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I've had survivalism in my blood, to some extent, for as long as I can remember. When I was very young I lived on a ranch and I would stay gone all day (until my parents freaked out and hunted me down) doing as I pleased, and eating only what I could gather outside. Fruit off the trees, walnuts, blackberries, horse grain. When I became a little older my dad taught me to fish. I would fish for koi in the horse troughs with hooks made out of baling wire and worms scavenged from under the lumber pile. I would burrow into the composting manure pile on frosty winter mornings to keep warm.

Looking back on those days, I think the single biggest influence in my prepper ways was my dad. He taught me about camping, making a fire, fishing and shooting. I learned to read the rivers of the Pacific Northwest and how to drive boats in them. I was taught that when I drove into the mountains to always fill the gas tank up first. To keep a flashlight and some extra water and a jacket handy.

Now I'm an adult and my dad, who was once an avid outdoorsman, has become increasingly sedentary and unprepared. I think that when we both lost our homes in the wildfire back in 2018 it took something from him. I have my own children now, and we often check in on my dad in his old age. He has been stubborn about not keeping more than a few days worth of food in his home. All his camping gear burned in the fire and he didn't replace it. So I secretly stock extra at my house, along with stores for myself and my kids. Although he doesn't realize it, I prep for 4 instead of just myself and kiddos. And in this way, we come full circle. As he ages, it's my turn to prepare for his well being instead of him preparing for my well being.
 
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