Before we get into it, I'm going to tell you what you are going to forget:
1. Your prescription meds.
2. Your personal identification and papers such as stock certificates.
3. Your pets. I was there in NOLA with a specific brigade and we had our hands full saving the humans. We had to let a lot, A VERY LOT of dogs and cats behind. It broke our hearts.
BUT LET'S SNAP TO. HERE IS WHAT YOU NEED TO DO.
Everybody thinks of the bugout bag as a shopping list. You have to think in terms of the 3 basics: food, water, shelter.
Tarrin told you to get canned food. No. No way. The heaviest thing you should carry is water. Water weighs 8 pounds per gallon, it's very heavy and more than anything else, your bugout gear should be PORTABLE. You have to count on carrying it.
A fit, untrained person can walk 25 miles per day on level ground. I know it seems like a lot but you can do it. Burden that same human down with 50 pounds, you just reduced their capability by 5 miles and not they have foot sores which need treatment.
Put that same human on not-level ground, rough terrain and know what you get? 5 miles overland per day and that's if they don't get seriously injured.
Starting to get the idea? We're dealing with life or death here. OK. So. Screw the canned food, what you want are granola bars.
Screw carrying water if we think we'll be passing by even a swamp because we all got our Sports Berkeys right? Does anybody NOT have their Sports Berkeys? Shame on you.
You need the ability to make fire. For the past 20 years, the "Metal Match" has been the standard. We believe it is possible to start a fire under water with one of these suckers, it's magnesium, it burns about as hot as...well it burns pretty freaking hot, like 3000 degrees Faranheight.
OK you with me so far? We got food and water and the beginning of shelter with the fire and all but we still need shelter.
Know what my bottom-line shelter is?
A garbage bag. Garbage bags have saved my life two times. From hypothermia.
See this one time I was hitchhiking from Boston to a little town in Norther Vermont (Island Pond) and the weather took a bad nasty to the cold side and I was in danger of freezing to death but fortunately, I looked up the road and there was a HEMLOCK FORREST right up the way and HEMLOCK FORRESTS are sure luck to the traveller because there is always "squaw wood" and pitch-flows to make a fire with and almost to the heaviest rain, all you have to do in a Hemlock forrest is wipe away the top layer of duff and you not only have dry, you can stuff that garbage bag full of humous, full of leaves and Hemlock needles and it's great insullation. Just pack all that dry stuff all around you, all around your body inside that garbage bag and lie down and get some shut-eye.
You will not freeze. You will live. And if there are others, do the same. Pack them in their garbage bags until they look like swelling pumpins and say "now go to bed and sleep" and they will be alive in the morning.
If any of this sounds distasteful to you, if you are a rick Rockwellian who finds this amusing pool-side reading, fine. I got a big, fat and long middle finger for you to sit and spin on.
If you are poor in money and hear my voice, let's show them a thing or two. Let's get through this, me and you. And we're gonna try to get our kids through this, priority number one. And when we're done, we're all gonna write a damn book and make some money.
In my previous article I told you how to shave at least $60 off your electic bill. In this one I just told you how to not freeze to death. Where do we go from here kitans? K'shto kitantu? Want me to tell you how to melt your enemy's brains with a single thought?
We'll get to that. For now you just gotta learn how to survive, and take this to heart: I love you and care about you.
If you can wrap your arms around that, that some dirty old reject hippy loves you and cares about you and wants you to live, you are half way there.
OK, breakout bag:
1. If you work in a tall building, you need dust masks and a trenching tool like a spade. You might have to dig yourself out of rubble.
2. I always try to keep 100 feet of rope. I choose #4 clothesline rope. It can handle a 200 pound load once or twice.
3. Water. I carry 1/2 gallon, 4 pounds of the stuff but I got my portable Berkey so I can make drinkging water almost anyplace.
4. Food. Granola bars do just fine. A human needs about 10 of them a day under excertion and that's just keeping you from starving.
5. Garbage bags, rain ponchos, "survival blankets", anything that is impervious to rain and wind.
And Kitans, I don't keep one bugout bag, I keep many. There is the truck bugout, there is the home bugout which is empty, it gets filled mission-specific, I have food and water caches in the hills, I have armaments deployed in many houses, I got $20k in gold and silver in a place where I don't even think I can get to it anymore, that's how safe it is and all of this adds up to a sense of peace and security that I want you to have. Because your happiness is my happiness and your security makes me more secure.
Because I am a simple man. And if anybody tries to push me around, they got a hole in their head to consider. And I'm sorry to say so. I don't like violence and I hate the thought of sending somebody's daddy home in a body bad but I seen the way they treated us at Waco and I seen the way they treated us in NOLA. And they pointed their guns at me when I was unarmed. Because I didn't know that we brought firearms to a rescue mission before that.
Well, now I know. Next time we do a rescue, we're bringing the firearms. To protect the people from the government. And as libertarians, we never initiate violence but that scene on the bridge? It ain't gonna go down like that next time.
I'll say this: cops, duck and cover. Don't think you own the steets. If we wanted to, we would have and you would not have been facing some rabble, you will be up against vets. Combat vets. And I think the very best thing for you to do is to go running home to your momma and hide under her bed. Because you have never in your life imagined what's coming.
WE WILL NEVER, EVER LET THAT HAPPPEN AGAIN. NOT TO YOU AND NOT TO US.
WE SAY NO. AND TEST US ON THIS IF YOU WILL, IF YOU REALLY WILL, GO AHEAD.
I'm a Native American. My people have survived a genocide. You have already tortured us to death. We have been in your jails and prisons, Leonard Peltier is in your tender care now. You raped our women, you killed our children, what exactly do you think you can do to us now?
Hey IRS: screw you. What do you think you can do to me or my people that you have not already done? My people come into this world naked as jaybirds and that's all you can do but now you have shotguns.
Yeah? So do we. I used to respect your badge. Now you are just a jerk in a t-shirt. You have your shiny badge. I got braids, warrior braids to show my connection to Earth Mother and to show how many people I have saved in combat. And I don't wear eagle feathers because it takes a lot more honor than simply defeating your oppostion in combat to wear an eagle feather.
I AM THE LEAST OF MY BRETHREN.
Our name is Wa-Tim-Shon. Tim-Shon for short and it got turned into "Timpson".
Hello Wasi, we are Timpsons and we would like everything between the Hudson and East River back, according to treaty, also according to the Siwanoy treaty so you can just pack up your bags and leave the entire island of Manhattan, treaties say so. We still have the wampum belts that record this. Pack up and leave now. Just go. K'stho. Once you were welcome, now you are not.
You commit a 3rd degree felony by not leaving now, you are guilty of trespass.
Owa, Wasi, in truth, I do not wish to make war on you, I want you to WAKE UP and just REMEMBER.
Way back in the time, when everybody was singing, you got your orders. Everybody was there, we all saw it and to the various orders, He was handing out favours. You were there. This is how you became Wasi. You have to remember.
remember how the mouse and vole people said "give us hands so we can dig houses to be safe in" and God gave them very efficient little claws and made them small.
But likewise the carnivores said "I like the taste of blood" and God said "there is a place for you too and by the way, I happen to know where there are some mice". Hey, take it in stride. Us indians have been waiting for 7 generations for a white buffalo calf to return. And when she did, we totally lucked out becuase the rancher didn't just immediately turn her into hambuger.
I mean that but for a trick of fate, you might have ended up eating our God with lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, special sauce on a poppy-seed bun.
I guess I better sum up. Look guys, dont' be depressed. Don't be unhappy. God loves you to bunches and so do I and when you die, you get a chance to be with your ancesstors and what a happy day but I, along with other warriors, are willing to forgoe our riches in heaven if it means you have nobody to hang out with. Don't worry, we are always, always, alwys with you. God created you. You are worth more than money. I said so. I am Oyate.