Why I Prep, part 1
In the late 1960’s my parents moved to the tiny community of Shaffers Crossing, high in the Colorado foothills. There along with my older sister and her daughter, we lived on thirty acres of forest and pasture land. The looming slopes that surrounded the tiny community would be called mountains in most other states. Those lofty peaks blocked most of the radio and all television reception from our little valley. Cable TV hadn’t arrived in Shaffers Crossing and satellite TV and cellphones hadn’t been invented. News reached us via the more powerful AM stations, shortwave radio, and the weekly newspaper from the nearby town of Evergreen. We shared one phone line with the seven other households and less than fifty people who made up the community. The nearest grocery store was more than an hour away so my mother usually shopped on a monthly basis.
Kyle Pratt about 1970
As long as the house was warm and meals were ready I didn’t ask why we had two freezers, extra blankets, or large cabinets stocked with canned food. I didn’t know then how easily supply chains can be disrupted. My parents never talked about it but, looking back, they seemed to know that we were the last link in a very fragile chain. I never heard the word prepper, or the more common term of the time, survivalist. As a teenager, I chose the path of blissful ignorance, but I would soon learn to think differently.
Late one spring day snow fell over a foot deep in Shaffers Crossing and deeper in the nearby mountains. The next day the sky was blue and the bright sun melted all the snow. By late afternoon the power and phone both failed. This was not that unusual. However, on this day a tiny creek, miles from our home, had turned into a raging river and washed away the four-lane highway that led east out of the area toward Denver. Many side roads and small bridges had also been swept away.
Elk Creek Valley just south of Shaffers Crossing - Spring 1974
Using a battery-powered radio we heard reports that thousands of people in Denver were without power but the mountain communities were not mentioned. My father left for work in Denver at the usual time hoping that the roads were open. Several hours later, he returned home. The few roads out of the area were either closed due to flooding or washed away.
“The media doesn’t know we’re here with no power and no way out,” my father grumbled. “How are the food stocks?”
“We have at least four weeks of food.” My mother stared at the fireplace. “How much firewood do we have?”
My dad and I had cut a significant amount but, the fireplace had always been more for appearance than heat. We had a large forced-air heating system in the basement. That system was fueled by propane and the tank was nearly full but, the controls were electric and we had no generator. How long would the power be out? How cold would it get? We had no idea. Everyone moved mattresses and blankets into the living room and that night, my dad and I took turns feeding wood into the fire.
In the next post, I’ll continue this story and delve into some of the things my family did right and some things that were wrong. Are you a prepper? Why did you start? Let me know in the comment section below.
