Lists of contents for bug out bags are a dime a dozen. Often, they are written and posted by people who have no real experience and are instead just parroting what they’ve read elsewhere. Honestly, I’m not at all certain what this particular writer’s experience is, though there are allusions to some sort of military service. But, I strongly suspect, based on the list he writes, he is instead a veteran of nothing other than heroic battles in his imagination.

My reason for sharing this with you, complete with my own commentary, is that I want you to think things through as you assemble your own bug out bags and other survival kits. Use common sense and logic, rather than just following one or another lists.

I’m not posting the entire article but just the content listing. My comments are in italics.

Weapons and Ammunition

Semiauto handgun in .45 ACP, 40 S&W (A 9mm, is less desirable. The bigger the projectile (bullet) the bigger the hole and big holes and deep penetration.)
Four loaded magazines for handgun
Additional 50 rounds for handgun
Fixed blade combat knife
Folding tactical knife
Tomahawk with sheath (excellent for bush craft & a formidable weapon)
Compact weapons cleaning kit for weapon caliber (Bore Snake and CLP)

A handgun, provided you are duly licensed as may be necessary in your area, is not a bad idea. I’m not sure why the folding knife needs to be “tactical” though. I’ve found a simple Swiss Army knife or a multi-tool works just fine. As for the tomahawk, well, sure it makes for a fearsome weapon but they aren’t light and how much crap do you really want hanging off your belt?

Other Tactical Equipment

LED Key Chain flash light with green lens (to read maps)
Compass
GPS
A map and compass will do you much better good than a GPS unit. Plus, no batteries necessary.

Holster for your handgun
Handgun Magazine Pouches
Camel back style Hydration System with inline filter, 100 fluid. oz
Multi-tool, black or OD in color
If we already have a sheath knife and a “tactical” folding knife, do we really need the multi-tool as well?

Small SureFire (or other tactical-type) flashlight
We have a keychain flashlight, do we really need a “tactical” flashlight too?

Six spare batteries for lights, GPS, etc.
Six spare batteries for Surefire lights
Ditch the GPS and the Surefire and you won’t need all the batteries, which are going to be heavy.

One (1) spare flashlight bulb for each style of light
Appropriate first aid kit
Small binoculars
GMRS/FRS Radio
Radio pouch for GMRS/FRS size radios
Head set with push to talk for GMRS/FRS radio
These radios are only useful if you have someone on the other end to talk with. Also, the range is minimal. Ditch ‘em unless you really have a good reason not to.

Wristwatch with covered dial/face. Nothing that reflects.
Knee pads
I shudder to think what these are for….

Ruggedized Cell Phone with spare battery
Yes, cell phones are a good idea overall but I don’t know that you need to go out and buy a special “ruggedized” one just for the bug out bag.

Cell Phone charger for 12 volt and 110 volt
Topo maps of your area of operation (AO)
Yes, maps are a must. But, how many do you need? One should probably be sufficient. If your bug out plan requires you to travel so far on foot that you need several maps to cover the area, you better rethink the plan.

Shelter

Sleeping pad (Thinsulate)
Good quality large size Space Blanket or Rain Fly, either camo in color or with camouflage net
Ditch the sleeping pad. Replace it with a large contractor grade garbage bag you can fill with leaves.

Water / Food

Water bottle with filter
Several coffee filters to strain sediment from water
Flint & Steel with Magnesium Bar (practice building fires in the rain)
Zip Lock Bag of Dryer Lint (fire starter)
Dehydrated food for at least seven days, entrees only
Heavy duty Fork and Spoon
A way to cook your food, i.e. MSR Multifuel stove or MRE cook pouch. You probably will not always have time for a cooking/warming fires and there will be many times that you do not want to expose yourself with that type of a signature.
If you have the time to actually cook food, you have time to build a fire. Ditch the stove altogether.

P 38 can opener

Clothing

1 set of Camo appropriate for your location
1 pair of combat style boots that are well broken in to your feet
Camo rain gear or winter gear as needed
Hat
Sun glasses
Tactical belt for pants
Dry socks (No socks with seams over the toes! i.e. Smart Wool brand)
Camo rain poncho
Store everything that has to stay dry in heavy duty Zip Lock bags
All this insistence on “camo” is getting ridiculous. A bug out isn’t, or shouldn’t be, some sort of quasi-military patrol. You’re trying to get home, that’s it. Dressing up in camo is just going to get you noticed and singled out rather than blending in.

Other

If you wear prescription glasses or contact lenses you must have a spare pair/set
Toilet paper and know a natural alternative in your AO. Save the T paper for when you have to be quick
As opposed to the leisurely dump in the forest we all look forward to each day.

Tooth brush
Apparently the writer doesn’t feel toothpaste is necessary, just the toothbrush?

10—six inch black zip ties (to repair equipment in the field)
10—heavy duty 12” black zip ties to secure bad guys
What bad guys? You’re trying to avoid contact with other people, not go all Rambo and try to trap them somehow!

One roll black electric tape (UL listed)
Why?

Partial roll of camouflage Gorilla Tape
Why does it have to be camouflage? Why Gorilla Tape? Just make a roll of duct tape by rolling it onto a pencil and toss that in your kit.

100’ of 550 cord
Potassium Iodate tablets
For the threat of nuclear radiation, I presume.

Several one gallon size Zip Lock Bags (spares)
Two leaf/yard size trash bags
Two small roles of picture hanging wire for snares etc.
Hooks, flies, lures, line, sinkers, swivels, weighted treble snagging hook with steel leader, all sized for your A.O.
I’m on the fence about snare wire and fishing gear. On the one hand, yes you should have the means to procure food, just in case. But, on the other hand, a bug out means you’re likely not spending a lot of time in any one place. You should be moving towards home when you’re not sleeping.

One small plastic container of cayenne pepper
Why? What is this for? Salt and pepper to season food would be good but I’ve no idea what he plans to do with cayenne pepper.

Mosquito repellent

Now, I’m not going to address the comments he makes in the overall article, given how his entire approach is on the “tacticool” side of things. Suffice to say, this guy apparently believes a bug out is akin to patrolling for enemies in a hostile jungle rather than what it really is — an attempt to get home as quickly as possible. Just one more mall ninja who makes the level-headed among us look bad.

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I’ve known Chance Sanders for a couple years now. We met when we were both guest speakers at the 2011 Survival & Preparedness Conference in Dallas, Texas. In the time since, we’ve traded several emails and phone calls, often talking for an hour or two, discussing all manner of survival skills and preparations. He has always impressed me with his knowledge and experience. Chance is a former Marine and now works as a private consultant. He’s been there, done that.

In his new DVD, Surviving Civil Unrest, Chance gives practical information and advice on handling emergency situations in an urban environment. While most of us would love to never have to even visit a large city, let alone live or work in one, the reality is that just isn’t feasible for everyone. Therefore, learning survival techniques that are particularly applicable to the unique aspects of urban areas is critical.

As Chance notes, a common factor to all urban disasters is civil unrest. Looters, riots, even just plain panic will quickly overwhelm law enforcement and other agencies, leaving most folks on their own for a while. The premise of the presentation is a hypothetical bug out from an unknown incident in the city. Whatever happened is causing people to panic and Chance is working to extricate himself. Throughout the video, there are cut scenes with interviews with various other experts, adding great value to the overall content.

One idea he touches on a few times is something I myself have touted here on SurvivalWeekly.com and elsewhere — skills trump stuff every single time. It is far better to know HOW to do something than just happen to have the right item at the right time. Gear is great but it can never replace that tool that rests between your ears.

Planning is key and he talks about this at length. Having written plans your family at home can refer to while you communicate with them is a great idea. Another great tactic he mentions is setting up ahead of time specific intervals for communication during an emergency. By having in your written plans that you will call on the hour or half hour, assuming you’re able to do so, avoids the necessity of keeping your phone turned on the entire time. This allows you the ability to be comfortable with turning it off or to silent as needed when traveling. Your family also doesn’t need to hover by the phone at all times and can instead focus on getting you help if need be.

Chance also talks a bit about how to blend in with the crowd. If you’re walking down the sidewalk, you want to be invisible, not stand out because you’re wearing the latest and greatest tacticool gear.

The production quality of the video overall is much better than average. It is obviously professionally produced, rather than just a couple guys with digital camcorders running around playing ninja.

I feel Surviving Civil Unrest should be required viewing for any prepper who lives, works, or travels to urban environments.

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The Hunger Games series written by Suzanne Collins has proven to be wildly popular. For the handful of you who may not be familiar, the gist of the story involves an annual contest called The Hunger Games (go figure). Each year, two young adults are chosen from each of a dozen districts to compete. The Games are essentially a battle to the death among the contestants. The primary character, Katniss Everdeen, comes from the poorest district and has a wealth of experience in living off the land, tracking, hunting, and related skills. Throughout the story, she uses these skills to survive.

What Creek has done is go through the story and pull out all those little tidbits of wilderness lore and then show the reader how it works in the real world. He covers everything from building shelters to making fire, locating water to navigation. Creek shows the reader how to put together a survival kit from scratch as well as how to choose a survival knife.

While throughout the book there are references to The Hunger Games, characters, scenes, and such, you certainly don’t need to be familiar with the story to learn a TON of great information here. One of the many things I like about Creek is his ability to convey knowledge without being overly technical or dry. He writes in a very conversational tone, which I think goes a long way toward allowing the reader to learn.

Look, I’ve read a ton of wilderness survival books. I’ve gone out in the field and tested techniques I’ve learned, seeing what works and what doesn’t. I’ve been at this for about three decades now. Yet, I still learned a few things in this book. To me, that’s the key element for whether I like a particular manual or not. If I can pick up at least one good tip, the book is worth it to me. In The Unofficial Hunger Games Wilderness Survival Guide, even the most experienced outdoorsmen and women will learn a thing or two.

To help celebrate the release of this book, we’re doing a small giveaway. See this prize pack?

I have not one but TWO of them to send out! Each pack contains:

–A SIGNED copy of The Unofficial Hunger Games Wilderness Survival Guide by Creek Stewart.
–A Willow Haven Outdoor sling bag.
–A Willow Haven Outdoor bandana.
–A 5-in-1 survival tool.

To enter to win, simply leave a comment below. To gain an extra entry, share the link to this blog post on Facebook and/or Twitter. Either tag me in the post (@SurvivalWeekly on Twitter, here on Facebook) or send me an email letting me know you’ve done so.

Get moving though as the contest ends Friday, May 24, at 5:00pm CST!

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Back when I was a kid, I absolutely loved all those cheesy post-nuke book series that were so popular in the 1980s and 90s. Stuff like THE LAST RANGER by Craig Sargent and TRAVELER by D.B. Drumm. Of course, there were the movies too. The Road Warrior comes immediately to mind.

THE WELLER harkens back to those days when the best post-apocalyptic stories involved gun battles waged from classic muscle cars screaming through a desert landscape. Part throwback and part homage, this ebook was non-stop fun.

Clean water is a valuable commodity in this post-apocalyptic wasteland. Matt Freeborn was taught at his grandfather’s knee how to be a “weller,” someone skilled at finding hidden reserves of water. The antithesis of a weller is a “distiller.” These evil men harvest water from the dead, even sometimes the living. They hook bodies up to machines that drain every drop of H2O, water that tastes like death.

As the story progresses, Matt battles distillers, mutants, and all sorts of ne’er do wells. Along the way, he also liberates one of the coolest muscle cars ever produced, a 1971 Road Runner. Upon coming across an old friend, Matt resolves to help his buddy out in his time of need. The two then pair up to take on a small army of bad guys, all intent on turning Matt and company into glass jars of clear liquid.

THE WELLER is very well written. The main cast isn’t just full of stock characters but fleshed out enough that the reader sees them as people. Their actions and motivations make sense and the dialogue rings true. The author shares just enough back story to make the reader crave for more.

If you’re like me and you recall fondly movies like The Road Warrior and/or books like THE OUTRIDER by Richard Harding, you won’t want to miss THE WELLER!

Find it on Amazon here.

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While I’ve not read all he’s published thus far, I’m a fan of Jeremy Robinson. His books are a great mix of action and science fiction and are just plain fun to read.

SecondWorld is no exception.

Lincoln Miller is an ex-SEAL turned NCIS special agent. The story begins with Miller spending time in an underwater research facility called Aquarius, ostensibly watching for polluters and garbage dumpers. The reality is he is enjoying a couple weeks of quasi-vacation. Given his Navy background, he is in his element living under the sea for a while.

His leisure time comes to an end though when he finds fish all around him dying and a strange red debris floating down from the surface. As he explores the area using SCUBA gear, he can’t seem to make heads or tails of what has happened. There are no boats in the immediate area and the red flakes are just coming from the open sky. Then, a dead blue whale drifts into Aquarius, damaging it. Forced to flee to the surface, Miller finds there is no oxygen in the air.

He makes his way to Miami, using SCUBA tanks to breathe, and learns the entire area is full of corpses. Scavenging his way through the city, he discovers one lone survivor, a young girl at a hospital who was in an oxygen tent. He manages to keep them both alive, due in part to his SEAL training and part to his just stubborn will to live, as they find their way out of the city and eventually to breathable air once again.

While recovering from his harrowing journey, Miller learns the truth behind the catastrophe. The Fourth Reich has risen and this is just a sampling of what they have in store. In about a week, the entire planet will be just like Miami, with the Nazis hidden in safe underground structures, ready to rise like the fabled Phoenix and remake the planet into what they call SecondWorld.

As it turns out in the story, a significant percentage of the armed forces and U.S. government are secretly Nazis as well and have pooled their efforts to move this project along.

Miller is asked by the President of the United States to prevent the disaster from happening and promises him every resource he could ever need, save for a squad of soldiers as they cannot know who can be trusted.

There are double-crosses along the way, as well as not a small amount of action and adventure, some of it even more tongue in cheek than the overall premise of the book. He also has allies who come to his aid. One of whom, code-named Cowboy, grew to be my favorite character. The best way to describe him is to imagine Chekov from the old Star Trek series written as a total badass who gets all the best lines.

This book has a lot of classic conspiracy theory in it as well, borrowing from WWII UFOs, Operation Paperclip, and secret Nazi bases in Antarctica. As I’ve always had an interest in such legends, I was pleased to see them talked about here and worked into the story.

Yes, the science is implausible at best. But, if you use your suspension of disbelief skills, you’ll have a great time with this book. Part Indiana Jones, part Michael Crichton, with heavy doses of Matthew Reilly and James Rollins, SecondWorld pulls you in and doesn’t let go.

Find it here on Amazon or see if you can get it through your library.

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After reading through the new issue, let me start my review by saying Living Ready is, hands down, THE BEST PREPPER PUBLICATION ON THE MARKET TODAY!

When the first issue of Living Ready came out last year, it had been intended to be just a one-off special. Few people were more excited than I when they decided to make this a quarterly publication.

Whereas some of the other ones out there concentrate heavily on firearms and/or conspiracies, Living Ready Magazine truly hits all the high points of well-rounded survival planning. Here’s just a sampling of the wide range of coverage in this issue.

–Heirloom seeds
–Seed banks
–Go bags
–Concealed carry handgun selection
–Shotguns
–Survival medicine
–Reversible outerwear
–Flashlights
–DIY home security

One of the articles I found particularly interesting was Why Air Matters: Introducing the Amazing Modern Air Rifle by Living Ready Editor James Card. I have brought up the suggestions of including an air rifle in survival preps several times and it was nice to see someone else lending some validity to my claims. The article discusses not only the different types of air rifles available but their applications in a survival situation.

Prophylactic Preparedness by noted survival expert Creek Stewart talks about several different ways to use a condom in a crisis, such as for carrying water, keeping tinder dry, and first aid. There were a few uses in the article even I hadn’t thought of!

For those new to the idea of gardening, Sustainable Feast by Deanna Caswell and Daisy Siskin gives a great overview container gardening as well as raised beds. The article also talks about garden planning in general, how to space out your planting over the season to get the most out of your gardens.

First person accounts of disasters are always welcome and In the Heart of Dark Manhattan by Ron Swegman is no exception. He describes what it was like in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.

The magazine runs for about 100 pages and is absolutely crammed with great information for both the newbie as well as the experienced prepper. One thing I particularly liked was that while there are plenty of ads in the magazine, you don’t need to go through about 18 pages of them before you get to a single article. Also, the cover price is just a hair more than half of what you’ll pay for similar magazines.

I believe this new issue hits the stands the first week of April. Keep an eye out as you won’t want to miss it!

In the interest of full disclosure, there is an article in the magazine that is an excerpt from my book, Prepper’s Home Defense. Please note though that the presence of that article in this issue had absolutely no bearing on my review here. Long-time readers here should already know that.

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Deborah

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She sat in the old rocker by the cold cook-stove, reading. A warm September breeze drifted in thru an open window, bringing with it the fragrant scent of the wild honeysuckle that now grew by the sliding glass door.  She closed the old, well-worn Journal and set it down, the tears pooling in her dark hazel eyes.  Oh, how sad Deborah had been, she thought, searching her pocket for a hanky; cloth of course, there’d been no paper tissues in a very long time, but she did remember them.

Emilee, now 25, lovingly stroked the smooth cover of the brown leather book her Nahna had faithfully kept for many years.  There would be time to continue reading, she thought, knowing there was more written, much more beyond the five months she had just finished.  She wiped her tears, shed in sympathy for the heart ache her grandmother had felt at the time, but also knowing that Grandpa John had come back to Nahna, not a month later, unable to stay away from the woman he loved so deeply.

Emi stood and stretched the kinks out of her back; she’d been sitting in one place too long, especially after hours of working in the garden.  It would be a good crop this year, she thought, Nahna would be pleased.  Her heart clenched.  Nahna passed away three weeks ago; pined away is more accurate, died from a broken heart, Emi thought.  Grandpa John had a heart attack and died two weeks before that, and Nahna just didn’t want to go on without him.

She glanced once more at The Journal.  Yes, there would be time to read more of Nahna’s life later.  And what a life it was! She knew, since she, Emilee Ashton Rush, was there.

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I woke during the night, heart pounding, gasping for breath, the result of a bad dream.  I snuggled closer to John for comfort.  He wasn’t there.  I stretched my hand out across his side of the bed: the sheets were cold; he’d been up for some time.  Still use to moving around in the dark, I found my robe and tied it closed while I wandered silently toward a softly glowing light in the other room.  There he was, standing by the deck-door, staring out into the darkness.  I leaned against the door way to watch him:  sweat pants slung low on his hips, barefoot, shirtless.

“I can feel when you come near me, you know.  I don’t have to see you to know where you are,” he kept looking out the window, the small battery lantern cast a soft glow; his shadow bounced off the opposite wall.  I waited until he turned around.

“Are you ok, John?” I asked as softly and as evenly as I could.

“I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to disturb you,” I noted he didn’t answer me.  “Why don’t you go back to bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he promised.

I turned and went back to bed.  A few minutes later I felt him shift under the covers and he curled himself around me, holding me snug against him.  We both finally fell asleep.

We made love that morning.  It was sweet and gentle and ….. sad.  Then John slipped out of bed; I could hear the shower start.  I turned over and wept.  All I could think of were all the unexplained hours away from home; all the quickly hung up phone calls when I came near. Before the water went off, I used the second bath to rinse my face and use eye-drops hoping to conceal the redness from my tears. I slipped on my usual morning sweatpants and t-shirt, both now too baggy on me.

I was already pouring a cup of coffee, when he came out, dressed in jeans and a deep green hoodie. I turned to him.  “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question. My hands were shaking, the coffee sloshed; I set it down on the table.

“I got a message from Green Path.  They’re starting up operations again, and I have to report back.”  He crossed the room to me.  I backed up.  “Deb………,” his voice caught, pleading; that sweet, charming South Carolina drawl that I’ve gotten so use to, clawing at my heart.

“Why can’t you stay here and still work for them?”

“They just don’t work that way,” he ran his hands over his bald head in that oh so familiar way, and I lost it.  The tears just streamed down my face.

“If you have to go, John, then just go,” I was surprised the words came out.  I hadn’t seen his duffle already packed by the door. I wanted to reach out, to hold him; keep him from leaving me.  But I can’t force him to stay; I can’t make him love me.  My hands hung limp at my sides, twitching, aching to touch him, to hold him here, I wanted to beg him to stay.  I stood silent.  Pride stopped me. He picked up the duffle and walked out.

I stood at the door, hidden by the curtain and watched him walk down the road, the duffle slung across his shoulder; a sob escaping from my throat with every step he took away from me.  He turned into the drive of the other Green Path house, likely to catch a ride back to Eagle Beach.  How could he do this to me, to us? Did the past four months mean nothing to him?

On uncertain legs I went into the bathroom, hoping to find some relief under a hot shower.  There on the dryer, all neatly folded, were the clothes I had given him that first day: sweat pants, t-shirts, socks.  The 9mm Beretta sitting on top.  He wasn’t coming back.

My world shattered.  My life shattered. Then my heart shattered.  My legs collapsed and I slid to the floor, as everything around me went dark.

**** EPILOGUE TO FOLLOW****

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This morning’s 52* grew to 65* by noon and I knew how I wanted to spend the day: washing curtains and hanging them in the sunshine!  John helped me sort thru the coils of rope stacked on a shelf.  After the blizzard was over, we retrieved all the ropes, carefully rewinding them, tying them individually and hoping we wouldn’t need them for a long time.  The shorter coils I knew were my clotheslines from last Fall.

I was giddy.  “You don’t know how this makes me feel!  I love the way things smell that have dried outside.”   There is only room for four fifteen foot lines, but it’s enough.

“Since you’ll be spending the afternoon washing curtains, you don’t mind if I take the four-wheeler out for a ride, do you?” John asked, pulling the last clothesline tight.

“No, of course not,” I replied, when actually I was disappointed I wouldn’t have the extra set of hands for some of the other work I had in mind.

I took down all the curtains in the kitchen and dining room, setting them to wash.  Then I started washing the windows they came off of.  Yikes!  Months’ worth of wood smoke was evident as I sprayed on the window cleaner, watching it drip in dirty streaks.  I had to wash each one twice, but now they sparkle.  When I got to the glass door-wall, I also had to clean the track that was full of mud and bird seed; no wonder it was getting hard to move; tooth picks and a tooth brush were needed to dig under the metal rod that guided the door.

When the first load of curtains was waving gently on the clothesline, I put the next load in: the bedroom and hallway.  Since this room was the furthest from the wood stove, the windows weren’t quite as dirty, but still needed cleaning.  As each window was cleaned, I left it open to help air the house out.

Trying to be systematic, I then moved the dining table, swept and mopped under it, moved it back and did the same to the rest of the room in preparation of hanging the clean window coverings back up.  For some reason I felt an urgency to clean, or maybe it was just the warm breezes that was stirring me on.  With the power readily available now, I vacuumed the bedroom and as a last thought, stripped the bed and washed those sheets too.  We might even get fresh pillowcases tonight!

When the sheets finally went on the line, and all the curtains were back on the windows, I started cleaning up the yard from the winter; a very harsh winter in more ways than one.  I stopped, leaned on the rake, getting my cloth hanky out of a pocket, to wipe the tears as memories bombarded me.  I tamped down the emotions and lifted my face into the sun, welcoming its heat.

With all the curtains cleaned and back up, windows washed, floors cleaned, even freshly sun-dried sheets back on the bed, I sat down in my rocker with a sigh of satisfaction.  It was then I realized it was almost 6:00 ….. And John was still not home.

The kids would be over soon for dinner.  It was our Wednesday spaghetti night, and I had yet to put it together.  I found a jar of pork shreds that would do for the meat, and two jars of sauce I made last summer; a pound of linguini instead of my usual angel-hair was next; then a package of ramen for Jacob.  My arms were full as I walked out of the pantry, almost bumping into John.  My heart leaped; I was so glad to see him.

“Did you have a good ride?” I asked, though I really wanted to tell him I was getting worried.

“Yes, I did.  It was a beautiful day.  Let me help with that,” and he took two of the jars from me.  As we set everything down on the work island, he turned back to me.  “The house looks great; nothing like fresh air.”  Small talk.  Inane, stupid, small talk.  I wanted to scream. It was burning in me to know where he had been all this time, but just then the kids came in and the moment was lost.

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