|I have been waiting for the end of the world since I read Atlas Shrugged in 1966. We had freeze-dried food in boxes and cartons in 1980. A year after 9/11, I was standing around with some other security guards on break at the home office and they were comparing their duty bags. A supervisor laughed, "You are not going to get stuck out in the desert. You're going to be trapped in an elevator." He produced a 6-inch pry bar. But what did it for me was flying.|
I met my flight instructor at the local airport one winter night and the place was closed. The plane had not been fueled. No one was around. We called off the lesson, of course, but more to the point, I realized that if I landed somewhere like this, I would be literally out in the cold. I began to give my flight bag more thought.
When I worked for Coin World they provided four Monday sessions of team building exercises. The last was a scenario in which we crashed on an island flying home from a vacation in Latin America. The pilot was dead, but we were uninjured. The plane was unflyable but largely intact. We had an inventory of stuff. I was shocked and dismayed at how uninformed and unprepared my co-workers were. At the end of the day, they gave us the official US Army Ranger Answers.
You need to make a fire; and you need a knife. If nothing else, you need those. You need to keep dry and warm. You need to stay where you are for 72 hours, then find a way out.
I keep two go-bags. One is my flight bag. The other is my security kit. Fire starters, knives, multi-tools, signal mirrors, binoculars, radios, ponchos, reflecting blankets, chord and rope and string, fishing hooks, corks and sinkers, aspirin, band aids, bandages, tapes, calculators, slide rule, protractor, ... reflecting safety vest, kevlar gloves, earplugs, sunglasses, sun screen, lotion, ball caps, ...
Having traveled a bit too much over the last three or four years, we have another RubberMaid tub with first aid and toiletries.