The unreality of a bug-out location

A few months ago, I read an interesting piece on The Organic Prepper on the subject and importance of a bug-out location. Ideally, this is the fully pre-furnished remote location every good prepper is supposed to have up his sleeve for the inevitable time he'll be departing the urban dystopia.

The scene is always set for the prepper to arrive on his remote doorstep, battered but alive from his apocalyptic journey, and slip effortlessly into a self-sufficient lifestyle and live happily ever after. Or something like that.

The ideal Bug-Out Location, the article tells us, should have the following:

• Isolation from major population centers

• Shelter

• At least one-quarter acre of land with excellent soil (for gardening); more land, if possible, to raise livestock

• A natural water source

• A nearby wood source (forest, etc.)

There's so much to unpack in this article that I almost don't know where to start; but frankly, all I can see is a recipe for disaster if people actually try to follow these recommendations.

The article makes it sound like an isolated shack in the woods is all you need to survive a bleep-hit-the-fan scenario, and everyone is already pre-equipped with the knowledge to grow a garden, protect it from deer or other pests, preserve the harvest, and, I dunno, live happily ever after.

But there is more – so much more – to self-sufficiency than a bug-out location.

If you're fleeing a genuine natural disaster (hurricane, wildfire, etc.), then either the evacuation is temporary, or your home is gone. There is no middle ground. If the former, then you can go home as soon as the danger is over, clean up the mess, and resume your life. If the latter, you'll have to start over, hopefully with the assistance of friends, relatives, insurance companies, and contractors.

I've had friends fleeing wildfires. In one case, some friends had the time to temporarily relocate their livestock to a safe location and literally move everything out of their home lock, stock, and barrel. Thankfully the fire missed them, so they took the opportunity to give their empty house a good scrubbing, then moved everything back in.

In the other case, the fire erupted so fast there was no time to do anything but flee, and our friends lost everything but the clothes on their backs. Their home was burned, much of the infrastructure for their farm was gone, and the only reason their livestock survived is because the husband was able to dash in among the flames and release the horses and cattle to a more distant pasture. Friends and neighbors rallied around to aid them, and they're slowly getting back on their feet.

But these are not the situations preppers talk about when they describe bug-out locations. Instead, they set up the scene for fleeing the apocalyptic bleep-hit-the-fan scenario in which cities abruptly become unlivable. This is the setup for which they urge bug-out locations.

But a bug-out location, to be an effective, long-term, and self-sufficient option, has to be so much more than a shack in the woods with a creek running nearby.

First of all, even with all the skill in the world, it will take – at minimum – three months for the refugee's garden to start producing food. (This assumes they were able to plant the garden in a timely fashion and protect it from pests during the growing season.) But what will they eat until their garden is ready? What if they arrived at their bug-out location in the fall or winter (or even in mid-summer), when gardening isn't possible? Do they have sufficient food storage already in place at their remote location to tide them over?

Besides, most people do not leave urban areas possessing the full knowledge and skills necessary to become self-sufficient immediately. Speaking from experience, it takes years of trial and error. To assume you can arrive, panting and dirty, on the doorstep of your bug-out location, remove the backpack from your aching back, and know what to do next is asking a lot.

Additionally, unless the prepper is willing to adopt a hunter-gatherer lifestyle (in which case they're going to need access to a heck of a lot more than one-quarter acre of property), they're going to need a lot of tools. These must either be pre-located at the bug-out location, or brought with them (and trust me, these tools won't fit in a backpack). The list of tools is formidable and includes everything from gardening implements to a pressure canner. Unless the "bugged-out" prepper has access to the tools necessary to live self-sufficiently, he's going to fail.

This is why these kinds of unrealistic "armchair prepper" articles make me despair. We've been involved in the homesteading movement for decades, and we're still learning, still failing, still trying new things. To give someone false hope that they can waltz – tra la la – onto a raw piece of land with a ramshackle shack and transform it into a thriving self-sufficient homestead within a matter of weeks is criminally misleading.

You're not going to your bug-out location for a two-week vacation (that's called a vacation home). Instead, you're going to your bug-out location to survive an apocalyptic situation.

This is not meant to discourage anyone from purchasing land and developing it into a homestead. Quite the contrary: if this is your dream, I urge you to follow through with all possible speed. But it should be a lifestyle, not a place you think will be ready for you in the bleep hits the fan.

It takes time to develop a piece of land into something that will provide your physical needs. My advice: Get started NOW.

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Don and I discussed this subject, and he wrote the following:

It's possible, when you read the above, you said to yourself, "Gee, Patrice is being a bit harsh."

Well, let me tell you that compared to my take on the article in question, Patrice is being far too kind. I'll begin with the general tenor of the article she references.

The author seems to suggest that everything you need to do for developing and maintaining a successful "bug-out" is outlined in his 1,800-word essay. Aside from this being impossible (considering all the permutations involved in locating, purchasing, constructing and maintaining a viable "shelter" in the wild), the author glosses over so many vital concerns as to make the piece worse than useless, moving it solidly into the "dangerous to deadly" category.

Here's a few of his knuckle busters:

• "In this review, we will assist you in choosing a perfect bug-out location where you will have totally secure retreats and enjoy your stay there."

There is no such thing as either perfection or total security in any bug-out location, especially if you don't live there full time. I don't care how crafty you are in purchasing the land or how stealthily you sneak in one 2x4 at a time to build your "shelter" or how far out into the wilderness you go. Someone local – logger, hiker, moonshiner, weed grower, forester – will soon know you are there and will just as quickly spread the word to others. Never doubt the power of the country grapevine. I suppose it's possible you might set up your shelter inside of a hollow log or under a rock pile and get away with being unnoticed for a while, but hollow logs are hard to heat safely and rock piles are there for a reason, often related to unstable slopes above you.

• "[Your bug-out] has to be located quite far from your main house, as you want to be able to escape from your area when any type of emergency starts. Thus, usually, such constructions are located in very remote areas, but the distance from your residence is not the main characteristic."

Aside from the fact that the author contradicts himself in adjacent sentences, the distance between your residence and your bug-out should be a short as possible based on the reasonable disasters you anticipate. If your main concern is a tsunami, having a prepared retreat inland above the anticipated high water levels is smart. If your fears are at the other end of the spectrum – such as nuclear winter or a planet-killing asteroid strike – your best bet is to make sure that you'll be accepted into God's house (which actually is a good and inexpensive strategy regardless of whatever other plans you make). But assuming your earthly concerns are somewhere in between, you want your established bug-out to be located where that you can get to safely and quickly, if for no other reason than that you can check up on it regularly and do such stocking and maintenance as needed to make sure it will be ready for your use. Realistically, the best-case scenario is to live full-time in your bug-out location.

• "A long distance from your home to the bug-out location is important for your safety" and "That is why the distance from your permanent residence should not be too long and too short as well."

Before I go off on the author too much for the above sentences, he does provide specific distances based on travel methods and potential calamities. For example:

• "Using a vehicle – from 50 to maximum of 100 miles" and “Bear in mind that there can be no opportunity to use gas stations. It means that the shelter should be no further than one tank of gas away.“

The main criteria for this distance to your perfect bug-out seems to be your mileage. (Professional hint: try to find a vehicle which can go at least 100 miles on a tank of gas; might want to avoid an EV.)

• "Walking to location – from 25 to maximum 50 miles"

First off, if you live in a major city, you won't even find yourself out of the suburbs at 50 miles. Additionally, what exactly do you think the other refugees are going to do to you and your large and heavy backpack as you limp by on your blistered feet?

• "If you want to hide from nuclear war or tsunami – 100 miles"

Just stop. Please stop.

I thought I'd go farther in reviewing this article, but I have other more important things to do (Sunday nap).

Just understand that there is nothing in the "expert" article under review that will keep you safe. Absolutely nothing.

If you're rightly concerned about living in the cities during these increasingly troubling times, here is the best advice I can give you:

Get out of there now. Sell out and move to the country. Buy a fixer upper and fix it. Build a garden and raise livestock. Learn to preserve food. Learn a new set of skills. Meet, listen to, and become neighborly with the locals. Find a local job or make one. Attend a church. Join a fraternal organization. Stop and smell the roses. Exercise and learn about your area with long backwoods drives and boots on the ground. Homeschool if you've got kids.

I can't promise you that you'll have the perfect bug-out, since perfection is a goal and not a destination, but at least you travel time will be nil.

And if you plan right, you can take tsunamis off you list of concerns.

Bugging Out for Dummies

Recently I came across a list of recommended items for a bug-out bag that was so ridiculous, it was just plain funny. The list originated from an unknown place (meaning, it was a link of a link sort of thing) so I can't provide the original source. However I thought it was time for a rational, sensible discussion of the myths of bugging out in general and bug-out bags in particular.

In the prepper world, bug-out bags have achieved a sort of legendary status. There are hundreds of pre-made bug-out bags on the market. Whole books, websites, and blogs are dedicated to what should go into bug-out bags so you'll be equipped to handle everything from fighting off MS-13 gang members to deep-sea fishing (even if you're situated in Nebraska). These bags often have a twinge of zombie-apocalypse mentality associated with them, the idea that we should all be ready, willing, and able to don a 40-pound backpack and slink out of urban areas, dodging those pesky zombies with clever ninja paramilitary maneuvers, until we ultimately end up in dense forests where we'll survive by our wits and our clever miniature tools.

And that seems to be the focus of many bug-out bags: equipping the bearer to survive in the woods for an indefinite period of time. But in reality, bugging out to the woods is just about the stoopidest idea out there.

Yes, there are times we need to rapidly escape our homes – wildfire, floods, earthquakes, or endless other natural disasters come to mind. But in such a case, unless you're willing to cart along granny and your newborn baby on your back, you're not getting away on foot. You're using a vehicle. Nor are you heading for the woods; you're heading for higher ground or inland or the next town over or a friend's house or whatever.

Here's the thing about bugging out on foot that somehow gets glossed over in the literature: Unless you have a place to bug out TO, bugging out – especially on foot – turns you into a refugee. There are few less enviable positions than being a refugee on foot. Just ask the millions of people across the globe who have been displaced due to war or terrorism. Displaced people are subject to hunger, violence, and murder.

Without a realistic destination in mind, and a realistic means to get there, bugging out on foot is not just impractical, it's a dangerous fantasy. Under a heavy backpack, most fit and experienced backpackers can hike between ten and twenty miles a day, depending on terrain and weather. In most cities, that won't even get you out of the suburbs, and presumably you'll be sharing the sidewalks with hordes of panicked and irrational people.

Besides, most of us aren't 25-year-old single men who spend two hours a day at the gym. Most of us have family members (older or younger) we can't leave behind, not to mention an assortment of pets we've be devastated to lose. Will everyone be camping in the woods once you escape the city?

In short, if the situation is so dire that you're forced to evacuate on foot, it's likely you can't walk fast enough to escape the danger, especially while toting a 40-lb. pack. If you have no other evacuation plan, then you're setting yourself up for a desperate and dangerous undertaking.

Bugging out by foot also means going at the speed of the slowest member of your party. How far can your two-year-old walk? How about granny? What will you do with your pets? How will you carry all the gear necessary to keep Junior, Granny, and Rover comfortable?

See what I mean? The logistics of bugging out on foot are next to impossible for the vast, vast majority of us.

Above all, "the woods" as a destination is a really dumb idea. Who owns "the woods"? Here in the west, there is a lot more government-owned land, so you can disappear for long periods of time. In the east, "the woods" are generally under private ownership, and I can't imagine anyone will appreciate your presence.

Additionally, your grand adventure will only last as long as the food in your backpack (assuming bears or raccoons don't clean you out overnight). All this chatter of escaping to the woods never seems to address one logical question: What will you do once you're there? What will you do in the woods?

In a recent SurvivalBlog post entitled "Food: The Ultimate Weapon," the author (an avid backpacker and outdoor guide) describes how the limiting factor for any trip is how much food he could carry. As a guide, he told the hikers under his care, "If you can't eat it or wear it, then leave it."

As a former field biologist, I can attest that wild animals – especially those higher on the food chain – are driven by starvation. Have you ever seen a fat coyote? Me neither (unless they're urban scavengers). Unless you're willing to eat worms, grubs, roadkill, roots, and other gourmet fare, you're toast. And even then you will be – literally – spending every waking hour desperately searching for more worms, grubs, roadkill, and roots.

And that's in the summer months. What if it's winter?

It's certainly possible to live off the land, but it takes years of research, training, and preparation to do so. In 2019, I had the honor of interviewing (by email) a fellow by the name of Britt Ahart. This was a man of intimidating experience in bushcraft, wilderness survival, and primitive living. He came to the attention of the History Channel's reality TV show "Alone" and found himself braving the wilderness of Mongolia and Patagonia for months at a time, living off his wits and survival skills. Believe me, if anyone can bug out to the woods and survive, it's this man.

But for the rest of us, bugging out to the woods is nothing but a fantasy. I know if I read a fiction story in which the main character runs away from the Bad Guy by dashing into the woods, right away I know it's written by someone who has never dashed into the woods. The woods have no shelter. The woods have no food. The woods have no climate control. The protagonist will either be caught by the Bad Guy within minutes, or he'll spend anywhere from hours to days lost and terrified before succumbing to exposure.

In real life, bugging out to the woods is no better. Frankly it's a stoopid idea.

Okay, back to the list of recommended items for a bug-out bag. Some items are fine if you're going on a backpacking trip. Some, as you'll see, make sense in any kind of bag. Yet others are just plain ridiculous, and seem more like an excuse to buy a bunch of cool stuff.

Here's the list:

• Tweezers (yes, this was first on the list; no idea why)
• Money for purchases
• Goldbacks – money that is gold infused (more on this below)
• Pen and pencil, paper/notebook
• Lights, including solar lights
• Freeze-dried foods
• Map of area
• Compass
• Shovel (fold up)
• Spear
• Frog gig (3-pronged spear)
• Foil
• Whistle
• Toilet paper
• Cayenne pepper to stop bleeding
• Pads/gauze to wrap injuries
• Antibiotic ointment
• Cup with retractable handle
• Lifestraw
• Military sewing kit
• Vet wrap
• Poncho
• Glasses
• Sunscreen
• Heat packets for hands/feet/body
• Bandana (for straining water, among other things)
• Heat 32 (possibly a brand of thermal underwear, but it's never defined)
• Magnifying glass
• Fishing gear
• Multi-tool
• Stroller or stroller basket to carry backpack
• Rubber bands
• Candles
• Super Soaker
• Egg carton with lint with wax as fire starters
• Tiger Lady (a hand-held defense tool for close-up defense)
• Long knife with brass knuckles (?)
• Aluminum foil
• Potassium permanganate (presumably for use as a general disinfectant)
• Bell & Howell pen (a combination pen and flashlight)
• Flares
• Tarp
• Windproof lighter
• Signal mirror
• Extra ammo
• Solar backpack

See what I mean? Does this sound like you're going to need if you're escaping an earthquake or an economic collapse? Can we PLEASE get over the idea that we're all Rambos-in-waiting and can bug out to the woods where we'll gig frogs, fish, and spear game?

Conspicuously absent from the above list: Sleeping bag. Tent. A firearm (though, oddly, ammo is on the list). A change of clothes. Mosquito netting. Insect repellent.

You see, I knew this list was hooey the moment I saw Goldbacks, a spear, a frog gig, and a stroller for carrying the backpack. And a Super Soaker? What in tarnation?

Do you honestly think the average person will use a spear and a frog gig in the woods? Do you really think most woody terrain lends itself to a stroller? And what on EARTH do you need with a Super Soaker?

Don and I weren't even sure what Goldbacks were, so he looked them up. According to the website, "The Goldback® is the world's first physical, interchangeable, gold money, that is designed to accommodate even small transactions."

Basically it's make-believe money which contains a small amount of physical gold. Oh please. Someone makes fake money and expects you to be able to buy a burger and fries with it during a panicked bug-out situation?

Now let's examine the issue of destination. Without a destination in mind, bugging out is a really bad idea. Depending on the situation, your destination could be a motel in the next town over, your brother's house in the next state, or your fully equipped self-sufficient mountain homestead deep in the Rockies. Whatever it is, have a destination in mind – and a realistic means of getting there. If your bug-out is located 500 miles away, chances are very good you won't make it on foot (especially with the contents of the bag listed above).

Without a destination, what will you be doing with the contents of your bug-out bag listed above? Gigging for frogs, hoping to spear a deer, and begging a McDonald's restaurant to accept your Goldback® currency?

Maybe I'm being too harsh here. There are endless circumstances under which bugging out by foot may be the only option (and assuming it's not safer to hunker down and stay home). First and most obvious, not everyone has a car. Second, if the roads are impassable (landslides, bridge collapses, etc.), driving isn't an option. However if these dire situations come to pass, then I cannot fathom how a frog gig, a Super Soaker, Goldback® currency, and a spear will help you. Believe me, you'll have your hands full evacuating your children, elderly relatives, and pets to think about where you misplaced your frog gig.

None of this is to imply a bug-out bag isn't a good idea. In fact, it's a very good idea – but my advice is to skip the Super Soakers and frog gigs and concentrate on packing the critical items you'll need for both immediate requirements and long-term negotiation as you pull your life back together.

Let's say, for example, that you're evacuating before a wildfire. You won't be dodging zombies and camping in the wilderness while you trek through the woods to your rural cabin. Instead, you'll be fleeing what is presumably a rural or semi-rural area toward the assistance of other people, where (hopefully) your immediate needs of food, water, and shelter will be addressed. With that in mind, the importance of tents, sleeping bags, camp stoves, dehydrated food, and other camping supplies is significantly lower. The need for a Super Soaker, frog gig, and spear is practically zero.

Instead, your bug-out bag should contain what portable things you need – documentation that might help you get back on your feet and deal with banks, insurance agencies, and other bureaucratic necessities; and personal clothing and sanitation items to allow you some measure of comfort and dignity for a few days.

In other words, an evacuation bag is NOT the typical prepper zombie apocalypse bag pushed by so many survival websites.

Okay, rant over.

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UPDATE: Don added the following addendum to this rant:

Not exactly too sure what got this topic at the top of Patrice's rant list (you know ... women of a certain age and all...), but there are obviously a few other reasons to have bug-out bags.

For instance, a travel bag in your vehicle, especially for periods on inclement weather, is a really smart idea; particularly if, like us, you live in the boonies. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with an "every-day carry" bag. And a lot of my friends travel with a "Wow! That's a sweet stream – think I'll stop and drop a line in it" bag.

And if you're the "minute (wo)man" type who expects to be called away on emergencies – like assisting the police or peacefully thwarting the nefarious intentions of  the perpetually snowflake – a bag designed for that purposes is just fine.

But these types of bags are purpose-driven. If you're intention is to bug out to the undefined woods ahead of the Golden Horde like a modern-day Daniel Boone, bear in mind that Mr. Boone usually did his walk-abouts in the company of a pack train.

The members of the Lewis and Clark expedition, all of whom were experienced frontiersmen, nearly starved to death at least a couple of times. Without the no-doubt bemused assistance of several different tribes, history books would likely be referring to that particular endeavor as "the lost expedition of Lewis and Clark."

It all comes down to this. If you've got to run, be running toward something. Have a realistically reachable destination.

And don't EVER come as a surprise drop-in to someone else's "retreat." Just sayin'.

A flaw in bug-out plans

As you've probably noticed, there's a lot more chatter out there about bugging out to rural areas to escape crowded cities ravaged by the coronavirus.

Most people bug out to modest set-ups. People are staying with distant family members, or renting cabins, or finding Air BnB's, or otherwise doing what they can to keep their distance.

But one group of people who went through the time, effort, and expense of pre-establishing a rural bug-out are having a difficult time. I refer to the Super Rich.

As many know, the Super Rich are known for paying fabulous sums of money for extravagant bunkers in perceived safe locations (such as New Zealand). But for all their elaborate planning, it seems many of the Super Rich didn't factor in one obvious flaw: an inability to get to their bug-outs in the first place due to border closures or pilot shortages.

In one article entitled "Super rich stranded as private jet operators say no to travel," the article notes:

"Private jet operators are turning away wealthy clients as coronavirus-related travel bans restrict their ability to operate, despite a surge in requests from people willing to shell out as much as US$150,000 to secure a spot on their planes. Inquiries for international flights on private jets have shot up ninefold, said Kanika Tekriwal, founder of New Delhi-based JetSetGo, as individuals with vast financial means try to escape virus hot spots.

One of her clients, an Indian tycoon, tried to book a jet to fly with his family to New Delhi from London last weekend, but he remains stranded in the U.K. after a sudden travel suspension in a stopover country came in just half an hour before they were due to depart."

In another article titled "Rich Americans Activate Pandemic Escape Plans," the focus is also on New Zealand:

"Some Silicon Valley denizens have already made the move to New Zealand as the pandemic has escalated. On March 12, Mihai Dinulescu decided to pull the plug on the cryptocurrency startup he was launching to flee to the remote country. "My fear was it was now or never as I thought they might start closing borders," said Dinulescu, 34. "I had this very gripping feeling that we needed to go."

Dinulescu packed his bags and left his furniture, television, paintings and other belongings with friends. He bought the earliest plane ticket available and within 12 hours the Harvard University alum and his wife were on a 7 a.m. flight bound for Auckland. In San Francisco, "the entire international section of the airport was empty—except for one flight to New Zealand," Dinulescu said. "In a time when pretty much all planes were running on a third occupancy, this thing was booked solid. ... Four days later, New Zealand closed its borders to foreign travelers, which could thwart some refugee travel plans. ... After the shutdown was announced, however, local press reported a slight increase in private plane landings in the country."

I dunno, it just strikes me as odd that this most obvious weak spot was overlooked by people who presumably were smart enough to get rich in the first place. For a bug-out to be effective, you have to be able to get there. Go figure.

Personally I think it's a lot wiser to be among like-minded neighbors who are enthusiastic gardeners.

On the other hand, I've always wanted to visit New Zealand. I hear it's beautiful.

Escape from Portland

Portland is a big city. By Los Angeles or New York or Chicago standards, it’s probably regarded as a quaint town (it has a population of about 583,000); but to someone who hails from a remote farm four miles outside a town of 1000, it’s a huge city. Trust me on this.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great city. I love my annual trips to Portland. My friends live near the quirky eco-friendly burg of Woodstock. The surrounding neighborhoods are stately and gracious. The stores and shops are abundant and well-stocked. All in all, it’s a lovely part of Portland.

Like all outsiders who are easily bewildered by the maze of streets and highways of a strange city, I know my route to get to my friends’ house. And I can get from their house to the event site where I sell our tankards. And I can get back again. I’ve never gotten lost – exactly – but nor have I ever gone exploring either. In other words, I don’t know Portland very well.

It’s the sheer size that can seem overwhelming. And it occurred to me one day, as I drove to my friends’ house, that if a foot evacuation of this city should ever become necessary, it would be virtually impossible.

Portland is bracketed by enormous rivers, crossed at intervals by huge and impressive bridges. In the northwest, earthquakes are always a distinct possibility, and I’ve heard it said that Portland's bridges are old and not considered up to modern earthquake standards. In fact, apparently it’s spoken in hushed whispers about the possibility of the bridges topping into the rivers should the “big one” ever hit.

But it’s not just the potential for earthquakes, it’s the potential for any kind of urban chaos that might send its citizens fleeing. Quite literally, how could anyone leave the city by foot?

It would not be hard to walk out of Coeur d’Alene, the nearest big city to us. But Cd’A only has a population of about 35,000. A couple hours of sturdy hiking and you’re out in the countryside. But in all seriousness, it could take DAYS to walk out of Portland. And this assumes (a) the evacuee is not burdened down with possessions, small children, or anyone with limited mobility; or (b) the evacuee was not competing with aggressive elements determined to harm them. And of course, if someone is evacuating Portland by foot, aggressive elements are likely to be a huge factor.

In short, it was an uncomfortable mental exercise to think about bugging out by foot of a city the size of Portland. Then of course there’s the very real question of, where would they be bugging out TO?

Nor would bugging out in a vehicle necessarily be the answer. Vehicle evacuations seem like they would be easier, but this doesn’t mean trouble-free. While the evacuee is not faced with the difficulty of transporting children or those with limited mobility – and at least they wouldn’t have to be carrying their worldly possessions on their backs – there are other severe limitations. Cars must follow streets. All streets lead to highways. All highways lead to the natural bottlenecks of crossing the rivers. And everyone is limited by the size of their gas tank and the reliability of their engine.

See the problem?

This issue, of course, is not limited to Portland. There are nine cities in America with populations over 1,000,000 (NYC, LA, Chicago, Houston, Philadelphia, Phoenix, San Antonio, San Diego, Dallas). The logistics of evacuating such enormous and dense areas are mind-boggling.

I have no solution to these dilemmas. They’re just observations. But if the thought of what you might do in the face of urban chaos has ever gone through your head, now might be the time to start thinking through.

If you live in a large city and you faced the need to evacuate, how would you do it? I’d be interested in hearing everyone’s thoughts.

Guest post - Bugging Out to the Country

I have a guest post up on SurvivalMom.com blog called Bugging Out to the Country. Hop on over and take a look.