Ant Hills and the Art of Preparation

Ever kick an ant hill to see what happens? Hundreds of ants scramble everywhere, their perfectly organized, purpose-driven lives now in complete chaos as they work to bring order back to the colony. Just like the inside of my head the week before the opening day of waterfowl season, for example.

In the middle of the night I awaken. My head scrolling through the to-do list. Thinking about contingencies, what-ifs, reviewing every apocalyptic worst-case scenario. Even after weeks of preparation, I’m certain there are things I have forgotten, obscure details about things that will most certainly lead to delays, failure, or small-scale disasters.

"Worrying is like paying a debt you don't owe." Mark Twain Twain.

I’m sure watching television as a child probably laid the foundation for my tendency for unnecessary worry and anxiety. Sitting on the floor in front of a grainy black and white screen, Lassie trying to tell Paul and Ruth that Timmy was in trouble again (btw - Timmy never did fall into the well) when suddenly the mood changed. A Civil Defense (CD) logo appeared as a commanding official sounding voice announced, “This is a test. For the next sixty seconds, this station will conduct a test of the Emergency Broadcast System. This is only a test.” A 20 second blast of an unpleasant, uncomfortable two-tone sound then followed.

This stark need for preparation was further reinforced at school through duck-and-cover exercises and standing shoulder to shoulder in a basement fallout shelter during a drill on how to survive the un-survivable.

“Que sera sera,” sings Doris Day.

There are those who seem to have good reason for worry. I recently read a story by Wisconsin Outdoor News writer, Dean Bortz and his reoccurring flat tire problems. His misfortunes have led to road trip prepping, nonpareil. His hunting and fishing travels now include (for those of you wishing to check your own inventory), “…a small floor jack, a high lift jack, a come along, 12-volt air compressor, 2x8 and 2x10 blocking material, ax, splitting maul, 4-pound hammer, steel stakes, tire chains, tow strap, 12-foot of quarter inch chain, spanner wrench, breaker bar, cans of foam tire repair, a squirt bottle of soapy water, tire plug kit, and tool kit.”

I wonder where he puts his actual hunting and fishing gear.

I sometimes carry a floor jack because once I needed one when my boat trailer blew out on a road in Iowa, late in the day, with my wife and elderly mother-in-law travelling with me. Fortunately 10 minutes after pulling off the highway a young man pulled up beside me and asked, “Do you need a floor jack?” In less than 30 minutes I was back on the road home and the considerate man was $25 richer. When I think back about it, I should’ve given him $50. I still have flashbacks when I pass that spot on the road near Pella, so I carry a floor jack, sometimes.

My wife probably wonders, what am I doing out there in the barn all day. Oh you, know, nothing really. Just a little disaster avoidance work. Then my head cranks up like a pinball machine. My UTV tire looks a little low. Does it have a leak? Do I have any Slime? Better check oil and fluids. Trailer hubs probably need re-packing. Trailer tires look good but they’re nine years old; better get new tires before hauling the UTV. Are the ratchet straps still good? Are three enough? How old is the battery? Can it handle the cold weather? Better replace it before winter. Bing. Bing. Bong. Ding.

"By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.” Benjamin Franklin

And my wife adds a whole other dimension to the equation. I deliberately try not to look at her multiple countertop to-do lists. If I’m worried about not forgetting to take my hunting boots, she’s obsessing about the condition of shoelaces. Ugh. I forgot to pack extra boot laces for the grouse hunt, but at least I have a few pre-assembled wader patch kits laying around. A couple for waterfowl waders and a couple for fly-fishing waders just in case any of my four pairs spring a leak.

Of course it never turns out as bad as what I expect, but what if? Twice a year I inspect my travelling first aid kit and an emergency travel bag. Fire starter, matches and lighter, silva compass, bug dope, whistle, Swiss army knife, bear bell, LifeStraw, monocular, headlamp, hand warmers, nitrile gloves, back country pocket saw, GPS unit, emergency glow sticks, various carabiners, duct tape, paracord, rain gear, and camp towel.

I used to carry a pair of walkie talkies and spare batteries in case I need to talk to a companion while searching for someone lost in the wilderness, or a shopping mall parking lot. Smartphones mostly eliminated that need so I carry multiple charger cords. I haven’t acquired one of those portable solar power banks yet but they look intriguing.

“Some things are up to us and some are not.” Epictetus.

I have two multi-tools in my truck and three knives including one with a window breaker tool in case my truck plunges into the Mississippi River should the bridge fail while crossing. I always wonder if I should put the windows down first as my vehicle plunges nose first into the river, or should I wait?

I also carry a reflective hunter orange vest and hat for roadside emergencies, a rechargeable LED work light, a dog leash in case I need to rescue a stray, and a large wool blanket that has been in the backseat of every truck I’ve owned for 30 years. We used it once to keep a young woman warm who had spun off the road during a winter storm; I knew I would need it someday.

And when the cold of winter comes, I still throw a dry bag filled with emergency clothes in the truck and occasionally take a sleeping bag. Growing up in Wisconsin winters taught me the wisdom of this level of preparedness.

Another friend lives by the creed, you can never have too much rope. I agree with that sentiment, so I carry a ditty bag of various ropes in my truck, and another bag with various bungee cords. There’s also a tow strap, a heavy chain, cutting board, trash bags, zip ties, different size hitch balls, jumper cables, hitch pins, hitch locks, 4-way lug wrench, bicycle cables and lock, hatchet, and some other stuff I can’t remember. Fortunately, vehicles don’t require carrying the suite of fuses I used to keep in the glove box. I may have to go back to the flea market and buy that breaker bar I saw for five dollars. That was a deal.

The way I see it, my preparation level is maybe fairly good, but remembering what I have when I need it might be the bigger challenge. I probably need to build a searchable checklist on my phone to help me organize better.

“Be prepared.” Boy Scout motto.

Yet I went ice fishing not long ago and did not wear a floatation suit or carry an ice spud or spikes around my neck for pulling myself out should I break through the ice. Living on the edge that day. Several months from now I may be fishing a large lake up north. I wonder if it’ll be windy. Better check my life vests; those small inflatable ones look really handy should my boat plug fall out.

This is only a test. If this had been an actual emergency…I probably wouldn’t have what I need…This was only a test. Beeeeeeeep.