We Used to Shoot Looters – Now we give them “space.” – T.P.
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Happy May Day! Communism Killed 94 Million In The 20th Century . G.S.
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The Threat to Melt the Electric Grid. – G.G. (Site requires subscription)
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For those who like the 1911 platform – The .45 caliber pistol. Still in the running for a brand new military contract.. – T.P.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, Speak unto Aaron and to his sons, that they separate themselves from the holy things of the children of Israel, and that they profane not my holy name in those things which they hallow unto me: I am the Lord.” Leviticus 22:1-2 (KJV)
May 1st is the birthday of the late Joel Rosenberg, a Canadian-born novelist and gun rights advocate (born 1954, died June 2, 2011). He is not to be confused with Joel C. Rosenberg (born 1967), who is another great novelist and the author of The Last Jihad series.
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Today, we present another entry for Round 58 of the SurvivalBlog non-fiction writing contest. The $12,000+ worth of prizes for this round include:
First Prize:
Second Prize:
Third Prize:
Round 58 ends on May 31st, so get busy writing and e-mail us your entry. Remember that there is a 1,500-word minimum, and that articles on practical “how to” skills for survival have an advantage in the judging.
Do you recall the frog in that joke about how you boil a frog and the answer is by slowly turning up the heat? It’s done that way because he doesn’t notice the heat until it’s too late to jump. Let me tell you the story of how that frog joke relates to me.
The second ice storm hit a few days ago– two days after the first one. The first one was a pretty inconvenience. Schools were closed for the day; we had a day off work; the freezing rain, which coated the branches and power lines, shone like diamond lace in a warming morning sun. People cheerfully went outside to enjoy the wonderful world of ice, sliding gracefully on large patches of ice on the traffic-less roads and taking pictures of the shining canopy of ice hanging delicately in the trees. People took pictures to show those who would not believe the ethereal world we enjoyed that morning. By afternoon, it had melted in the mid-January thaw.
The second storm shrink-wrapped our world in layers and layers of thick, heavy freezing rain. Three inches of ice sat on top of the stop sign on the corner, not the 4×4 post that the sign was attached to but the actual 1/8 of an inch wide sign. This ice destroyed stuff. It tore down power lines and crushed and twisted the towers like cheap beer cans. It ripped foot-thick branches from the biggest trees and bent the smaller ones down into the streets like a bow. It caved in the roofs of garages, sheds, and many older homes that couldn’t take the weight. The roads that were not blocked were worse than skating rinks. Cars, trucks, and vans filled the ditches on both sides. People grimly surveyed their surroundings and took pictures to show the insurance company.
The second ice storm left much of eastern Canada– an area as big as from Chicago to New York and Detroit to Atlanta– sealed, cut off, and vulnerable. Then, it got cold, and people got scared.
We had the hobby farm and were lucky enough to be at it when the second storm hit. We left the city after the first storm, because Sue wanted pictures of the forested hill behind the house, “It will be spectacular– a crystal forest!”
Waking up to our rooster crowing before dawn on the morning after the second storm, I didn’t know what time it was. The clock radio was out.
“The power is off.”
“It’ll come back on soon,” Sue’s voice was muffled by the blankets she was curled-up in. “Is the heat on? It’s cold in here.”
“Nope. The power’s out.”
“Hummpphhh. Can you pass me my socks?”
I was looking out of the window. We had no electrical power. No one did. It was dark outside. There was black, everywhere. No lights at all. It wasn’t that we had no power. It was that there was no power anywhere to be had. I fumbled around for the flashlight, looking in the drawer, the shelf, the closet, stubbing my toe, and finally found it– a lantern-style that cast a pale glow a whole four feet. It was better than nothing.
Under that weak light, I got a fire going. We had the wood stove– a big Vermont Castings Defiant—85,000 BTUs, with a cook-top and a glass door that allowed firelight to brighten the room. A checklist was beginning to form in my mind. We had twenty cords of kindling and firewood, two good axes, a hatchet, and a couple of buck saws. Heat was not a problem. Coffee would be good, though. Water…. Oh, well, guess they’ll be no coffee.
I went to the barn with our two Akitas and slipped and fell on my way there on the ice. I hurt my shoulder but not too bad and made a mental note to spread de-icer and sand on the pathways.
The animals were fine. It was warm in the manger. We had a small herd consisting of cows, pigs, sheep, and horses as well as a flock of chickens and turkeys. I fed our herd but kept them in the barn. I didn’t want them slipping on the ice.
Walking back to the house, I saw the firelight through the windows. It was nice. While spreading de-icer and sand, I worked on the rest of my checklist: a freezer and cold-room full of food, pots and pans, buckets, extra gas and diesel, the generator, the old sleigh and dog-sled to travel, and so on.
I entered the woodshed and could smell that Sue was cooking bacon and eggs. I fed the dogs. They looked at their kibble and then sniffed the bacon, giving me an accusatory look. Sue had the generator going. We had water and some power. Coffee! I was very pleased and said, “Good wife.” She laughed but still threatened me with her paring knife. We were fine; we had nothing to worry about.
The kids bounded downstairs and joined in the fun of adding wood to the fire, cooking on the woodstove, and eating a good breakfast. “It’s like camping,” said our oldest, Morgan. We listened to the solar, dynamo radio and received reports of widespread damage, lots of injuries, roads closed, power lines toppled, no electrical power, phones out, suggestions to wear warm clothing, use candles, crack a window, stay indoors, and so on.
“Dad, how long will this last?” our daughter Sheila asked.
“Shouldn’t be more than a couple of days.”
“Do you really think so? The guy on the radio said the power system was down and destroyed.”
“Well, don’t worry we’ll be okay. We’ve got the wood stove and lots of wood, the generator and lots of fuel, and lots of food. We’ll be fine. It’ll be like in pioneer times, 100 years ago.”
“No Internet?”
“Not for a while.”
We got organized and fell into a routine of bringing in lots of firewood, having hot water and a soup or stew heating on the stove, hauling lots of water (using the dogsled to transport the buckets) to the barn for the animals, and monitoring the generator.
Other chores had to be done as well. We cut down the broken and bent tree branches around the house, barn, and sheds. We cleared the trees from the driveway so we could make it to the road and made minor repairs to the sleigh. (Fortunately, the harnesses were in very good shape.) Morgan and I worked outside all day.
Sue was in the house cooking and cleaning almost all of the time. Our daughter, Sheila, helped, because it was a two person job to prepare the food, cook the food, clean up after the meal, do the laundry, hang the clothes on the line, keep the fire going, and keep the generator going.
On the second day, the temperature dropped. Smoke rose in a single, thin line high into the sky from our chimney. Our neighbours were out checking on the folks nearby and sharing news about what was happening. It seemed everyone in our neighborhood was okay. The neighborhood was full of fairly self-sufficient farmers who were adjusting fairly easily to mid-19th century living.
“It’s rough in the city though,” said Mark, an electrician who lived next door and looked after our farm during the week. “Radio says that many people are suffering from the cold and have no food.” His wife, Karen, said her sister and her family were coming out to stay with them when the roads were safe. Sue said that we were in pretty good shape and, “if you need anything, just holler.” Since the phones were out, we all chuckled at that.
John and Carol from across the road were having trouble with their generator– a Coleman Powermate made in Kearny, Nebraska. It’s a good machine but not made for our weather; it was too cold for it. Mark and I walked over to see what we could do to help out. We managed to figure out a way to keep the generator going and adapted the fuel line to draw from a larger container of fuel so it would run for more than an hour. Mark wired their panel so they could run some things. “The furnace would be good,” shouted a parka-wearing Carol from the kitchen. We all got together that afternoon for an early dinner. We ate chile, homemade bread, and canned pears with fresh whole milk. We listened to the radio and talked about how this situation might become a problem for many who were not prepared.
By the third day we heard vehicles– 4x4s with good clearance and big snow tires– on the road. We carefully drove the five miles into the town near our farm, staring at the vehicles in the ditches that were shrouded in ice. We stopped counting at 20. Stores and gas stations were closed; there was no power. Banks had hand-printed signs in their windows saying they were closed but that a toll-free customer service number was available. In response, someone had taped up their own sign, which read “The ****ing phones are out!!” We parked at the bank and walked around to see what was going on.
People were out walking around, clustering together, anxiously talking about what was happening. Rumours filled the air about how things were in the city. They’d heard that people were hungry and cold, most streets were too dangerous to travel on because of the ice or downed trees; there had been break-ins and some looting; and the cops were out in full force but had extreme difficulty moving around with the roads being impassable. We turned and went back to our vehicle. As we drove out of town, people turned to stare at our truck, amazed and a little jealous that we could move around so easily.
The fourth and fifth days we stayed at the farm, not by choice. We all had to work, all of us, all day long, just to eat, drink, and get the chores done. Living this way was hard work and very tiring. We were all eating a lot. Sue and Sheila could barely keep up. Karen’s sister Wendy had arrived with her husband Peter and family. They had nothing, and since Karen and Mark didn’t have enough food stored away we were feeding them as well. I checked our freezer, cold room, and pantry. Worried, I walked to the barn, got a salt block, and carried it up to the forested hill behind out house, near the cedars and orchard, where the deer came to feed.
The sixth day we went back into town. The ditches were still full of vehicles. The stores were still closed, and the gas stations had signs up that read “NO GAS!!” The pumps were smashed. Morgan said it was a bat or sledgehammer. Sheila said it was a person. Both were right. The bank was closed, but a window had been smashed. It was wide open but still closed, observed Sheila.
Someone ran up to us saying, “Hey, can you drive us to the city?” “A hundred bucks!” they added hopefully. I shook my head and said I didn’t have the fuel. “At least you have a truck.” It sounded like an accusation and a little like a threat, but I thought it was the rueful comment of a cold, tired, and hungry guy. Still though, for some reason, I drove south out of town rather than north, where our farm is. Sheila said, “This is smart, Dad. They won’t know where we live.”
That night, our dogs barked, and it is rare for an Akita to bark unless there is some real reason. I went downstairs, half-asleep. The barking stopped. In the sheer quiet, I woke up. Hearing a growl and a scream, I ran down the stairs, grabbing the hatchet by the woodstove.
Our dogs were standing, fully bristled, out past the woodshed near the driveway. A flat-bed pickup was skewering down our icy laneway, and a guy in the flatbed was holding on for his life.
It took me a moment to realize that I couldn’t hear the generator. I looked around frantically, flipping the outside light switch on out of habit. I saw the generator in the laneway on its side, but it seemed fine. The chain had been cut, and there was some torn denim nearby. The denim had a Levis’ tag on it. It seems one or both dogs bit the guy in the butt as he was making off with our generator! As I laughed, I shrugged this off as a desperate but foolhardy act.
The next day, we had no choice. We needed supplies and had to go into the city. Morgan, Kiko, and I went into the city. We made several stops, buying groceries, camping supplies, fuel, and other items. Heading back out of the city, we went to a Home Depot to buy hand tools. Driving in we noticed a mob out front. A transport truck had delivered generators, and people were buying them right off the truck. As we slowed to park, we could hear a store manager using a loudspeaker and pitifully explaining that the truck brought only 45 generators. Hundreds of people were there, and they became enraged. Two cops were there as a precaution, but they could not stop the mob.
People who bought a generator could not get out of the mob. Desperate men were offering two and three times the retail price to those lucky enough to have bought a generator. Others were threatening those who had a generator. Fights broke out; men fell to the ground, bleeding, limp, and silent. Groups of men engaged each other in a melee. Both cops fell to the ground.
I tried to drive the truck around the mob. A small group of men saw our fully-loaded truck and surrounded us. They carried baseball bats; one had a knife; one had an axe.
While Kiko growled, I could hear my son’s thin voice ask, “Dad, what do we do?”
This is what that frog must feel like. Since the second storm we had had a hard but fairly comfortable lifestyle on our little farm. The small warning signs were not heeded; they were ignored as pitiable acts by a few lunatics. This danger was so immediate and real it shocked me like a touch of frozen iron.
The men wanted our gear and were reaching for it. I yelled to get away from the truck! The clubs rose and fell denting our truck. The man in front lifted his axe. I did not stop the truck. I held my son’s head down and drove my Ram 2500 4×4 with a fender high bush bar right at him. He swung the axe clanging off the bush bar. He was hit and spun to the ground. One guy held onto the box of the truck. I hit the brakes and then spun the wheel while accelerating wildly. We shook him off and got out of Dodge.
Mark, John, Peter, and I talked about this long into the night. Peter, who had had pavement under his feet his whole life, couldn’t believe it. He kept saying, “Civilization is not over!” Mark, John, and I thought differently, and we acted.
The fallen trees made a convenient barricade that had the advantage of being fully camouflaged. From the road, all of our laneways curved up to our homes through stands of hardwoods and cedars. We dragged the broken trees into our lanes, making an effective screen in every sense of the word.
We traveled by foot, skis, dog-sleds, or sleigh over the fields in the waning light of dawn and dusk. Our newly-formed paths could not be seen from the road, but we still had to be careful. We could not do without fires or generators, which caused a major problem– we could be seen from a distance. Our house was the biggest and with the most food and fuel, so we all decided to move into it. It was crowded but more efficient and safer.
We moved the usable supplies from the other places and then checked on them daily. The tree barricades worked, thankfully. No new tracks were in the laneways. We kept watch; someone was always awake and alert. We patrolled day and night with the dogs, baby monitors for communication, and the one shotgun we had. (We kept the rifle in the kitchen.) Canadian gun control laws were no longer seen as a blessing. We took shifts, and even Peter recognized the need for security. Six days after our reorganization, Mark heard trucks coming down the road. The baby monitor crackled a warning, and Sue yelled out to John, Peter, myself, and our boys. We all grabbed our gear and went to the barricade.
Sounds travel a long way when it is so quiet and so cold. We waited and listened to the trucks approaching. We heard them slow down as they passed Mark and Karen’s and then again at John and Carol’s. They stopped at our laneway. There was silence for a moment, and then we heard a guy yell, “I’m telling you, this is the place! I saw him in town a few days ago in his truck.” The trucks proceeded up the laneway.
They pulled apart our barricade.
Peter whispered, “Maybe they just want supplies.”
“Maybe,” said Mark.
The trucks came up the laneway. We had chopped two troughs in the laneway. Into each trough we placed a long log sawn in half lengthwise. The log ran from treeline to treeline. We poured water along the logs’ sides to freeze them into place. We placed the vertical sides facing each other with the round sides facing up and down the laneway. To get in or out, we could simply place another log, sawn in half lengthwise, beside these anchored logs, and the vehicle could drive over the wooden speed bump.
However, with the logs so placed, we created a space just long enough for a truck to get stuck between the 8” high vertical sides of these wooden curbs; the stuck truck couldn’t get up enough momentum on the icy surface to jump over the curb.
The first truck got stuck between the logs. Eight men poured from the trucks. I yelled out,
“You guys make fine targets.” They looked around but couldn’t see us for the trees.
The leader yelled back, “We don’t want any trouble. We need food.”
Mark looked at me, warning me. “We shot a deer yesterday. We’ll give you some meat. Get in your trucks and back down the laneway. Wait by the road. We’ll put it and your stuck truck by the hole you cleared out for us in those trees back there.”
“How will you get it out?”
Mark whispered, “They’re not so concerned about the food now!”
“You don’t need to worry about that. Just get in your trucks and get going.”
“You can’t stop us all.”
“No, but we can stop you. And you with the red hat. And you with the blue scarf. And the dogs will get you in the long coat.”
They left, grumbling. We put the venison in the truck and drove it down to the barricade. Mark was riding shotgun. The men were waiting by the road.
“Send one man up to get the truck.”
A small guy–the man who wanted a ride to the city–came up the lane. We melted into the trees. Looking around fearfully, he quickly jumped in the truck and drove away. They all left heading back towards town.
The next day– 13 days after the second storm– we heard several very large trucks coming down the road. We manned our hastily rebuilt barricade and saw a huge five ton monster of a truck coming up the laneway.
At the barricade, a burly young man, dressed all in white, got out of the truck and yelled, “Captain, should we pull this apart or cut through it? It looks man-made.” He turned towards the barricade. I saw the Maple Leaf on his shoulder. The army was here checking on us to make sure we were safe.
HJL,
I travel via motorcycle. I always carry a cheap $20 Cold Steel Kukhri. I’ve carried it in Mexico, Canada, and in several countries in southern Africa and South America. As it is seen around the world as a utility knife used by many of the locals, its presence has never been questioned. I carry the cheap one just in case it gets confiscated. Because weight is always an issue, I cut a hex hole in the blade that fits the big hex nut on my rear axle. Because of this I don’t need to carry another big heavy wrench just for that one big but important nut.
At one US-Canada border, they questioned my 3″ Spyderco pocketknife but not the Kukhri. – J.H.
Citibank Buys $1Billion in Gold From Venezuela. Maduro’s cash-strapped regime is so desperate for revenue that they’ve agreed to pawn 1.4 million ounces of gold, which amounts to $714 per ounce. – H.L.
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Items from Mr. Econocobas:
U.S. GDP Gained A Sluggish 0.2% In First Quarter 2015
US Homeownership Rate Drops To 1983 Levels: Here’s Why
America’s Student Debt Pain Threatening a Corner of Bond Market
Bird flu epidemic becoming critical. – B.B.
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NSA veteran chief fears crippling cyber-attack on Western energy infrastructure. – B.B.
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Hillary Equates Gun Owners With Terrorists, Says They Are “Prone to Violence.”. – D.S.
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A SurvivalBlog reader wrote in to tell us that there is a couple giving away their 20 acre goat farm in Alabama to the winner of an essay contest. Their intent is to move to Central America to assist missionaries in establishing goat farms there. There is a news story on it, too.
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You know how historical soft body armor succumbed to the historical crossbow, but how about their modern equivalents? 3 min. Video: Modern Crossbow vs. Level IIIA Body Armor Panel
“When you’ve crawled through the darkness, the light is so much more glorious.” ? Rita Stradling, The Lie Spinners
Today is the birthday of sci-fi novelist Larry Niven (born April 30, 1938). Along with Jerry Pournelle, he co-authored the survivalist classic Lucifer’s Hammer. April 30th is also the birthday of Ed Yourdon, who was born in 1944.
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Today, we present another entry for Round 58 of the SurvivalBlog non-fiction writing contest. The $12,000+ worth of prizes for this round include:
First Prize:
Second Prize:
Third Prize:
Round 58 ends on May 31st, so get busy writing and e-mail us your entry. Remember that there is a 1,500-word minimum, and that articles on practical “how to” skills for survival have an advantage in the judging.
Glass-breaking is a function about which I keep hearing but don’t fully understand outside a military situation. I assume it refers to evacuating a car after an accident or other emergency. My problem with this is that almost nobody wears their survival knife on the way to and from work. If the knife is in the trunk with your BOB, how is it going to help? In a military scenario, I can see rescuing aircrew from a downed chopper; however, that situation is very different from what we’re likely to face. In the military, you have your gear on your person so your knife will be handy. Aircraft canopies are made of a plexiglass material, so I doubt it breaks like glass anyway. Egress from an automobile in an emergency would need to be executed with whatever is anchored within reach of the driver, which probably means something fixed to the dashboard or in a console compartment. Given the limited room involved, the tool will not likely be a survival knife. More likely, a folding blade knife with a “glass-break” tip on the handle or similar tool will be used. Therefore, I see this as a survival function but not the function of a survival knife, if you can see the difference.
Defending yourself with a knife is a subject well beyond this article. A couple of points for new folks: First, you must understand that in a fight, the guy who has trained and practiced will beat the guy who hasn’t, period. The weapoon is immaterial. If you have never had any training in this area, you might want to get some. If you have had some training, then you already know the general parameters of the weapon on which you trained. Use that weapon. Familiarity and muscle memory will beat new and cool every time. Will a kukhri beat a Bowie? That’s the wrong question! Which guy knows what he’s doing better? So, either find a knife you like and get trained on that weapon or get some general training and then get a weapon which fits your training. Back in the day, bigger was better. That’s not so today, based on your training.
The subject of defense would not be complete without discussing the improvised spear. What I refer to here is lashing or otherwise affixing your knife to a sapling pole to create an ad-hoc spear. Since no one I know practices spear techniques for defense against people, I will defer to our previous discussion. The practical side of this I can see would be defense against animals. Wild hogs are thick and ugly where I live. If I had to face a hog without a firearm, a spear would be my next choice. I can see a similar issue in areas with big cats or wolves. My concern with the concept is the actual lashing. Many knives have touted their abilities as spears. Most have holes at various points to enable lashing to a pole. The problem is that most people cannot tie the knife securely enough to a pole to prevent loss of the knife once you jab the animal in question. Once you lose your knife, all you have is an unsharpened stick. This leaves you in something less than an enviable position. I have not made this issue one of the decision criteria for my carry knife. If, in your evaluation of your situation, you see the spear concept as necessary, then select a knife with multiple attachment points and have the proper cord available. Then practice it and check how secure the knife is. Practice some more, and check again. Or maybe just go with a sharpened stick and keep your knife on your belt.
Skinning and processing wild game is an important skill you need to practice. Large animals, like elk and moose, lend themselves to the use of a large knife. Small game, like rabbits and squirrels, though need a small- to medium-sized blade. Conflicting requirements? Yes, but there is a solution.
General cutting chores around camp include such actions as cutting string and cord, meal preparation (outside of processing game), cutting material for repairs, cutting bandages, slicing bread, spreading peanut butter, and just about anything else you do with a knife that has not been covered elsewhere. Most of these chores can be accomplished with any size of knife, as long as it is sharp. So while your knife will do a lot of work in this category, it is probably not one upon which to base your decision. I recommend going camping for the weekend to see all the things you do with a knife; then evaluate your potential choices in light of this. If you already have a survival knife, how often did you choose to use something else for cutting? Why? What did you do that was better done with a longer blade? What did you do that was better done with a shorter or thinner blade? How can you resolve these issues in your situation?
Somewhere between the last two categories comes preparing fish. Most folks immediately jump to the classic filet knife with its long, thin, flexible blade. While excellent for fileting fish, this type of knife is generally not very useful in many other functions. Don’t worry; many other knife blade styles will work adequately. The Scandinavian Mora-style blades are traditionally only about 4” long and stiff rather than flexible, yet their fishermen have used them for centuries. I fileted a crappy once with a Ka-Bar. It’s not pretty but functional. Unless you anticipate eating fish almost exclusively, this is probably not a decision criterion for new folks.
Chopping, hacking, and splitting are all different functions that often get lumped together. We will define chopping here to be the cutting in the classic “V” shape and requiring multiple strokes of the blade. Chopping of vegetables for food preparation or small branches with one stroke is not what we are talking about. When on the trail away from your retreat or in a more everyday survival situation, chopping is not an activity you should do a lot. It simply expends too much energy. Sawing is a much better answer. Generically, chopping requires a heavy head, like an axe. No knife blade is really a good axe, although a kukhri is a very functional chopper. This is the category where blades other than knives come into use. Blades such as machetes, hatchets, tomahawks, and shingle hatchets make much better choppers than virtually any knife. Even the largest Bowie-style Rambo knife just does not have enough weight or leverage behind the cutting blade for efficient chopping. That being said, the size of the material you are chopping really determines the blade you need to chop it. What are your likely situations? I have used a kukhri, a machete, and a shingle hatchet for chopping duties while camping over the years. I still own them all, but I don’t carry them hiking. The machete is in my truck, because I use it all the time while the others are at home. In the areas I go, I don’t anticipate a major chopping requirement. If you do, you should consider a tomahawk, machete, or kukhri.
Splitting typically requires a heavy, wide blade. Splitting firewood on the trail is typically not an issue, since if you have a fire it should be small. Small pieces of wood can be split effectively with a Ka-Bar or similar knife if you feel the need. I have used my machete for splitting wood for various projects but obviously not on big logs. Splitting cattails, yucca shoots, and the like for food, materials, and such can be accomplished with pretty much any knife. Typically, whatever you use to chop, you will use to split.
Hacking, as used here, is the function of clearing brush, vines, branches, and other plant growth from trails, campsites, shooting lanes, and such. Since you are typically not chopping big timber, this is the province of the machete, brush knife, or kukhri. Axes are too heavy to be functional here. Tomahawks might work. I don’t have one, but they look light enough. At your retreat, have the right tool. A machete works, but so does a ditch axe and brush hook. On the trail, only the machete is light enough to make sense. Still, your camping experience here will help you decide if you need it in your situation. In a survival situation, a large camp area is not necessary and often undesirable. You need to eliminate unnecessary expenditure of energy. I have never cleared a campsite; I found a site that was clear enough. Even in the thick woods in my Southern mountains, I’ve never needed a machete to clear a path. I just found a clear path. What will work for your situation?
So what do you, as someone new to survival and prepping, need? I cannot say definitively what your answer will be, because I do not know your situation. Let me offer this guidance: Get some experience hunting, hiking, or camping. I recommend these activities because you will get out into nature and be around people who have used knives for many years. There are camping and hiking clubs in most areas. These folks may not be knife experts, but they are a good source of practical information. Most hunters today understand that expanding the hunter population is the only way the sport can survive, so many are open minded about teaching someone new. Ask around. Someone you know probably hunts and can help you with the details. You will likely get a lot of conflicting guidance. That’s okay. Everyone has their own perspective and priorities. Always ask why, when getting opinions; it can be very illuminating.
Instead of trying to find one knife that can do everything, many people group similar tasks and find a blade optimized for those tasks. For example, chopping, hacking, and splitting can be accomplished by a machete, a kukhri, or a tomahawk. While lousy at fine cutting tasks, any of those tools are far superior than a small to medium blade at chopping, hacking, or splitting.
Please do not rush out and get an expensive custom-made knife right off the bat. It may be a great knife, but it may not be the right knife for you. Experience will tell you what you need. Until you get that experience, I recommend buying a quality knife at a reasonable price. I recommend your top end be the Ka-Bar. It is an excellent quality knife currently priced between $103 and $123 on their website. There are many good knives on the market, priced between $50 and $100 from reputable manufacturers, like Gerber, Ontario, Cold Steel, SOG, and Kershaw. If you have to talk to a salesman, just use the term “belt knife” or “camp knife”. Look for a knife with a full tang, meaning the blade steel goes all the way to the end of the handle. Your first blade should probably be medium size, 5–7” long. The sheath, regardless of the material, should hold the blade securely, without allowing any of the blade to slip out.
As a matter of perspective, let me offer what I carry, in case it’s of use to you. Every day, I carry a Wenger Swiss Army Knife and an A.G. Russell lockback folder. I carry these two knives 24/7/365, whether in jeans or a business suit. The Russell is an excellent knife with a solid steel handle and excellent steel blade. Its edge is literally a razor. The Wenger is my all-purpose tool. I use it for everything, and I have for decades. Together they give me the sharp cutting blade with near fixed blade strength and the functionality of the saw, screwdrivers, scissors, and file of the Wenger. When hiking, camping, and exploring the wilderness, I add a Puma brand Bowie-style belt knife. It has a hollow ground 7” blade that holds an edge better than most knives I have owned. It came with an excellent heavy leather scabbard with multiple lash points in case I want it on my web gear or rucksack. Occasionally, I carry my old aircrew survival knife, more for old time’s sake than necessity. It’s still sharp as a razor and tough as ever.
I would love to tell you exactly which knife you should carry, but that would be foolish. You may get lucky and buy the perfect knife for you the first time out. I hope you do, but I would not bet on it. Experience is your best teacher. Good luck.
HJL,
As far as using (and abusing) knives go, there is at least one company that provides an unconditional guarantee (beyond warranty) on their knives. Busse knives advertises this, and I’ve not heard anywhere that they’ve refused to replace or repair one of their knives regardless of how or under what conditions it failed. I was introduced to their product by a couple of infantry sergeants out on patrol while in Iraq, and they made me a believer. Busse does not have a statement to the effect that they will void the guarantee on their products for any reason. – BPP
The War on Cash: Transparently Totalitarian. – J.J.
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The Banksters War on Cash. – T.P.
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Items from Mr. Econocobas:
Japan Retail Sales Plunge 9.7% in March – What’s funny is in the video he talks about how Japan can deal with the excessive levels of debt, and what is not mentioned is what is most likely and what they are currently pursuing. Inflating away the debt.
Video: Santelli Exchange: War on Paper Money?
Biggest Inventory Build In History Prevents Total Collapse Of The US Economy – Definitely interesting; did not know the inventory build was still taking place to this extent.
‘Hawkish’ Hilsenrath Confirms Fed Not Worried About Q1 Growth, Rate Hikes Coming – Yeah……. sure… And watch the market implode
National Guard trains for civil unrest, rioting. – JBG
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Schlafly warns America ‘may be at a breaking point already’. – B.B.
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There is no more privacy. Remember that promise from the Radio Shack sales clerk who said they would never sell or give away your data? RadioShack Agrees to Mediation Over Sale of Customer Data – RBS
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Ham radio attempts to fill communication gaps in Nepal rescue effort. – T.P.
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Automatic emergency call devices in all new car models from spring 2018
“The people who build high, strong fences are the ones who survive the best. You deny that reality only at the risk of being driven into the wilderness yourself.” ? Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
Today, we present another entry for Round 58 of the SurvivalBlog non-fiction writing contest. The $12,000+ worth of prizes for this round include:
First Prize:
Second Prize:
Third Prize:
Round 58 ends on May 31st, so get busy writing and e-mail us your entry. Remember that there is a 1,500-word minimum, and that articles on practical “how to” skills for survival have an advantage in the judging.