The deputy came down our road at dusk this past April and told the low houses to leave. I took the Ready America backpack off the floor just inside the hall closet door, and we were in the pickup in about ten minutes. That is the only reason I keep a bag packed. Not because I expect the worst. Because when the moment comes, it does not give you time to go shopping in your own closet.
The creek at the bottom of our road rose fast after two days of rain. Water reached the yard and stopped short of the porch, so the house was fine. We spent one night in a church fellowship hall in town and came home the next afternoon. In between we used the poncho and the tissue pack, split one food bar between us, and drank the water pouches. Nothing dramatic. That is what a bag is for, the small unglamorous things that go wrong when you leave in a hurry. Here are ten reasons to have one packed before anybody knocks.
One bag, two people, three days, packed before you need it
The Ready America 70280 is a two-person, three-day kit in a nylon backpack that weighs 7.8 pounds. Food bars, water pouches, survival blankets, ponchos, a 33 piece first aid kit, lightsticks, dust masks, gloves and a whistle, all in one bag on the floor by the door. I added my own papers and cash.
Amazon See the Ready America 70280 on Amazon →Evacuation orders are measured in minutes, not hours
The order on our road did not come with a schedule. A deputy knocked, said the low houses should go, and moved on to the next driveway. Emergency officials plan on the assumption that you can leave when they tell you to. If your supplies are still a list in your head, you are asking a bad hour to be a good hour. I am not going to tell you a bag keeps anybody safe. I will tell you it removes one reason to hesitate.
Ten minutes from the knock to the pickup
That was our actual time this past April. Bag off the closet floor, phones in pockets, boots on, out the door. No hunting for a flashlight. No standing in the kitchen deciding what matters. The Ready America backpack lives on the floor just inside the hall closet door, which is the one spot in this house I could find in the dark with my eyes shut.
It is built for two people for three days, and it says so
The set is named 2-Person, 3-Day. That means two food bars totaling 4,800 calories and 12 sealed water pouches at 4.225 ounces each. Hollis and I are two people. Three days covers the usual gap between leaving and being able to come back or get to a store. If you have four people in the house, one bag is not enough, and I would rather say that plainly than pretend otherwise.
The water is the part you cannot improvise
You can leave without a lot of things. You cannot leave without water. Twelve pouches is not a luxury supply, it is a bridge, and I treat it that way. The food bars are dense and plain and they are not a meal I would choose on a Tuesday. On the flood night we split one bar between us and it did exactly what it was supposed to do, which is stop hunger from turning into the emergency.
The small items are what you actually reach for
The poncho and the tissue pack were the two things we used. Not the blankets, not the lightsticks. A poncho in a church parking lot at night, and a tissue pack because a roll of paper towels does not travel. I would have bet on the first aid kit and lost. That is the argument for a packed kit instead of a guess. The item you end up needing is rarely the one you would have chosen.
A proper first aid kit beats a bag of loose bandages
The kit is 33 pieces, and the bag also carries nitrile gloves and two dust masks. Gloves matter more than people expect when you are helping somebody who is bleeding. Dust masks are for the kind of leaving where something came down, and in our part of Tennessee that is usually wind. I have not used the kit. I look inside it every three months anyway, because a kit you have not opened is a kit you are only assuming about.
Warmth and rain cover without packing a suitcase
Two survival blankets and two ponchos ride in a bag that weighs 7.8 pounds. If you have ever stood in a church hall at two in the morning in wet clothes, you know the gap between miserable and manageable is thin, and it is cheap to close. This is the part of the bag I would keep if I threw out everything else.
Light and a whistle when the phone is all you have
Two lightsticks, twelve hours each, and a whistle. Phones run down, and on a flood night I would not want to spend my battery on a flashlight. A lightstick in a dark room is not elegant, it just works. A whistle carries farther than a tired voice does. It is the simplest part of the kit and the part I would miss first.
At 7.8 pounds, it is light enough to actually carry
A bag you cannot lift is a bag you leave in the closet. The Ready America backpack weighs 7.8 pounds and measures about 9.5 by 6 by 12 inches, in a nylon pack with a handle on top. I am 61 and I can take it off the floor one-handed. That sounds like a small thing. It is the whole thing. The best stocked bag in the county is no use if it stays behind because it is too heavy to move.
A ten minute check, four times a year, and the bag stays honest
I check mine on the same four dates I top up the power station, the first of March, June, September and December. It takes about ten minutes. I read the dates on the food bars and the water pouches, the listing puts a five year shelf life on both, I make sure the papers and the medication list are current, and I put it back. That is the whole maintenance schedule. A bag is not a decision you make once and forget. It is a habit that costs ten minutes four times a year.
What I'd Skip
I would skip building your own from a blank page. I sat down to assemble one out of a checklist and never finished the list. That is not a knock on anybody who enjoys the project, it is an honest report of what happened at this address. The bag I bought got finished. The bag I planned did not.
I would also skip treating a bag as water treatment. The filters in mine do not remove viruses, chemicals, fuel or salt, and floodwater can carry all of those. Boil first, or drink sealed water first, and follow whatever your utility tells you. And skip the idea that a bag replaces listening. When a deputy tells you to leave, you leave. The bag only makes leaving faster.
Bag off the closet floor, phones in pockets, boots on, out the door. About ten minutes, and not one of those minutes was spent deciding.
The night you need it, you will not have time to pack it
Two people, three days, 7.8 pounds, sitting on the floor just inside the closet door. Mine has been there since last December and I have needed it once. Once was enough to make all the months of it sitting there feel like nothing at all.
Amazon See the Ready America 70280 on Amazon →