Rio Hondo. Eight of us left our home that morning, my wife, two daughters and their husbands and children. Having plenty of time to gather our supplies, plan the move and make the best choices, we kept one person awake at all times, kept a careful watch on the vehicles and supplies, and loaded early what supplies remained, and left with the sun. just 4 hours later we were setting up camp, and making plans for a more permanant shelter.

choices

Making choices for tshtf is difficult for those of us who question everything. Trust is a hard issue when you realize what is at stake. It has been made even more complicated by the plethora of information available. Gun, no gun, what knife, how many, what kind? The answers can only come when society as we know it has ceased to function, then the choices we have made will show our wisdom, or foolishness. Whenever I prepare, I try to imagine that there are no grocery stores to buy from, no internet to order from and only what I have in hand to live on. This leads me to beleive simplest is best. Less to go wrong, less to do without. What if myself, my wife, or son in law had a deep cut across the arm, or abdomen, and there are no hospitals around, what would we need to survive. Remember the "Band Aid" tins? In one of these I keep a needle and thread I have soaked in alcohol, sterile bandages, alcohol in a small bottle, and tweezers. This would by no means be the best option, but in a dire emergency would save a life.
Balancing neccessary with available space and weight is my biggest concern. Have I overpacked on food? have I underpacked? What kind? As a younger man I have done my share of camping in wilderness areas, but this is not an accurate barometer because I always knew I would be coming back in a week or so. I have never experienced the eow and so how to prepare?
It may be enough that I do prepare, do take steps to survive in a post apocolyptic world, even if the choices I make now are not optimal, it is the attitude of survival that drives me forward, pushes me not to be complacent, but to try to survive what I always knew would come. Like many of us, have felt the end of all things in some back room of our psyche, and so must prepare.
The beleif that all things will soon end is controversial, yet one thing is clear, we live in a society constantly on the edge of financial ruin, even if our social structure remains intact, even if the end never comes, it is a wise man that is prepared for an uncertain future.
Tomorrows survival is todays choice.

Values

In our world, values are assigned to things according to their neccessity, or availability. It is easy to justify a considerable expenditure on what we consider neccessary. The latest electronic gadgets, or latest vehicle everyone thinks we need, and often at the expense of other items deemed less neccessary.
Assigning value in an apocolyptic world is a more difficult undertaking, and neccessary takes on a whole new meaning. Gadgets no longer function, the cell won't dial out, the netbook won't wi-fi, the plasma TV just snows, and even the old fashion landline doesn't work. When we suddenly find ourselves flat broke because our credit card won't let us charge it, the bank is closed, and no one wants to accept an old fashion hand written check, we discover neccessary just doesn't mean what it used to. Food is suddenly very neccessary, and when the utilities don't function 'cause they're computerized, or the utility company personel are staying home, cooking, drinking, and flushing the toilet become very neccessary as well. It is at this time we question our values. The wisest of us question values before they become a neccessity.
Our failing economy makes these choices difficult. However, even on a budget preparing for more difficult, or apocolyptic times can be made easier, and here's how: Every time I go to the grocery store, I pick up a few extra items for storage. A can of tuna or dried beef is certainly not on anyones gourmet food list, and Spam may not be the most desirable meal, but if you were hungry, and society just went belly up, how good might a cheap can of Spam look then? Here is a good example: dried beef 1.50-beef boullion .30-1tablespoon flour .05-salt,pepper-8cups water and boil. total 1.85. feeding a family of four, valued at..? Today a S&W model 64, 38special is valued at 200.00-250.00 [jgsales.com] and there are plenty around. What if there were no more to be made, no ammunition to be made, and throngs of starving zombie like people knocking down your door, what would a 6-shot double action 38 special be worth then? What would a cheap 20gauge shotgun be worth? It is this reason I keep different types of ammunition in my bug out bag, Protection and trade. A Smith and Wesson revolver is an excellent choice for an end of the world gun. My S&W model 19 will fire-357magnum, 38special, 38 long colt, 38 short. Four different rounds. My 32magnum charter arms snubbie will fire 32 H&R magnum, 32 S&W long, and 32S&W. 7 different rounds in 2 pistols. As I said, excellent EOW guns.

my pocket survival kit: In an altoids tin I carry in a pocket I have-
bailing wire, fishing line and hook, needle and thread, blade, a few bandaids, a few BC powders (powdered aspirin), matches in plastic, firestarter.
with this kit I can- Sew a gaping wound, have analgesic for pain, fish, clean fish, start a fire, repair any number of things with bailing wire. (also called mechanics wire) and other uses.

In a small bag no larger than a typical womans purse I have- flashlight, extra batteries, candles toothache kit, military can opener, eating utensils,10 packets handwarmers, clean bandanas for bandages, a few of each of the following- 8mm,223rem,357mag, 32mag,38spec,32s&w,20ga, 22lr, gun oil and cleaning gear, hemostats, flat & phillips screwdrivers, needle nose pliars, extra fine steel wool, small tube of graphite, loaded 32mag revolver,poncho, extra straps, toilet paper, sewing needle and thread, waterproof matches and firestarter, whistle, scout compass, first aid kit, folding camp shovel, 25 feet nylon rope, 12oz water, pint of medicinal whiskey, 8 individual coffee bags, 6 hot chocolates, boullion, tea bags, 6 meal bars.

If you choose gun ownership, choose wisely, and for the right reason. It is not a machismo issue, it is a security issue. It does not imply illegality, it proves reason. I have chosen revolvers because in my opinion they are more reliable. In a survival situation reliability is of the uppermost importance. I may go years and not need my revolver, then need it in a moments notice. A double action revolver is a load, forget, aim, and fire weapon. I chose a Charter arms 32 magnum snubbie. It is well built, good design, relatively inexpensive ( about 350.00) small, and a 32 H&R magnum shell with 85 grain bullet, is more than sufficient for protection.

The quiet ones

"you cannot invade America, there would be a rifle behind every blade of grass." Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto.
In the quiet places of our beloved country, we go about our daily lives. Most of us have never seen the lights of the great cities of the East, nor the great Columbia River. We have not trod the beaches of the west coast, nor seen the centers of finance, or of government.
Our names have not been seen on the news, nor our faces in print, and no one knows of our existence save for our loved ones and friends. We go about our lives never having influenced policy or called on to give our views to a reporter.
Our fame is in the eyes of the children, and grandchildren we have raised. It is to them we give our views and opinions. It is the bow of our heads in prayer, or the flag outside our homes that is the only interview we will ever give. It is the full knowledge of our country's most sacred documents, or the understanding of a system of government that influences the policy by which we live.
Our lives are not on the evening news for all to see, to comment on, or ponder. No one will conduct opinion poles, and chances are never even know we have lived. we are the quiet ones behind every blade of grass, and we will never die.