The Wayward Axe

The Wild Ride-3-3

Acclimating his body to consuming wild foods he would begin doing tomorrow because they were not as digestible to his city living body. Many plants and herbs possess characteristics that either aid or detract from the digestion. Many people might even be allergic to some of them. Farley figured that small doses of the wild foods that to his trained eye might be found in patches here and there abundantly could be introduced to his diet very slowly and also extend his long term storage food.

Now then, which ‘Whopper Chopper’ to take? Dang, that’s a hard question to answer. He liked the utility of the survival model Little Trucker multi tool axe but he also liked the reach of its full scale older brother. He had trapping, shelter building and defense in mind so he settled on the Big Boy, remembering just how mean a live bobcat could be in a snare that needed dispatching and all he had was a short stick to try to whop it with. Having settled on what he would carry on his person as for walking around gear, he cast his eyes towards his pack. What kind of food do I have in there anyway, he said to himself thinking that it’s contents of 72 hours worth of meals didn’t make too much sense because it was going to take him three days just to reach his destination and so he needed even more.

“Crap!” He thought. “Might as well get up now and go get more chow. I have been half ass thinking about it for some time now. MOUNTAIN HOUSE SEAFOOD CHOWDER! I am going to carry a whole damn can of that stuff with me! It doesn’t weigh much and I can get a bunch of meals out of it and hell, that’s my favorite comfort food! I ain`t keen to think the lid will stay on it toting’ it around in my pack so I better stick it in a big zip lock or something so it doesn’t matter if it comes loose.” Farley thought as he exited the van and started digging through his stash for the umpteenth time today.

“What about that idea I had of eating up some of my storage before I left here?” Farley said to himself with a grin thinking to himself after all that a bowl of chowder would be pretty great to celebrate his success in getting to this side of the post apocalyptic world and hugged a can of it like a Teddy bear. Farley really likes that stuff.

I don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring but I’ll be eating pretty well for a little bit. Now then, canned goods: that stuff weighs heavy but I didn’t buy any of the camping size portions of the dehydrated food, so canned stuff that doesn’t require water also has its plusses.

Farley was from the era of the military that started out on C rations. Daily rations of tin can food packed military style. This modern day version he created for himself with cans of chicken or turkey or what not were adequate but he forlornly remembered his favorite C-rat pork slices that you could no longer get in any form or fashion.

He also wished for some of that giant can size rice crispy infused chocolate discs that were great for barter that he hadn’t seen in a couple of decades but he augmented that with one of his old mainstays of hiding some pouches of fortified cocoa mix here and there about his person.

That cocoa mix is great stuff eating it straight out of the pouch and a great pick me up in vitamins and energy but the main thing it does for you is to fortify your soul if you have such a treat on a long march. Now when it comes to the new army stuff, he thought MRE peanut butter was the best thing that ever happened. Not only was it nutritious, it was also the most highly nutritious thing he could think of because he could probably bait at least 20 or 30 squirrels with it and still have him a taste.

“O.K. now, more MRE peanut butter to be added.” He said to himself as he reached for a small get home bag that he’d been salvaging various bits and pieces of survival gear or chow from. “Hmm, Datrex bar! Blue version 3600 calories, well s**t that’s three days flavor of coconut cookies if he wanted to favor that. Let’s see now...got one of those SOS bars that taste like lemon cookies that’s another 2400 calories, that’s five days in those packages. That’s probably another pound or two I am adding to this pack and I could be arguing with myself for days on how I’m going to do this.

No, wait a minute now, I’m being a smart puppy about this I guess, and those Coast Guard approved overboard rations that are two and a half weeks of getting by on in a two pound package so I guess they’re going. One can of canned chicken, two cans of deviled meat to go on those Pilot crackers I got and three MRE’s. And I will quit thinking about food for now; unless that counts that can of Spam I’m going to be eating like a caveman when I walk out of here in the morning.

Farley, you old sad-sack soldier, this isn’t making no sense, no sense at all, you could sit here like a king and set up your own little camp with all these supplies but for some damn reason you got your heart set on making it to that lake. Why is that?”

Farley knew, he wasn’t kidding himself. Oh, it was nice to think about bugging in to a nice lake cabin and being able to fish and draw water for drinking every day, but one of the things Farley knew was the key to survival was companionship. Eventually everyone knows that they need others. That’s why a solitary man goes crazy. Humans are not exactly herd animals but they require interactions with others to keep their focus and sanity. Farley had dreams of being able to create some kind of a new survival community but finding even one like minded person to team up with and increase his survival chances these days was just a thought. But maybe, just maybe, fate would cause somebody to cross his path that felt like sharing the daily living and chores together and it would be somebody to talk to, share the dangers with. Someone who would lend a helping hand when it was needed. Also was the thought that he wouldn’t feel like he was going to die all alone.

Not that it really mattered, a person can die alone in the middle of a crowd if there is no one left to mourn him. He figured it wouldn’t be bad to be remembered or share some of his gear with someone else and wanted the company anyway. Life wasn’t all about what one can possess but to share with others was part of his joy. Hell, he had too much stuff! It would be nice if he had somebody that would help him haul it back to where he was going and give them a chance to make it too. But Fate put him out on this dirt road all by his lonesome and except for the squirrel tossing things at him from the tree above; he didn’t have a friend in the world to stand by his side.

It was pitch black dark now outside and the fireflies spooked him as he looked for any kind of telltale lights in the distance that might alert him that someone else shared this part of his world. His arguments with the mosquitoes had been stilled long ago but he still reeked of OFF insect repellant spray in the confines of the van. He waited, he watched, he listened carefully and finally drifted off to sleep still assembling and reassembling that damn pack in his mind that he felt he had to do some more with in the morning.

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