What if: Active Shooter

I heard the gunshots and thought to myself for the hundredth time "God, I hate the city." a Canadian used to wide open spaces I had already had enough big city to last a life time and now this. Eden and the kids were five floors down in a toy store and best as I could tell the gunshots were coming from my floor. I know they were gunshots, I'd spent enough time an the range to recognize them even before the screams started.
A quick recon showed a lone gunman about a hundred meters out heading towards the Oakley store where I had found myself pricing out overpriced sunglasses I would buy a knockoff of from a street vendor later. My security instincts immediately kicked in and I immediately escorted everyone out the back door into the maintenance tunnels, once everyone was safe I went back to the entrance and peek out between two displays. The gunman had a pump action shotty and was now fifteen meters from the entrance, I ducked back down, set a timer on my phone for fifteen seconds and slid it to the opposite corner of the store.
Being Canadian I wasn't allowed to bring guns into the states but I had spent years bringing knives into places I wasn't supposed to, today was no exception. My right hand pulled the Pentagon mini dagger from the small of my back while my left index finger hooked through the Snarl dangling from my neck.
Footsteps close now, the racking of a slide, the tinkling of a discharged shell. Adrenaline had completely taken over by now, my fight or flight stuck permanently on fight. I knew one thing and one thing only, this person had harmed innocents and as long as he was free to continue his rampage my family was in danger.
The phone goes off. A black shotgun barrel snakes through the door. The owner follows, his attention on the sound.
No time to think, just act. I lunge upwards the dagger stabs out for the man's throat, the Snarl slashes at his trigger finger. Red arterial blood follows the dagger as I pull it back.
The shotgun clatters to the stone floor, I kick it away but it doesn't matter.
The gunman collapses to the floor, doing his best to stem the flow of his life force. My adrenaline flow stops and I suddenly feel very tired. I sit down, nothing to do now but wait for the Calvary to come arrest me.

What if: Nautical Breakdown

Goddammit Karl!

The 14 aluminum boat's outboard motor sputters to a stop. We lift it out of the water to discover a shit ton of fishing line wrapped around the prop. We're across the lake from camp, where the oars are still sitting on the beach. The only thing in the boat besides a couple of fishing rods is a cooler, with only a few sodas and one bottle of water left. Karl only has his cell phone, a bic lighter, and a pack of cigarettes. I've got my SOG Seal Strike, a waterproof lighter, SOG Powerlock, and a SOG Dark Energy that has been on the fritz lately. It's seven pm, the sun is setting and the temperature is starting to drop, we're 10 kms from camp near a wooded area. It's an 18 km walk around the lake, and we're still a couple hundred meters from the nearest shore.

Just like that a day at six lakes turns into a life threatening situation for Roddy and Karl.

I briefly considered swimming to shore but the dropping temperatures meant wet clothes would be more dangerous than staying in the boat. I thought about cutting the propeller free but Karl reminded me the motor had burnt up. Only option was to try and ride the tide closer to shore. Luckily the water gods were with us and we drifted to shore just as the sun began to set.

Karl and I pulled the boat up onto the muddy shore, looking around at the scraggly woods. It would be a long walk back to camp and with only one faulty flashlight and almost daylight we weren't making it. So we set about gathering wood to make a fire, with temperatures dipping down into the single digits and Karl's insistence on wearing shorts. I hadn't worn shorts since the Fort McMurray fires and probably never would again. We gathered up the driest wood we could, which wasn't much but it would have to do.

Using the remaining gas from the boat's tiny outboard we got a decent fire going on the driest part of the shore we could find. Using the Powerlock we dismantled the boat as best be could turning the boat on its side next to the fire to use as a makeshift shelter. The seats we as pillows while the wooden benches we turned into a fire break. With the boat's keel facing the water, most of the wind was blocked and we actually stayed pretty warm.

The Dark Energy finally quit on me while I was hunting for wood but I was close enough to the fire to make my way back to the fire. Unfortunately I didn't see the root sticking up and ended up twisting my ankle. I would still be able to walk but it would be slow going. I made it back to the fire where I informed Karl what had happened. He asked if would be able to make it, I said I would try.

Sun rise the next morning we set out for the camp, following the lake shore as best we could. The forest disappeared only a few hundred meters around the shore, replaced by rolling sand dunes. My ankle gave out after only two kms and after a great deal of arguing we decided Karl should continue on and come back to get me with the ATV. I dug myself into the sand having given Karl the last of the water and keeping a ginger ale for myself.

As the sun crept higher into the sky I began to wonder if splitting up was the best thing to do. Even with my sand cave and water from the lake to keep me cool the temperature reached well over thirty degrees Celsius with no sign of clouds in the sky. About midday I fell asleep, waking to find the sun far into the western sky.  Check of my watch said it was thirteen hundred hours. I stood up to look and see if I could find Karl but he was long gone from site. I drank the ginger ale and crawled back into my hole.

The sun was beginning to set now, the edges of it just brushing the horizon. I began to worry that I'd be spending the night alone, crippled, in a sand hole.

Just as the last edges of daylight turned the sky a brilliant pink I heard the ATV motor roaring across the sands towards me and I stood up frantically waving my arms. It was Karl!

Karl had brought the first aid kit so I wrapped my ankle and we turned around and headed back to camp. As the ATV rose and dipped with the dunes I watched the last rays of sunshine disappear behind the horizon. Karl looked back and in the last hints of daylight I gave him the thumbs up.

Why you need a 22

Goddammit Karl! I'll write a blog but you need a reliable 22. That sks is cute but it's also heavy, clunky, and the ammo is heavy. Which brings us to the topic of this blog.

The 22lr is the most prolific round in the world, existing since the late 1800s it is still the cheapest, lightest, and most versatile round available on the market. Now I hear the ar boys shouting about 223 but let me point out you can't find a true pistol in 223(sbrs don't count). I hear the caliber kings proclaiming things like penetration, knockdown, and other things they proclaim. Guess what? 22lr will punch through most if not all soft targets, the rest is just flak.

Now then why 22? Well for starters you can get just about every type of firearm in 22 or you can get a conversion kit. It's still dirt cheap for a shit ton of rounds. It weighs nothing so you can pack ten or twenty times the amount of ammo compared to larger calibers. Plus it allows you to share ammo between your rifle, ar, and pistol depending on what you carry.

Here's some wierd points that can be either good or bad arguments. 22lr is the most commonly used round in murders. With a couple of exceptions 22 long guns in Canada don't have magazine capacity restrictions.

Now don't get me wrong, I own plenty of other larger calibers but 22lr is my favourite. Between my mare's leg, Ar7, stg-44, and lever action I have everything covered.

Now what 22s do I recommend? Get a takedown, a handgun, and a semi auto. Which models and brands are up to you but those three are a good starting point. Once you own these you have to train with them often. Because doesn't matter if it's small game hunting, survival, shtf, or the goddamn apocalypse you need to be able to use whatever gun you have.

Until next time this is Roddy Cross with Wolf Cross Adventures, saying live forever.

Ymm Wilderness Survival Courses

"Where your talents and the needs of the world cross; there lies your purpose." Aristotle

Roddy Cross here, Fort McMurray Survival Expert, and I was recently talking to someone about an incident that happened about a year ago. Long story short a young man made a few mistakes that led to him sitting up in a tree covered in Moose blood, surrounded by Wolves, with nothing but a rifle and four rounds to his name. Thankfully he was rescued with only a touch of hypothermia but none the worse for wear. His biggest mistake was leaving his gear, behind before venturing into a place he didn't know. So because of this I have decided to see if there is interest in a wilderness survival course in the area of Wood Buffalo.

The course would entail:
- different levels of gear so you never find yourself without.
- fire building.
- shelter building.
- survival psychology.
- survival strategy.

Obviously everything would be in the field, and I will be making blog posts and youtube videos on my channel involving the course work. Price will be decided at a later date and the only gear required will be a knife and a way to start a fire(personal preference for both). Other gear is allowed but the lesson will involve only the knife and fire starter. I'm thinking I will hold the course one or two Saturday nights a month depending on my schedule.

If anyone would be interested in this please feel free to email me at roddy2hotty@gmail.com. Until next time live forever, Wolf out.

What if: Viral Outbreak(Day one)

(All right so this one is going to be a little different than the first two. I'll set you up, its late September of 2016, an unknown viral outbreak has begun to spread across the world. the virus is extremely fatal with an long gestation period during which it is highly contagious. All the rest will parallel my real situation. This won't be pretty and it won't be fun.)

September 21, 2016 Day One

Work tomorrow so here I am at the grocery store buying food for work. All around me things seem normal as people go about their day buying groceries, but things aren't normal. The headlines are filled with the latest virus scare, just under the headlines about the American election. It seems one of the election candidates has been missing from the public eye for several days.
My gut told me something was wrong, very wrong, admittedly my gut always told me something was wrong. Almost without thinking I grabbed some extra items; two cases of water, a bulk pack of toilet paper, protein bars, dried milk, and meal replacements. As I paid for my items the pretty young cashier gave me a smile and raised eyebrow, before ringing through the items. I briefly considered warning her but realized it would only make her uncomfortable and me look crazy.
After I loaded the groceries into my Jeep I made a beeline to the Canadian Tire and picked up four half mask respirators, half a dozen chemical resistant coveralls, painters clothes, and as much duct tape as I could afford. Next stop was the outdoors store for two pound propane bottles and ammunition. Finally it was off to the Shoppers's Drugmart for surgical gloves and hand sanitizer, my credit rating was taking a huge hit today but it wouldn't be the first time and if I was wrong I would just pay it off later.
I tuned to the AM news station on my drive home, the boring voiced liberal media was never my thing but occasionally they hit on something useful. On my short drive home I learned about a wine festival in the Okanogan but nothing useful.
Back at home I did my best to keep my wife, Eden, from seeing my extra purchases. She never liked my paranoid prepper life style but I figured it was better safe than story. My ability to be prepared was far better than my ability to be discrete and she caught on pretty quickly.
"What is it this time? Terrorists? World War 3? These things never turn to be true and you're just wasting money babe."
"It's a viral outbreak this time and it's here."
"What do you mean it's here?"
"I drove past the hospital and it was lined up out the door."
"That happens a lot babe."
"There's more, there's been an increase of sick calls at work and everywhere else."
"So are we just going to hide in the house?"
"No you and Xavier are, we can afford that, I'll go to work until I can't anymore."
Outside an ambulance flew past our house with lights and sirens screaming. For the first time in our marriage my wife consented and said her and Xavier would stay at home for a little while. Before I went to bed I saw a new headline stating the US presidential candidate had died, and just below that a body count from India that had reached six digits.

What If: Stranded in winter

Well here we are with another what if scenario, this time my vehicle has slid off a winter road and left me stranded. It's the middle of winter, night, and snow is falling.

I locked the four wheel drive and feathered the gas, the whine of free spinning tires confirmed that I wasn't going anywhere. Flipping on the Auxiliary Lights I stepped out of the my Jeep Patriot and into knee deep snow. The landscape around me flickered as the heavy snow floated past the lights, it was damn cold too. I looked both ways down the winter road between Fort Chipewyan and Fort Smith, but there wouldn't anyone coming this way for a while.
It was after ten on a Saturday night in the middle of February, so I lit a cigar and considered my situation. I could probably dig the Jeep out but with the snow still falling and after I long day I had no desire to do any late night digging. There was no cell service and no one would be looking for me tonight. So I put out my cigar and climbed back in the Jeep, flicking off the lights and killing the engine.
Unlacing my boots I climbed into the back of the Jeep, which I converted into a camper for this trip by folding down the back seats and laying down a sleeping pad and sub zero sleeping bag. Clicking on a little battery powered lantern which filled the Jeep with light, I grabbed my adventure/survival pack. Inside I had several MREs and a couple bottles of water, I sipped at the water while the MRE, Beef Ravioli, cooked.
I flipped through a survival guide while I ate, the food bland but filling. A chocolate bar for desert and I crawled into my sleeping in bag. the Jeep was cold but inside the bag I was warm and as I drifted off to sleep I hoped the Jeep would start in the morning.
It was still dark when I woke and a check of my watch showed it to be about eight in the morning. I crawled out of my sleeping bag and immediately began shivering. Inside the bag it had been several balmy degrees above zero but out in the Jeep it was at least ten degrees below, with condensation frozen to all the windows.
Climbing into the driver's seat I turned the key and was greeted to the purring of the Jeep's engine coming to life. I cranked the heat and rolled down opposite windows before climbing back into the living area for breakfast. A water bottle from my sleeping bag warmed up the pork sausage MRE for breakfast while I waited for the Jeep to warm up.
Breakfast finished and the windows cleared I laced up my boots and got out of the Jeep. It was chilly but I was dressed warm as always, I lit my cigar back up and looked around. At least two or three centimeters had fallen while I was sleeping covering the road and the Jeep.
First things first I had to clean the Jeep off and make myself more visible. I ran into my first complication clearing off the hood when I discovered the front tires had frozen into the snow. Second complication came when I discovered a large gap of air between the back tires and Terra firma. I wasn't going anywhere without a tug back onto solid ground.
I was right in the middle between the two villages with 180 km in either direction and it was Sunday. I briefly considered walking to one of them but I didn't have provisions, a map, and it was winter. So I grabbed my shovel off the roof and started chipping away at the front tires. After about an hour I had the tires basically free and realizing the Jeep was still running decided to check the fuel.
The gauge had dipped below half a tank so I shut the engine off and emptied one of the three Jerry cans into the tank putting me at just under full. With nothing else to do and the sun rapidly rising in the south I dropped back into the driver's seat and flicked on the hazards. I had just finished my lunch of an energy bar and water when I heard the honking coming from the road.
I jumped out of the Jeep and waved to the pickup that had stopped a few feet down the road. A kind looking man with a round face and broad smile stepped out and waved.
"You all right?"
"I'm fine, thank you, just need a little tug."
"I think I can help, you got a rope?"
"Yup, You line up and I'll grab the strap."
He got back into his truck and lined up with the Jeep while I grabbed the bright yellow tow strap from inside. Two hooks and a quick tug and the Jeep was back on the road, I smiled and thanked my rescuer who wished me well. The tow strap back in the trunk and my sunglasses on I hit the road thinking of the smiling faces waiting for me and the way things could have gone.

What if? Trapped in Rio during a coup

In the last issue of Recoil Off-Grid magazine they did a what if involving you and your partner being trapped in Rio during an uprising. I read the three ideas in the magazine and decided as an exercise I would do on of my own, it goes as follows.

I was annoyed already, I hated coming to countries where the government had little power to begin with and Brazil was really going down hill. I had come down for a Security Convention and was anxious to get back home but Eden wanted to enjoy the beaches and some shopping so I had relented. It had been quite apparent that things had gone to shit around Rio and were only getting worse.
The fecal matter impacted the air turbine just as we returned to our hotel from a day of shopping. All around sounds of civil unrest echoed around the big city but the sounds of screams and the chatter of automatic weapons clinched it for me, it was time to go. I hustled Eden up to our hotel room where we quickly changed into our Canadian flag shirts and grabbed a few things.
I wore Under Armour tactical boots in desert tan and a pair of matching cargo pants. Eden wore flip flops and denim shorts as she refused to dress practically. We gathered up our passports and cash, I wasn't too worried about hiding them because I figured anyone willing to rob us would probably also kill us. The news said the rebels were after Americans so I hoped our Canadian shirts would help but wasn't confident.
Both around six foot tall with pale features and bright eyes, her's blue and mine green, there was no way Eden and I would be blending in. Instead I decided to grab the SOG Pentagon Elite 2 I liked to carry everywhere and just hope I didn't need it. I checked my phone and punched in directions for the Canadian Embassy, it was closer than the airport and probably our best bet.
My hopes to leave without a fight were quickly dashed as the sound of screams and gunfire came from just down the hall. I told Eden to lock herself in the bathroom and the hunker down in the tub while I got ready. I latched the door and braced the chair against the handle, they were in the next room now. I pressed my ear to the wall and closed my eyes, there were two of them, both most likely armed and confident about their power.
I crouched down on the right hand side of the door so the door would swing away from me. Without warning the door shook and one of the men outside uttered a stream of what I can only imagine were Portuguese curses. This was followed by the rapid boom of automatic weapons fire punching several holes in the door.
I knew what was coming and prepared myself mentally, I'd never had to kill anyone, hell I'd never been in a fight since High School but I had something these two didn't. I had promised to keep my wife safe no matter what and I wasn't about to let two punks hurt her. The door came flying into the room just as my mind cleared and adrenaline surged into my veins.
The two thugs came into the room right behind the door, missing me entirely as they went for the suitcases still on the bed. The first one in carried an AK47 while his partner had a pistol I couldn't immediately identify, they both wore balaclavas made from T-shirts.
Rising up behind them I stepped up and drove the Pentagon directly into the base of pistol guy's skull, he collapsed immediately without warning but it caught his friend's attention. He turned quickly but the AK was too long and he couldn't bring it to bear before I lunged the three feet between us and tackled him to the floor. At six feet and 230 pounds the little rebel didn't have a chance to stop me, the AK bouncing away on the carpeted floor.
His head bouncing of the bed from left my opponent a little dazed, and hating ground fighting I took the advantage by straddling my heavy frame over the little rebel's chest. Wrapping my left hand around his throat I squeezed, hard. My nails dug into the would be killer's flesh as his eyes bulged and he clawed at my wrist. Realizing I was short on time and his friends may have heard the scuffle I made the decision to finish things by stabbing him in the chest, the shark tooth blade piercing flesh and bone until the struggling stopped.
I looted the corpses for anything I could use, the pistol turned out to be a Glock, not my favourite but it would do. I left the AK but not before bending the barrel against the floor. Two extra mags for the Glock was all I found of use on the two.
I knocked on the bathroom and told Eden she could come out but to keep her eyes closed and I would lead her out of the room. The hotel had gone quiet and I assumed the two here had been the only ones in the hotel. Without a holster to store it in I put the Glock into my waistband between my belt and my pants. The magazines went into a cargo pocket and the knife back into my front right pocket.
Eden came out of the bathroom and we made our way down to the lobby, it was deserted except for the bodies of the staff and a few guests.
Out the main doors I saw a bright orange pickup idling with two more balaclava sporting rebels and told Eden we would head out the back. Once out in the alley we began making our way to the Embassy which my phone said was still eight block away, there was no cell service in the city but I had downloaded the map on the hotel's Wi-Fi. As we reached the edge of the alley I could hear the sounds of chanting and gunfire coming from the street.
Peering around the corner I witnessed a mob of gun toting rebels engaged in a firefight with the Police. I told Eden we would have to find another way, which meant going back down the alley and away from the Embassy. Running as quickly as Eden could in flip flops we headed for the other end of the alley.
A guy in a VW bus was at the end of the alley, he waved to us and called out "Americans?" I shook my head and replied "Canadians!" He nodded and motioned for us to get in, which we quickly obliged as another truck loaded with masked man came around the corner a few blocks down.
Eden sat behind the driver and I sat kitty corner to him as I pulled the door shut. Without prompting the driver took off and headed down the street. Showing the driver my phone I said "Embaixada do Canada."
He nodded and immediately took off in the opposite direction of the Embassy. I looked at Eden shook my head and pulled the Pentagon from my pocket, opening it as quietly as possible. The driver turned left into a park and stopped under a tree. The van wasn't completely stopped as his upper body turned, the left hand bringing the concealed pistol to bear on us.
Using my left hand I reached out and half cocked the pistol, jamming it, my right swung up and speared the knife through the driver's left wrist. I followed the swing all the way up until the knife pierced the van's roof, I pulled the pistol from his grasp as I did so. To my great surprise Eden cold cocked the driver, an audible crack followed by a steady stream blood from his nose.
I handed Eden the driver's Tokarev and pulled the Glock from my belt, the driver had begun screaming. As the tears from his broken nose cleared the driver realized he was staring down the barrel of my borrowed Glock and he became very silent. I pulled the Pentagon out of his wrist and told him to "get the fuck out." I don't know if he understood the words or the tone but he left the van in a hurry.
Eden and I climbed into the front seats of the van and I swung us around and headed back towards the Embassy. As we got closer to the road again I cleared the jammed Tokarev and handed it to Eden, who was usually pretty anti gun but she took it without question. The streets were choked with fires, vehicles, and bodies but I was able to find us a clear path to the Embassy without anymore trouble.
I rolled to stop and advised Eden to get out but leave the gun in the van as we approached the embassy.
We approached the embassy with our hands up and a big clean cut man carrying an MP5 approached and said "are you two Canadian?" I nodded and held out our passports. "Well you're just in time, everyone is leaving." We followed the Embassy guard to a waiting helicopter.