I spent most of this weekend updating my emergency preparations, with an eye especially to earthquake and tsunami preparedness.
Like most of you, I’ve always had a bug-out bag — a grab-and-go kit — around the house. But I realized as I worked yesterday that I never took those kits completely seriously. Thing is, I didn’t believe I’d need to bug out. Until now, I’ve mostly lived in the sort of places other people would bug out to.
Cabin Sweet Cabin was high on a hill outside of a small town (and was probably the most earthquake-safe structure in the whole county). The Desert Hermitage was a mile up and way to hell and gone away from everything. Sure there were conceivable scenarios in which I’d have to grab that kit and go (a forest fire near the cabin, for instance). But the vast majority of possibilities involved “bugging in.” The few scenarios that had me leaving home usually involved such a localized danger that there would be shelter and help readily available nearby.
Now … different story. And the more I explore both the geology and the topography of this new place I’m living, the greater the dangers appear.
The quake-generating possibilities of the Cascadia subduction zone, which stretches from northern California into British Columbia, were mostly unexplored until the last few decades. The scientific consensus was that quakes in this region would never exceed about 7.5 on the Richter scale — fearsome and dangerous, but not true geological monsters. Only in the 1980s did scientists begin to grasp what the collision of the Juan de Fuca and North American plates could generate. Now they realize that while Cascadia’s big quakes are few and far between, they’re behemoths when they hit — sinking coastal lands by up to six feet and generating unimaginable tsunamis. When scientists began to piece together the geological record, they found that the last monster was in 1700.
As ML said in a recent comments section: the best way to avoid the danger is by not living here. But here I am. And here are a lot of other people, too, for a lot of reasons. (If you could name one utterly safe spot in the world — which you can’t — it would probably be an aesthetic hellhole without rivers, lakes, forests, or any of the other things that make life enjoyable.) No doubt about it, though. Moving here wasn’t a safe choice.
“Official” maps say my house is close to (very close to), but not actually in a tsunami zone. I ask myself: “What the heck do ‘official’ map makers know about it?”
I remember the “official” maps of the expected danger zone published before the eruption of Mt. St. Helens. Those maps probably got people killed; the real path of destruction didn’t resemble the ‘official’ projections. And tsunamis? Heck, those maps are made by bureaucrats sitting safely uphill and inland. The makers appear to be considering only elevation. Are they accounting for potential land subsidence which would abruptly change elevations? Are they accounting for the peculiar hydraulics of tsunamis — the way one wave piles on another in narrow valleys or at the end of channels far from the sea? I think not. I think emergency management officials are doing the best they can. I’m glad I don’t have their job. I’m glad I don’t have to try to prepare other people for disasters or be an official first responder. But those map makers are purely guessing based on one 300-years-ago experience, and they’re not betting their lives on those maps.
So yesterday I took my old kit completely apart and began rebuilding it with a particular scenario in mind: It’s the middle of a rainy winter night. The world starts shaking in a way that only a nearby subduction-zone earthquake can produce. When the shaking stops (assuming the house hasn’t fallen down on me and the dogs, which knock wood it won’t have), I’ve got less than 20 minutes — if that — to get the dogs and me into the nearby hills before a tsunami rampages up the channel from the coast.
There’s no time to dress. I put on the socks and shoes waiting beside the bed (hoping I don’t have to hunt for them if they’ve slid around the room), strap my fanny pack on over my nightgown, throw on a coat, and grab the kit (which is next to the bedroom door, assuming it, too, hasn’t gone sliding; maybe I should strap it down). I throw the door open and let the dogs out off leash.
I dash for the hills on foot, hoping the dogs stay with me. They may not. But in any case, leaving them off leash gives them the best chance of getting into the hills quickly, no matter what happens to me.
I’m not sure what the neighbors will be doing at this point. Some may stunned into inaction. Some may be gathering supplies and trying to calm children. Some may be injured. Some may not be aware there’s tsunami danger this far inland. But because I have to assume that some will be headed for their vehicles to drive to high ground and the streets will be clogged with craziness, we stay on foot and go up an alley and through unfenced yards. Within a block, we’re climbing a muddy, forested slope. I’m wearing the headlamp that hung from the outside of the kit. We scramble up the slope until we’re about 25-feet above my street level. From there, we cross another yard and continue upwards by a paved dead-end road.
Should any part of this route be impassible, I have a Plan B that adds about two blocks to the trek. Fortunately, there are hills in several directions. I am definitely not heading for any of the officially mapped “assembly areas.” That way lies madness, too much traffic, and too many unprepared people.
Of course a thousand things could go wrong with this plan. I could be dead or too seriously injured to use the kit. I could be freaked out by the magnitude of the earthquake. We could be trapped in the house. The streets could be impassible because of subsidence, liquifaction, broken sewer or water lines, downed power lines, or rubble. I could get preoccupied trying to help an injured dog or neighbor. Who knows? That’s why they call these things disasters. Plan C, if I can’t get out of the house, is to get me and the dogs upstairs, where there are ample “bug-in” supplies.
But anyhow, that’s the scenario for which I rebuilt (or rather, am rebuilding) my grab-and-go kit. It’s a situation where, in addition to the standard water-food-shelter triad, I’ll need supplies for keeping warm and dry and for taking care of the dogs, assuming we all end up on a hill together. I’ll never need to get terribly far from civilization — just get above it.
Here’s the chaos of my living room as I worked on the updated kit:
Tomorrow I’ll list the “ingredients” of the kit (so far) and tell why I made some of the choices. I’ll be glad to have reality checks and advice on items to add.
The one big concern that looms after I’ve done all I can is this: Every large local building that could otherwise function as a shelter (schools, churches, lodge halls) is in the tsunami zone and on really bad soil that’s likely to liquify in a monster quake.
The roads into this area are are also prone to landslides, which would slow down any rescue efforts — as would the fact that the population is so low here that basically nobody from the outside is going to give a damn about us if people in more populated areas get hit, too.
Assuming we make it into the hills okay, we’re likely to be up there a while if there was major destruction at home. We might be able to stay in or around some hilltop home or garage once things settle down, but we’ll have to provide our own supplies.
Try installing a hook on the wall and looping a part of your BOB on it. It will be less likely to slide around and if you’re in a hurry, post quake you won’t mind if you rip it out of the wall in a hurry.
Your neighbors will be stunned and likely won’t be moving or doing the right things. A loud voice command repeated and sadly some four letter words for emphasis will get them moving. That is human nature.
Don’t write off the official assembly areas, those are the sites help will go to first and where other people are going to go. (Have to be careful not to get in the Zombie hoard mindset).
One thing to do, is to take the paths you plan on taking a few times in the day, then again at early evening/morning and then at night. Become familiar with it before you have to hurry it. Just like you did for getting out of your home when the smoke alarm is going off…right? (roll out of bed, crawl, check doors for heat, etc?)
I would be sure to have a few coloring books and crayons in the BOB so the kids will have something to do.
A hook for the bug-out kit! Excellent. Will do. I may also go to one of the official assembly areas — but only after things calm down a bit. My particular kids, being canine, won’t appreciate the coloring books — but I’ll bet that’s an element that families with human kids will be glad to consider.
Neighbors … I realized as I thought out my scenario that I wasn’t thinking of any “neighborly” connection; I was (and at this point am) considering the neighbors mostly as a potential impediment in the moments after a quake strikes. I realize this is a narrow and probably not fair view, but it comes from the fact that none of my neighbors are my friends and most are still aloof strangers. (My neighborhood is mostly “ethnic” and I’m not of either of the main ethnicities, so there’s a gulf of reserve.) But I know that in disasters, that changes. We’re all in the same “lifeboat” and will probably all end up helping each other. Still, my first priority is to get up the hill. Can’t help anybody if I’m dead.
I’ve walked the Plan B route several times. Walking it at different times of day is a great idea. The Plan A route involves climbing through a forested patch that’s somebody’s private property, which I’m reluctant to do. When walking the Plan B route the other day, though, a driver stopped to talk to me. Turned out he was a neighbor, quite well informed about tsunamis, and he gave me a tip that led to finding an “unofficial assembly area” that I hadn’t known existed. The spot I’d head for isn’t an “official assembly area,” but others will probably gather there.
Couple of thoughts. My BOB doesn’t have a sleeping bag. I use a bed roll, blanket and sheet rolled up in a small tarp. In the roll is also matches, para-cord, small knife. It is held with two bungee cords and a shoulder strap can be attached if needed. In winter the bed roll can be supplemened with mylar emergency blankets in the main pack.
If you area is prone to slides blocking roads, Route A, through a forested patch might become impassable if the quake brings down trees. If the soil gives, the trees might topple.
You are absolutely right that there isn’t much of anyplace on earth where some natural disaster or another can’t reach us. That’s a given.
When I say not to “be there” I mean where there are known and frequent disasters such as the below sea level places in New Orleans, and metropolitan areas where the disasters mostly come in human parasite and predator forms.
Aside from a catastrophic blow of the Yellowstone Caldera, I’m pretty much prepared to “bug in” for anything else here. My “bug out” type supplies and bag are kept in my car. That way, if I happen not to be home in an emergency, I have what I need to survive until I can get home, or somewhere else.
The key is to know the relative dangers of the place we call home (or travel to), and to have those plans A through C or whatever worked out and practiced, along with the relevant supplies and equipment. The stuff comes out of the car at least twice a year for review and renewal, since some of the contents are quite different for winter and summer. Water is checked even more frequently, since it would be a real bummer to get stuck in an emergency and discover that your water supply is gone and there’s a hole in your bottle.
After that, it’s just the luck of the draw. Some disasters simply will overwhelm some of us. All we can do is plan the best we can and hope.
My sleeping gear is an army lightweight poncho, poncho liner and a space blanket. All of them work well in keeping me warm in wet, cold weather and roll up into a 6 x 14 inch space and if they should get wet they still do their job. I would rather be gang raped by demons from hell than carry a sleeping bag in an emergency. They always get wet (and it’s always wet during a Bug Out, it’s the law) and are of little value unless you have a lot of other stuff, like a tent, to go with it.
Not to sound too paranoid, but I have two bags in my truck, one in the house, and another in the my shed which is a good distance from the house. All have clothing, including shoes with them. It’s assumed I’ll leave the house nekkid, not something my neighbors will appreciate at my present age, but I’m guessing I won’t be alone in that if things get “sudden”.
I’m a little ticked off at this guy cuz he’s done some questionable stuff lately (this is how he makes a living and has many “sponsors”), but he’s got some good info on BOBs. http://ferfal.blogspot.com/search/label/BOB
My BOBs have three bags of tuna in oil plus six MREs. Another little item of interest is Olive Oil. I keep a small bottle in each bag. Keeping warm when it’s freezing is a major problem, particularly when trying to sleep and I’ve learned to take a couple of tea spoons before I try to rest. You will feel much warmer. I’m sure it would work with other oils but I like OO so that’s my choice.
Two different kinds of hot sauces and salt, pepper and garlic granules is critical in any BOB. What you like and I like will be different, so there’s no sense in giving a brand name, but this can be extremely important if you have to eat “institutional” food for anything length of time.
The hook is a great idea but I have wall mounted coat racks at the front door, bedroom door and back door. After a recent “Bible study” a woman of impeccable taste wanted to know why I didn’t hang all that stuff up in closets. Apparently all that shiite hanging everywhere looks “tacky”. But like I said, I assume nekkidness when it all goes wrong. I’ve been doing this for a long time but it seems you have a pretty good handle on it. If you cover the basics of food, water and shelter the rest is mindset and education.
Other people’s kids, that is what I meant. When i was single I helped at a Red Cross shelter for a flood and the first 12 to 24 hours everyone was trying to get set up and organized and the kids were getting in the way, I had just bought some stuff for my nephews birthday party that was still in my truck so i donated them to the cause. One lady took all the kids to one area and held a “coloring contest and to play games”. It was a big help.
If you have not walked Plan A, you might not want to have it as plan A. You don’t know if the forested area is too steep or is full of brambles in the late summer. Or has a winter spring that gets icy.
Kudos on the unofficial assembly area. Getting access to plan a’s route might be a great way to meet the neighbor. Bring cookies, everyone likes that.
One thing we did not to long ago was to go visit a friend a few counties over and we only took our BOB’s. Then we made a list of everything we did not have, or had to borrow from our friends. (can you believe that some food goes bad after eight years?)
One of the forums I visit has a lot on BOB’s and advice, much like the Mental Militia, and it is http://www.thesurvivalpodcast.com/forum/ Some good stuff there.
Running your planned escape route(s) at different times of the day is an excellent idea. Another good idea would be to do so CARRYING YOUR COMPLETE BUG-OUT STUFF. Might discover you need to reduce the weight for all that climbing. Just a thought.
I like EN’s comments on sleeping bags. They are nice to have, but a hassle to carry and do get wet too easily. A wet bag is worse than no bag at all, IMHO.
KK’s point about weight can’t be emphasized enough. Last Spring I went on a day hike to look at the Flowers on Sonora Pass (8,660 ft) and some of these people were track stars while most of us were just old. The kid who used to be able to carry 100lbs of gear and a 23lbs M-60 machine gun all day long with no other major problem than fatigue and bitching, is dead, dead, dead. The old man that’s me has bad knees, wheezes when he’s at his desk and probably couldn’t do thirty push-ups in 2 minutes. After someone reads this they’re going to decide, “I’m going to get in shape so I can carry a 35lbs BOB”. No you won’t. Plan your bag for the condition you’re in right now.
I try to have three plans for everything:
Plan A: what I envision happening
Plan B: What I’m going to do when nothing goes right.
Plan Oh Shiite: This is when the worst happens, and will end up being what you do over half the time from my experience.
Kentucky Kid (and EN) … you may be right about blankets vs sleeping bags. I plan to wrap the bag well, but that’s no guarantee. A wool blanker, OTOH, can keep you warm even if it gets a little wet.
As to the climbing on the Plan A route … good points Kentucky Kid and DrillSgtK. I think if you actually saw the slope I’m talking about, though, you’d agree it’s negotiable even in bad conditions. It’s steep but it’s short. I can see from the bottom to the top of it and know exactly what’s there. Fortunately, the bottom of the slope is also on my Plan B route. Should that hill look too daunting in the moment, I have only to make a turn and keep going along streets, lawns, and sidewalks.
Amen to the comment about brambles and whatnot. Before I began scouting routes, I had ASS-U-MEd that I’d take a slightly more direct route straight into the forest, heading away from houses. But indeed, I hadn’t counted on the presence of a thickly brambled ditch cutting all the way across that route. It would have been a horrible mistake to go that way, and impossible in darkness and bad conditions.
DrillSgtK, it’s particularly good to have your voice of experience. (And don’t worry; I knew you meant other people’s kids. Having something to entertain them is a great idea.)
Something else to think about is your Every Day Carry gear. Getting a tad OT, but for most of us it will be a blessing if something happens when we’re in our homes at night. I was in the Northridge and Loma Prieta quakes away from home and had nothing but the contents my pockets in Northridge and no one spoke English.
http://ferfal.blogspot.com/search/label/EDC
I carry three lights on me if I’m armed and two if I’m watching TV. One is a Streamlight Pen Mate, the other is a green thumb light. Having been in a third world paradise when the lights went out was an amazing experience that led me to Jesus. Clint Smith has a little saying on redundancy and lights in particular. “One is none, two is one, and three is two.”
There’s one guy in particular who lost everything in Katrina who’s got the best site around on this subject. For all the stuff I carry in my pocket I added a flash drive with all important documents and pictures on it. There’s even three hundred songs. And then there’s my Iphone. That has a lot of stuff on it also. But look at this guy’s site. It’s the best thought out info I’ve ever seen.
http://www.theplacewithnoname.com/blogs/klessons/p/0002.html
A little anecdote about walking your escape routes: A few years ago i decided to try my “Oh Shiite” route which is out the back and up the bushy wooded back hill. It has two fences and dead falls everywhere. It seemed like a good idea to do at night. It was tougher than we thought and my son giggled through a lot of it. On arriving at the top of the hill we sat down and were pleasantly sharing a bottle of Grappa. All seemed right with the world… Until my son found a tick on the top of his sock. A quick check revealed 2 on me and three on him. I had no way to remove them. I now carry tweezers on my key chain. Experience is important.
This may be total BS,but supposedly animals can sense earthquakes(“infrasonics”-really low frequencies) and may freak-supposedly, some sense the earthquake beforehand and run off. BS meter not pegged,but off zero.
I need to create a bug out kit-mine is a bug in, since that’s what most likely to be needed,but as you say, anything can happen.
Buy LED replacement bulbs for your maglites-battery life is measured in days-continuously. I have an LED flashlight that stayed on four days continuously during an ice storm a few years ago-on its original set of batteries as of today(it was a gift-one of the most useful ones I’ve gotten this decade),and it’s still bright enough to read by.
I have a 16 pound cat to take care of,as well…
Wool blankets can still be warm even if you are sleeping in a few inches of water. I know this from experience.
I wear a western-type vest with four pockets that are filled with useful things. I also have a belt pouch that I wear all the time that is stuffed with even more useful things. Friends have known that if they need something, check with me first.
If I were stranded away from my BOB, I would still be pretty well set- unless it happened at night and I didn’t have a chance to get dressed. My clothes hang from a peg beside me as I sleep, so I hope I would have a chance to grab them. If not, I think I could make do with the contents of my mind in a pinch.
Scott — It’s not total BS about animals and earthquakes. But it is unreliable. Sometimes animals go crazy before a quake. Sometimes, with a quake just as big, they don’t. Ditto with lots of other signs that have been reported in association with monster quakes — strange electrical phenomenon including “earthquake lights,” sudden water spouts or geysers of sand, ponds suddenly emptying, etc. Time and again, people think they’ve found signs they can pin down. Time and again, the signs fail them.
Kent — Oh, c’mon! You MUST tell us how you know that about wool blankets! Pockets and pouches for everyday things — yes! When I’m away from home I’m nearly always wearing a belly bag that contains all manner of tools and implements. Probably won’t be the ones I need in any given emergency. But I’ll at least be able to brush my teeth, cut things that need cutting, and find my way in the dark.
I love these ideas. I got to thinking about my every day carry and thought of some others things. I always have EMS gloves in my pockets or on a belt holder. Great for emergencys or to pick up something yucky.
In my uniform pockets I’ve got an mre spoon, very handy.
We also keep fruit snacks and other treats in our BOB for kids and quick energy.
Sgt K, I love them also and hope others will chime in. Every time this subject comes up I learn something. I have surgical gloves in some packs but not all and works gloves in some. Thanks for the reminder, I need to get on the ball about that. During the Loma Prieta earthquake the stories that appeared over and over was the need for heavy gloves. Most of us dont have the callouses to deal with a lot of hard work. In one day of digging through rubble anyone without gloves will need medical care if they’re not used to it.
I didn’t see it in your picture, but I HIGHLY recommend getting a couple of collapsible hiking sticks – the kind with a sharp point and a ‘hood’ a couple inches up (to prevent total insertion into wet ground). For me it is almost like having 4 legs, especially when wearing a heavy pack.
Never saw the point of nightgowns, unless there was someone else in the house who liked the look of them. Maybe it’s because I toss and turn so much that they get twisted around and I just about strangle myself with them. I sleep wearing a man’s t-shirt and a pair of cotton slacks. They are just as comfy as any pajamas, and when I get out of bed, I’m already dressed!
If your shoes are the kind with the little loops at the ankle, you can hang them on a hook as well, keeping them from sliding around too much.
My BOB is a truck.
(One of these days I should probably clean that out. It’s still packed for the camping trip I was planning to take 4 years ago, before the “Wheelchair Years”. Then again, I can walk now but I still can’t carry squat, so maybe a truck is the best bag for me to have?)
I am, apparently, listed in 2 different people’s bug out bags on their lists of “Things To Grab”. I found that out a few months into my Wheelchair Years. When I asked one of those friends about that, he answered “With the stuff you know, I’ll carry you on my back if I have to!!!”
That still stands as the greatest compliment anyone has ever paid me.
Wool blankets… well, years ago I was at a mountainman rendezvous where it wouldn’t quit raining. And the “forest circus” goons kept stopping by to remind us there was a fire ban in effect, and to make sure no one was violating it. It was seriously raining so hard that there was no way all the rain could run off- and the ground was fairly high and flat. And it rained for days. My tipi had a few inches of water in it, and I slept in it. Never got cold as long as I was wrapped up, but morning was not a happy time. People did defy the fire ban, of course, but no one got caught as far as I know. I think that’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to seeing a lynching.
RE: Wool in wet conditions
Blankets:
Blankets are excellent in wet conditions and given some sunshine and a breeze will dry fairly quickly as well.
[Two is better than one but one is better than none.]
Two wool blankets and a Large plastic bag make a very light weight but Warm sleep sack. [no tent needed]
Socks:
Socks in wool are HIGHLY suggested. Here three is better than two as you WILL want to wash out the pair from yesterday while the day-before’s socks are still drying Right ?
Mittens [in wool] fit right here next to socks don’t you think ?
IF in doubt as to the type of gear you might want to consider then read the mountain climbing catalogs. 99% of their gear is chosen for durability and light weight.
I see Many good notes here and a short compilation wouldn’t go too far astray don’t you think Ms Claire ?
Pat the puppies and Stay Safe,
gooch
I’d seriously reconsider letting the dogs off leash in any kind of disaster scenario. They get lost just like everyone else. They don’t have any better judgment than people do in emergencies. Running away and hiding or going back to what they know as familiar.When they are a “problem” in bad situations they get shot. Often times just ’cause. On the other hand, even a cowardly a dog on a leash in “interesting situations” or bad times is often a good defender.
Joe in Reno — You make good points and if I had just one dog I’d do that. But three frightened dogs tangling up their leashes and wanting to go three different directions in an emergency while I have my hands full of bug-out gear … can’t even think about that. I will bring leashes with me. But in those first moments, in that scenario, no.