Welp, if I’m in the town north of our farm, I’m alright. 73 Ford F250 4×4. Like Whirl, no electrics to fry. Everything’s analog. I modded the truck – took out the in-cab tank and closed off the filler hole. Dropped the spare under the tailgate and fitted a 40 gallon tank in it’s place. Also have two saddle tanks. That gives me 60 gallons, so I’m good to go, at least for awhile. My EDC is a S&W Mountain Gun in .45 Colt and one speedloader, so I got 12 rounds on me. The toolbox behind the cab carries my bugout **** – old German Army rucksack filled with the normal stuff – flashlight, spare batteries, bottled water and an empty canteen (a canteen full of water riding around in my truckbox would get nasty pretty quickly), my old tritium lensatic compass, spare socks and such, map, spare Buck 110, etc… the good stuff isn’t in the bugout ruck… it’s the pioneer tools, comealong and chains, and other assorted flotsam in the truckbox.
I don’t carry hardly any cash on me, so hitting the local stores before anyone figures out what’s going on is a bust… might have to change that some. That leaves beating a hasty retreat home, which isn’t far – only 12 miles.
Same drill for being in the little town south of us, except it’s only 10 miles home. Make my way around the stalled traffic and don’t stop for nothin’… except if I see a neighbor I know. Them I’ll give a ride to. Second thought, might stop by the local Sheriff’s Office and either clue them in if they’re clueless, or glean whatever information I can if they’re not clueless.
After that, it’s Katy bar the door.
The wicked flee when none pursueth..." - Proverbs 28:1