EVERYBODY'S GOT A PLAN

By Tom Neal
Bigfoot Trails Basecamp | Independent Adventure Media

Years ago, many years ago, I used to be a backcountry backpacker. I'd carry 65–75 pound packs out on adventures around Mt. Rainier or the Olympic Mountains here in Washington State. Once I started drag racing, I let most of the gear and the passion for it go.

In the last few years, though, that passion for the woods has come back, but in a different way. I've been doing a lot more fieldcraft and survival, and I've been thinking a lot about backpacking again. I've also been going through military/ tactical training with friends.

With this group of friends, we've got some who prepare for bugging-out situations and some who plan to bug in. We've gotten together with our kits, emptied them out, and compared gear. But more importantly, we talk about why we carry what we carry and how we use each item.

One very close friend of mine was shocked when he saw my "small" kit. As we talked and I explained what I had, when and where I'd use it, and why I carried each piece, he was amazed.

This is a guy who has basically spent the last 50 years in the woods as an avid hunter, with a bow, modern rifle, muzzleloader, and all types of game in all kinds of weather. He'll park his truck and hike a good 20 miles, even in heavy snow. Crazy bastard. But I love the guy. Great friend.

My method of thinking when packing my bag is that I'm not "bugging out" or "bugging in." I pack my kit as a survival bag.

As I explained to the group, if I'm out somewhere and my Jeep or truck breaks down, or shit goes south while I'm out somewhere and I need to get home to my family to protect them, that puts me into a survival and mission-oriented state of mind.

When I get into that mindset, I don't stop until I need to. I don't eat until I need to. I push through everything.

My kit doesn't contain a sleeping system or a tent. I have fire-making stuff for an emergency, but if I'm pushing to get home, I'm not stopping to build a fire. If I get stuck somewhere and need to build one, I can and will.

For the most part, though, I keep my kit small and light so I can move quickly, cover ground, and stay as concealed as possible.

If I get to the point of exhaustion and need to take a quick nap, I have a space blanket and a candle. I can cover myself with the space blanket and light the small tea candle. Between that and my body heat, I should be okay in most scenarios around here.

I've got a Sawyer water filter for drinking because we have a ton of water in our area year-round. I also have a pocket stove and fuel, along with some protein- and calorie-packed foods.

Food isn't a huge concern for me. I usually eat once a day anyway, so I can generally go a couple of days without eating while exerting energy before I really feel the effects.

Can you do that?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Everybody is different. I've trained my body for decades for this type of shit.

So, in this group, we discussed the bug-out and bug-in options and scenarios. We all agreed there is no right or wrong answer because it's completely dependent on the situation and the location.

For us, none of us live in a metro area. Some are in a small town, some are rural, but none of us are particularly concerned with the same kinds of problems people living in major cities might face.

Here in western Washington, we have rain and wind, which can cause mudslides and flooding. We don't have to worry much about tornadoes or hurricanes, though, so our kits and options are going to be different from people living in those areas.

That's why, if you're thinking about putting a kit together, you need to think about where you live and what kind of scenarios you're likely to encounter. From there, you can figure out whether bugging in or bugging out makes more sense for you.

If I lived somewhere where hurricanes were a major threat, I'd probably get the hell out. But I can't tell you what to do. I've never been through one.

I grew up in the Midwest and spent plenty of time around tornadoes. In that situation, you bug in, ride out the storm, and then, once it's over, reassess the situation.

For our group and the scenarios we're likely to face, the majority of us plan to stay put until we're forced to leave.

At that point, we've already decided whose property we'd go to and how we'd keep our little community working together. But we've also agreed that nobody shows up empty-handed. You'd better bring supplies to share.

We all know who has what skills and who gets what job if things got bad enough that we were all gathered together.

That's why we train.

Personally, my situation is a little different.

At the time I was thinking through all of this, I was living in town, but we had our property in a rural area. We'd already started building things there, and we planned to continue.

The house was going up for sale, and once it sold, we'd live in the RV on our property while we built our new home.

Once we're there, I plan to bug in.

And never leave.

If things went seriously south—and heaven forbid we ever had war on our soil, something like a Red Dawn scenario—I plan to die defending my homestead.

Basically, for me, there is no "bugging out."

For my friends in town, it's different. They've talked about grabbing as much gear as possible, getting out of town, and heading to one of the other guys' properties to hunker down until they can go home.

We also have a couple of extremely close friends who will be with us, and hopefully we'll eventually build a small cabin for them on our land.

I guess that's really what all of these conversations have been about.

Everybody has a plan.

Some people plan to leave. Some plan to stay. Some plan to fight their way home. Some plan to open their doors and bring their friends in.

And maybe the most important part isn't deciding which plan is right.

Maybe it's knowing why you've chosen yours, knowing what you're capable of, and knowing who you can count on when things don't go according to plan.

For me, the answer is getting pretty simple.

I'm building the place I want to come home to.

So when the shit hits the fan, I'm planning on being home.

And maybe, after all these years, that's why the woods are calling me again.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tom Neal is the founder of Bigfoot Trails Basecamp, an independent adventure media project built around real experiences rather than destination lists and polished travel content. He writes about the people, places, vehicles, roads and unexpected situations encountered along the way.