Why I Was Prepared for the Winter Storm That’s Hitting Right Now

Right now, as I type this, the wind is howling outside like a banshee with a stubbed toe, and social media is doing exactly what I expected it to do: absolute, unadulterated panic.

Right now, as I type this, the wind is howling outside like a banshee with a stubbed toe, and social media is doing exactly what I expected it to do: absolute, unadulterated panic.

You’re out on a trail. The sun’s dropping faster than my patience in a DMV line. Your water bottle just went dry like a politician’s promise, and that familiar, cotton-mouthed panic is starting to…

It’s 2:17 a.m. The wind is throwing body blows at my house like it’s training for a heavyweight title fight against a nimble opponent, and frankly, the house is losing.

When the grid goes dark in the middle of January, modern civilization unravels faster than a cheap extension cord from the dollar store.

You don’t get lost when everything is going great. You don’t lose your bearing when you’ve had eight hours of sleep, a belly full of bacon, and the sun is shining on a perfectly marked trail.

Your phone doesn’t die with a dramatic farewell. It doesn’t play "Taps" or give you a five-minute warning to download a topographic map of the tri-county area. It just… goes quiet.

Most people don’t get lost because they’re bad at hiking. They get lost because they never learned to see the land.

If you’re a parent, you already carry the ultimate survival burden: children. They are small, unpredictable, emotional tornadoes. They spill things. They lose things. They break things.

Picture this: It is 2:00 PM on a Tuesday. You are walking into a gas station at dusk to grab a coffee. A guy in a hoodie is lingering by the door, smoking a cigarette but not looking at his phone.