My bug-out bag

A bug-out bag, if you didn’t know, is “a portable kit that normally contains the items one would require to survive for seventy-two hours, when evacuating from a disaster.” (Wikipedia)

I keep my bug-out bag in the trunk of my car at all times. It takes up about a third of the space. Even though I live in one of the lowest-risk areas in the US for natural disasters, there’s an outside chance of a nuclear disaster upwind. It’s better to be prepared than not. Also, I can easily decide on the spur of the moment to go camping and not have to run home to gear up. There are things in the list I didn't fit in the photo:

Sleeping bag (a cheap one from my childhood, but it still works for most weather)
Pillow
Outerwear
Hiking boots
Bike helmet--nearly as good as a safety helmet for earthquakes
Backpack containing all the rest
Mylar blankets--two, with one for use as ground cover
First aid supplies, including a few aspirin, Benadryl, and Imodium I replace twice a year
Food
Water (more than shown!)
Water filtration device
Metal cup with handle (can serve as one-person saucepan)
Swiss Army Knife
Paracord (more than shown)
Magnesium fire-starter with whistle
Candles and matches
Duct tape
Survival fishing kit in film can: lead weights, hooks, safety pin, and coiled monofilament
Pad and pencil. Emergency phone numbers and addresses are written on the inside cover
Bandannas. (My readers will know my characters always have them! So do I.)
Brightly colored plastic bags--for trash and to help rescuers see me more easily.
Entertainments. When the SHTF, or any other time, I'm always up for a poker game

The items in bold/italic, I recommend. You can purchase them at Amazon, and I’ve included those links here.

As you can see, I didn’t run out and spend thousands of dollars on this gear. Some is old, some people gave me when I mentioned I was putting this together. The water filtration device, using technology developed in the Haiti earthquake, is new.

This Month in Natural Disaster History: Black Saturday Bushfires

I'm starting a new feature today. Once a month, I'll describe a natural disaster that happened in the past 150 years, with an anniversary in the current month.

All images, Wikipedia Commons

This month: Black Saturday Bushfires. Victoria, Australia, February 2009

The summer of 2009 was exceptionally hot and dry in Australia. Wildfires broke out here and there--but Australians of the bush expect some fires, and Australia's fire fighters do a fine job battling them. By February 7, the stage was set for worse. When the temperatures reached 46C (115F) and winds picked up to 100 kph, fire fighters were put on alert. And the fires came.

High winds tore down power lines, igniting the deadliest of the fires. Arsonists set others. A careless (or worse) smoker set another, and one was caused by the careless use of power tools.

Firestorms, in which the fire becomes its own violent weather system, ensued, giving rise to several firewhirls. Temperatures reached 800 C, and fire was evaporated from hoses and storage tanks, complicating fire-fighting efforts.

The fires burned for days in some places as fire fighters struggled to contain them. One fire fighter was killed when a tree fell on him. On the heels of the fires, looting began.  

Over 2,000 homes were burned, thousand of livestock were killed, and 173 people died in the fires, most in Kingslake, Strathewen, and Marysville. Most were killed inside their own homes. Some were burned to death in their cars while trying to flee the fire. This makes the 2009 bushfires the eighth deadliest wildfire, worldwide, in recorded history

RIP.

Sources: Wikipedia, various newspaper articles, TV documentary at www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpvM6FoUwMI

What natural disaster frightens you most?

From Wikipedia Commons

That's easy for me to answer: Wildfire. I was living in San Francisco when the Oakland wildfire of 1991 happened. I was entirely safe--there was a big body of water between me and it--but my heart was still pounding hard for hours. My logical mind could not convince my body that I was safe.

This was before the internet was anything but a few thousand nerds sending text over phone lines, I didn't own (and don't) a television, and I had no radio on, so the disaster made itself made aware to me directly. I was sitting and reading a novel in front of a window. Suddenly, the sky changed colors. The smoke cloud had dimmed the sun, coloring everything a strange burnt orange. I could hardly breathe--not because of the smoke, which was well above me, but because of the adrenaline surge. An animal urge to flee swept over me, and I had to hold on to my chair not to follow that imperative and run barefoot out of my house, trying to escape the danger. My body knew instinctively what it was. (Who knew that knowledge of wildfire was hardwired in humans, too?) I didn't have to see the flames or hear the crackling of popping trees or smell the smoke--I was still plenty scared.

It was hours before the adrenaline buzz left me, and the whole time, I thought, I'd take another Loma Prieta quake before this, any ol' day.

I also had a heart-in-throat moment the only time I saw a wedge tornado in the distance. They're mean-looking. (Beautiful, too, if kept at a distance.)

Earthquakes have been exhilarating to me. When they fade, the adrenaline rush is a positive one--like skydiving's rush or the rush I got scuba-diving when learning to doff and don. I don't mean to be insensitive to anyone who has lost a loved one in a quake, but for me, it's been a thrill ride every time. I hope I'm never in a situation where it's otherwise.

The only volcanic eruptions I've experienced have been St. Helens' minor ones from a distance (pretty, and safe if you're not right on top of it), and Kilauea (the kindest eruptions imaginable--slow-moving and lovely to view). I stood at the edge of the ocean, on the moving lava of Kilauea; as the red-hot lava at the leading edge of the flow hit the water, clouds of steam rained little glass shards over me, and it was beautiful and filled my heart with joy. I don't know that I've every felt more connected to Nature than at that moment.

I've been in three ex-hurricanes (2014, in Arizona, which should be against the law or something--seriously, Arizona? Hurricanes?) which had no more wind than any other rain storm, but I've never been in a real, powerful hurricane at its peak. They sure look scary. I've been hit by a downburst of over 100mph, while in an RV--that was a little worrisome, but it was over with in a couple minutes, and the RV was still upright, much to my surprise.

For real terror, for me, it's wildfire. I'll no doubt write a novel about wildfire within the next three years--but I suspect it'll upset me to write it, to mentally put myself into the midst of the smoke and flames.

How about you? Through personal experience, or what you've seen on the news, which natural disaster frightens you the most?