Folks, it ain’t gonna happen. Maybe you think I’m being a bit quirky, but I strongly believe that it would be a blatant crime and the worst thing that I, a wilderness survival instructor, could do. The personal survival kit is … well, it’s personal. If you buy a pre-made kit, intended for the masses, how personal is that? Save some dollars, use some sense, be creative, and design your own. Make it personal.
Over the years, especially in the role of a Boy Scout Wilderness Survival Merit Badge Counselor, I’ve had the opportunity to peruse hundreds of personal survival kits. Showing up with such a kit is one of the requirements a Scout must do to earn the badge. Additionally, the Scout must explain its contents and the usefulness of each item within, as pertaining to wilderness survival. Evaluating a Scout’s personal survival kit is serious business. And at times, quite humorous.
Imagine this scenario. It’s Sunday morning, Day Two of a wilderness survival training course for Scouts. I’m kicked-back in a camp chair, having my morning coffee. Before me stands a line of boys, ages 10-16. Some waiting nervously, some waiting and wishing they weren’t standing there. All waiting a turn to speak to me about their personal survival kit. Scout leaders and other adult volunteers are gathered near to watch and listen.
“Let’s do it!“ I holler. “Boy number one, front and center.”
The first young man walks quickly to me, a smile from ear to ear. He holds out a zip-lock gallon baggie, so crammed you couldn’t fit a toothpick in it. I say to the boy, “Empty the bag. Right here on the ground.” He looks at me like I’m out of my mind. “Please, do it, now,” I explain. The boy, his smile gone, begrudgingly prys his stuff free, gingerly placing the items on the ground.
“Next Scout! Front and center!” I shout.
The first Scout now gives me his best “what-about-me, you asshole” look. The second boy hands me a red and white checkered metal suitcase. About the size intended for a week-long visit with relatives. “Could you open it, please?” I ask. He can’t. For some reason it is locked and he hasn’t a clue where the key is. I turn to the adults and ask if there is a locksmith in the crowd.
“Next Scout, please,” I shout. Now two boys are giving me their “what-about-me, you asshole” looks. The third Scout approaches and hands me a Neoprene liter-size water bottle stuffed with stuff. Attached to the lid hangs a tag, labeled ‘Contents assembled by Big Rick’s Outdoors Store.’ A $21.95 price sticker is affixed to the side of the bottle. “Tell me what’s in here,” I say as I hold up the bottle, peering at its contents. He replies, “I don’t know. My Mom bought it for me so I would have it this weekend.” Honest little rascal. Looking over at the first boy I say, “Now, let me see you put all that stuff back in the baggie.” He begins to cry. Holy Baden-Powell.
I could go on and on. But, the gist of this scenario raises an important question: How are you going to organize and carry your personal survival kit? Maybe in a baggie … a suitcase … in a water bottle … maybe, in a plastic box intended for a bar of soap … an Altoid tin … a small day pack … a vest … in your pants pockets … or a fanny pack.
It is intended and recommended that a personal survival kit be on your person at all times in the wilderness … or, at most, an arm’s-lenth distance from your person. The kit must be near. Accessible. Where you can find it when you need it. And, it must be easily carried and dispersed appropriately. Think fanny pack or vest or use various containers attached to a web belt or harness. You can even utilize a combination of these methods.
Another reason I won’t offer for sale a personal survival kit is because I don’t want folks to think that the kit they purchase is all they’ll need and that it is complete and able to solve their emergency needs no matter where they go. Remember. A personal survival kit must be changed and adapted to the particular region of the world you are in or going to. If going to an arid region, pull out the fish hooks and put in plenty of plastic bags to make transpiration devices. Adapt the kit. Refresh the kit. Know exactly what’s in it. Whether in the wilderness, in a small plane, at open sea in a boat, in a car traveling in winter conditions, or in a desert region. Wherever. Pack a kit and be prepared.
You do not have to be a survival expert, nor a rocket scientist, to create a personal survival kit. Just begin by using the following list of seven survival priorities; then, throw in a few other items. Things that will make you happy to have. Your goofy shit.
Priority One. Positive mental attitude (PMA). What can you put in your kit, personally speaking, that will promote PMA and give you utmost faith until rescue is achieved? A photo of a loved one that you can hold, look at, and say outloud, “I’m coming back to you! I can do it, no matter what!” Maybe a religious reading. A small survival manual. A juicy letter from your girlfriend or boyfriend. Your favorite yo-yo or frisbee. Maybe a soccer ball. For immediate rescue, a deck of cards to play solitaire. Someone will for sure come up to you and tell you which card to play where.
Priority Two. Wilderness first aid. This is a no-brainer. Bundle up some first aid supplies in a soft-kit, not a hard container. Enough for you and a couple of other people. Ask yourself what injuries could occur in the wilderness or during a wilderness survival emergency? Think hard. Go over your entire body, from your feet to your head. Cuts, burns, sprains, blisters, sunburn, insect bites, smoke in the eyes … the list goes on. Now, satisfy the potential injuries you thought of with your personal choice of supplies. And, don’t forget your prescribed medications. Have enough with you so you won’t freak when the pills run low.
Priority Three. Shelter. Be prepared to build a good emergency shelter for yourself and for others. Maybe there will be a patient also to shelter and tend to. Know how to build a shelter that can offer personal protection from rain, wind, and snow. A shelter that can be built in five minutes. A future blog, titled ‘Bombproof Hooch’ will provide enlightening details. Put a 9’x12’ plastic dropcloth (.7 mil.) and 30-feet of parachute cord in your kit. And, throw in a six-pack. A six-pack of titanium stakes.
Priority Four. Fire. The ability to start and maintain a fire quickly and successfully is critical in a wilderness emergency, especially when hypothermic conditions exist. It is also the claim-to-fame of an outstanding wilderness person. Shoot fire, put a flamethrower in your kit. Eight hundred Bic lighters. Four hundred safety matches with their tips coated in parafin. Five Duraflame logs. Three bottles of lighter fluid. To save room, you might want to disregard all those items. Just do what I do. Put a baggie containing twenty-five Vasoline-soaked cotton balls in your kit. And, put in a kick-ass ferrocerium fire starter with an attached metal strike blade. If you really want to get bodacious, put in another baggie containing some lighter pine.
Priority Five. Signaling. Though I’m sure you’ll do as I recommend and always have on your person, when in the wilderness, a whistle and mirror, go ahead and put another whistle and mirror in your kit. Who knows, you may have a companion with you that will need one. And, if your environment dictates, add a flare or three.
Priority Six. Water. Always be aware that you’ll be weaker than a chain-smoking chihuahua and dizzier than Ruth Buzzy if you haven’t had any water during a three-day period. You’ll also be severely dehydrated. Definitely, your PMA will be NMA (no mental attitude). Be skilled at locating, procuring, and purifying water. And, don’t be an idiot and drink your piss. If there’s a camel nearby, drink his. Water purification tablets or drops are essential to have in your kit. Iodine or chlorine. Your preference. A SteriPen or a LifeStraw portable water filter are nice to have in your kit also. Don’t forget to include spare batteries for the SteriPen. Put in a container to hold water, such as a Platypus bag. Or, if you’re old-school, a condom. Preferrably non-lubricated. And, how are you going to boil water for purification purposes or make hot tea or soup, if needed? A lot of survival instructors say to look around and locate litter; that maybe there will be a useable can nearby your position. I’ve got nothing against a survivor being resourceful, but that’s horseshit. Put a military-style canteen cup in your personal survival kit. Then, pack smart and put stuff in the cup. Remember. There are territories on earth that are considered waterless: oceans and deserts. If it rains at sea, will you have a device, such as a piece of plastic, to catch rainwater? Will there be a desalination kit aboard? In the desert, will you need fishhooks or plastic?
Priority Seven. Food. Not a big deal until about week two in a survival situation. Eat bugs, six legs or less, and stay away from berries, plants, and mushrooms. Put a three-day supply of commercial jerky, power bars, trail mix, tea, Lipton soup packets, etc. in your kit. Red licorice. Slim Jims. Whatever trips your trigger. Remember. If you have no water, skip the food.
Done. The priorities are satisfied. Now, let’s add some goofy shit. A knife. With multiple blades. A multi-use tool, such as a Leatherman. Definitely some duct tape. Not the whole roll. Wind some around a pencil. Then, put the pencil and a small notepad in a baggie. Then, put a another baggie in the baggie. Just wait, I’ll explain. You now have duct tape in your kit. That’s good for a bunch of reasons. You also now have a pencil in your kit. You can record data on your notepad. You can keep a journal. And, even write a hit song to combat boredom. You also now have the means to leave a message for rescuers, if you depart the area for whatever the reason. Write your name and the name of anyone else in your party on a piece of paper, the health and well-being of each individual, and the direction you are heading and why. Put the note in the extra baggie, seal it with duct tape, and tape it to an object in a prominent location where it can be found. Back to more goofy shit. A small roll of pink surveying tape to mark a path. A flashlight or headlamp with spare batteries. The kitchen sink. I’m sure you get my drift by now. Add anything else that will make your personal survival kit appropriate, beneficial, and a humdinger. One other thing that’s not so goofy and you don’t normally “see” on a list of items to put in a kit. Spare eyeglasses or contacts, if needed. Me, if my glasses get broke, crushed, or lost … well, just call me Mr. Magoo.
The personal survival kit is a good thing if done right. Don’t be a clown and leave it in town.
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