|>> || |
My ammo doesn't weigh a stupid amount, maybe a pound and a half at most. Taking into consideration found ammo, the ability to replace my band, and the ability to take whatever I find and thinking outside the box, something never taken into consideration by the people that have never really had to think of scavenging as a viable option as well as the lack of ammo that will occur about three months into any sustained SHTF scenario, I would think that using something that only requires found ammo and that that ammo isn't necessarily needed to be carried is kind of a good thing. That and my BOB, which fits into the INCH bag I have readied, has three different blades in it as well as other cord and gear, I could generally make someone who is not as suited to the harsh life of scavenging in a partially urban, partially rural area have a pretty bad day. Like I said, my bags both have the capability of turning almost anything into an IED as well, along with the capability of sustaining me solely from those bags for about eight days. That, coupled with the knowledge of local vegetation and wildlife, the ability and capability to make traps, snares, etc., and to blow things sky high or simply out of my way with muted sound makes m favorite tool turned weapon into a formidable thing. I have had to live by the unofficial Marine motto of improvise, adapt, and overcome longer than most people in a fist world country can conceive. I know for a fact that my bags are magical in their ability to continually provide for me for an unforeseeable amount of time. I have had to live out of them in some very harsh conditions, in reality, for longer than most people have conceived of in theory. All without drawing any attention to myself from the local LEOs and civilians. For months. Good luck having that kind of real world experience and knowing that a 'tool' such as a BoB or an INCH bag is one hell of a weapon in the right hands. In case anyone is wondering where that real world experience came from, I was homeless in both a metropolitan area and in a rural area for about two months. After that I got a little help from friends with couches and floors to sleep on, off and on. I only had with me what was in my bag, one bag. That bag is still what I use for a BoB, and my INCH bag is full of things I dreamt of having out there on the streets and in the farmlands, woodlands, and parks near the metro area I was in. Anyone who is telling me that I cannot survive with what I have, the gear and mentality that I can slip into like an old pair of pants, has never really lived on the streets and has never really had only themselves and their gear to depend on. And before the objection is raised that I wasn't hunted, I have bipolar with severe schizoid tendencies that wasn't treated and had an active warrant for my arrest that would lead to at least half of my gear getting taken from me. That, channers, is being in a hunted, no friends anywhere, hostiles everywhere mentality and that was my reality for months. Made it through that, with no real scarring and no real damage done. So no, not jacked as fuck. No, not pound for pound outdone by pistols, no, I have taken into account everything I have in my kit and will not be out done for lack of bleeding, and no, won't be taken down by people that have no idea what fighting for the simple human right to eat something, drink potable water, and to rest my body and mind for more than two hours at a time in peace and safety. Good luck out there, comfy people. Hope you can handle adapting to your preconceived notions of survival being thrown out the window, figuring out what plants are around that won't kill you, figuing out what level of decay food can be in while still giving nutrition and not taking away more than it gives through some kind of food poisoning, and figuring out how to stay sanitary when that inevitable food poisoning comes to you. Good luck.