Z-Factor
“Okay,” Bobbi said, rather reluctantly. “I admit it was kind of fun.”
“Kinda fun?” Bobbi’s friend Julia said and barked a laugh. “You were having the time of your life!”
“I was not!” exclaimed Bobbi. “Om… Om… Om…” Bobbi had her eyes closed and was meditating.
“Can’t meditate away the fact that you liked shooting my pistol,” Julia said softly.
The Oms stopped for a second and when Julia looked over Bobbi was frowning slightly.
“Zen does not lend itself to violence. Om… Om… Om…”
“Sure it does,” Julia said, rather seriously.
Surprised, Bobbi looked over at her long time friend. “How?”
“Meditating, clearing the mind, calming down… Most shooters do something. I saw you get ready before you shot. You might not have been Oming, but you were calming down, just like I showed you. Call it the Z-factor, if you don’t want to connect it too closely with Zen. Besides… You’re Christian. What’s with all the Zen stuff lately?”
“It is so calming, Julia! You should really try it! I’ve found that if I don’t delve too deeply into it, there is no conflict with my religion. I’m often just praying silently when I do the Om.”
“I’ve got my own methods to calm down, thank you. If the big Z works for you, I’ll not say anything else about it. Better not. You shot almost as well as I do and it was your first time. You sure you weren’t a soldier or something in a past life?”
“That’s silly. I don’t believe in reincarnation any more. When you die your soul either goes to heaven or the other place. I was just in a stage back then.”
“Un-huh. A stage. Like some of the other ones.”
Bobbi went into pout mode. “You always make fun of my hobbies! I know I sometimes go off the deep end, but… not so much lately.”
“I know, Sweetie! I’m not criticizing. Just funning you a little.”
“Oh. Well, okay.” There was silence for a few minutes as Julia maneuvered in heavy traffic. “And besides,” Bobbi said, as if there’d been no delay, “What about you and your… uh… Preps you call it?”
“My preps, are a way of life with me. One you’d be well to adopt. Bobbi, the world is a dangerous place, and…”
“Om… Om… Om…”
Julia fell silent and sighed. Sometime there seemed to be no hope for Bobbi. Off on some tangent she had a rather weak grip on reality sometimes. Her dabble into Zen was no competition for her religion, just something to play around with until the next fad or whatever came along.
It had been rather amazing that Bobbi had agreed to go to the range with Julia that day. First time ever, and Julia had been trying to get her to go, literally for years. Julia glanced over at Bobbi and began to wonder what was different about her friend now.
“Om… Om… Om…”
Julia really began to wonder when Bobbi agreed to go not only shooting with Julia the next week-end, but to a gun show first.
Keeping a sharp eye on her wide-eyed, rather bedazzled friend, Julia guided them over to one of the ammunition vendors. Julia bought a case of .45ACP FMJ to get her stocks back up to a more comfortable level after the recent shortage of ammunition.
Bobbi looked rather longingly over her shoulder when Julia headed out to put the ammunition into her Jeep. “Can we go back in?”
Julia was surprised. “Well… Sure… But I didn’t want to insult your Zen self.”
“Nah. That’s just the Z-factor. Like you said. I realized it this past week. Meditation is good, but it isn’t my religion. I use it now when I just need to get away from things for a couple of minutes. Can we go back?”
“Yep. You got your hand stamped didn’t you?”
Bobbi held up her arm proudly. There was the reentry stamp. “Okay,” Julia said, “Let’s go back.”
It was Julia that had to call it a day, after spending all morning and most of the afternoon wandering around the exhibits. Bobbi had a question about nearly everything. Julia was able to answer most, but when she wasn’t sure there was always a male standing nearby more than willing to provide the information. And take plenty of time doing it. More than once Julia had to nudge Bobbi to keep moving.
When Julia said she was ready to go get something to eat, Bobbi frowned. “I want to look at one of the guns again.”
Wearily Julia agreed. Bobbi made a beeline to one of the tables catering to women shooters. “Can I have that one?” Bobbi asked, pointing to a pink stocked 10-22 .22 rimfire rifle.
Julia thought she was going to faint. Bobbi was in the process of buying a gun. A twenty-two, but a real gun, never the less.
“Bobbi! Are you sure you want a gun of your own? Did you even bring any money?”
“Sure! See.” Bobbi carefully opened the bag she used as a purse. There was a wad of folded bills that would choke a horse, Julia thought.
Julia just stood and watched as Bobbi was led through the process of buying the rifle. She could even take immediate possession since they were in Nevada. She declined to get any accessories for it, except for ten spare Ruger 10-round magazines. Julia did talk her into getting a cleaning kit, eye and hearing protection, and they picked up two bricks of .22 LR ammunition on the way out.
“I can’t wait! Let’s go to the range right now!” Bobbi said excitedly when they were both in the Jeep.
“I have to eat something first,” Julia said. “I’m starving.”
“Oh. Yeah. So am I. Let’s get something fast.”
“You are not going off your health diet to go shooting. We can take the time to eat a real, healthy, meal.”
“I guess you’re right,” Bobbi said, slumping back in the Jeep’s front passenger seat. She only pouted a little.
The eagerness was back when they finished their late lunch and were on the way to the range. Julia explained all the safety aspects of shooting, Bobbi’s second lesson in a week. Julia was pleased that she took it all in raptly. The weekend before Bobbi had paid attention, but was more interested, at first, in just getting done what she had decided was going to be an ordeal.
Bobbi asked some questions, and then, with Julia convinced her friend could handle the rifle safely, showed her how to load it. Bobbi nodded and set the rifle down on the bench. She closed her eyes and the Oms were back. Half a dozen of them. When she saw Julia looking at her she shrugged and said, “The Z-factor. I’m ready now.”
Julia’s thumb was worn almost raw reloading the ten round magazines so Bobbi could just keep shooting. Bobbi went through the first brick of .22 shells and was ready for more, but Julia called a halt. It was beginning to get dark and her thumb ached. “You always want to have some ammunition available. Never shoot it all up, unless you’re defending your life.”
“That’s smart. Julia, you really know a lot of good stuff.”
“Yeah. Well, thank you. I think. Now let’s go home and get the rifle cleaned and put up before we get something to eat.”
“Can we celebrate? Me getting a gun?”
“Sure. The budget is fine. We can spare a little extra for a celebration.”
“Cool!” Bobbi replied and carefully carried the rifle back to the Jeep after putting it in the silicone sock Julia bought for her at the range shop. It, too, was pink.
Over the next several weeks, Julia observed subtle changes in Bobbi’s outlook. Bobbi had latched onto the ‘Z-factor’ much more tightly than usual for one of her tangential episodes. But it was almost entirely devoted to the shooting sports. Bobbi wanted to go every week-end now. And before each session, she did the Om thing for a couple of minutes to relax and center herself. Or so she said.
When Bobbi asked to shoot Julia’s CCW carry gun, a Para Ordnance version of the venerable Colt 1911 semi-auto pistol, she did the same thing the first time. “I don’t know,” Bobbi said after putting three 12-round magazines through the gun. “I kind of like it. But it’s pretty plain.”
“Being plain doesn’t make it inefficient or unable to do the job. Speaking of which, you really need to rethink your Z-factor warm up when you shoot a pistol. It’s fine when you’re target shooting, but not so good if there are bad guys shooting at you. You have to be quick and precise.”
Bobbi, to Julia’s surprise, nodded and said, “That makes sense. I’ll remember that.”
Julia found Bobbi on the computer a couple of times the next week looking at gun sites and even at least one preparedness site. Julia didn’t say anything. If Bobbi was finally coming around on the subject of preps, then so much the better. With some people, Bobbi being a perfect example, you didn’t push. You provided opportunity and responded to questions.
That was pretty much it until the next gun show came to the city. Julia was stunned when Bobbi handed her a computer generated ticket to the show and held up hers. “I thought we could go to the gun show tomorrow. I got tickets online so we wouldn’t have to wait so long in line to get in.”
“Well… Sure. Wasn’t planning to this time, but okay. If you want to, we certainly will.”
Bobbi made a rapid circuit of the show the next day, but came back to one table shortly afterwards. Julia just stayed with her and kept an eye on things. Bobbi was on a mission, and she sometimes wasn’t very aware of what was around her.
The table where Bobbi stopped and look for some time carried a line of custom handgun grips, including those for 1911 design pistols.
“That one,” Bobbi said, pointing at a pair of grips under the glass top of the display case.
“This one?” asked the dealer pointing to one of the closely spaced grips.
“Nope. One to your left. Yes. That one. Can I see it up close?”
The dealer handed the two thin slabs of wood to Bobbi and waited expectantly.
“Uh… Bobbi… If you’re thinking about those as a gift for me…”
“No. Of course not. They’re for me. I’m going to get a pistol to fit them.”
“A pistol to fit the grip? Is she kidding?” the dealer asked Julia.
“No, she’s not kidding,” Julia told the dealer, but she leaned close and whispered to Bobbi, “Bobbi! Let’s discuss this! You don’t just buy grips and then go find a pistol to fit them.”
“Why not? I already know the pistol I want. Just like yours, only prettier. That table was really busy so I came over here, first.”
“You’ve got a 1911 picked out? Where?”
“Would you hold these for me?” Bobbi asked the dealer, handing the fancy grips back to him. She then led Julia on quite a chase through the three rooms of the gun show.
Julia happened to be looking at Bobbi when they came up to the table. Bobbi was enchanted. Julia looked down to where Bobbi was looking on the table. “Oh, Bobbi! That pistol goes for over three grand!”
“But isn’t it like yours, only with the silver plating and gold inlay?”
“Well… Yes… But…”
“And it’ll shoot okay? It’s not just for show?”
The dealer answered for Julia. “Yes indeed! Only had a few rounds put through it, but it is a shooter, for sure!”
“I want it.” Bobbi didn’t look at Julia as she handed the dealer her credit card and took the clipboard with the paperwork to be filled out. An old hand at it now, Bobbi made quick work as Julia tried to come up with some reason for Bobbi not to get the gun.
Bobbi certainly had the money, but in Julia’s eyes, the fancy gun was a waste of it. Better to get a cheaper model that was just as effective, such as hers, and get more supplies for it with the rest of the money.
But Bobbi was so set on the gun that Julia didn’t have the heart to try and talk her out of it. With Julia’s tacit, but unspoken agreement, Bobbi got on a roll. Pistol in a bag, she went back and got the grips she wanted, batted her eyes a couple of times and got the dealer to throw in silver plated screws and attach the grips to the pistol for free.
A direct route next to a table selling high grade magazines for the gun. Eight rounders, stainless steel, to go with the silver plated gun. Twenty of them. Then on to a custom leatherworker for a belt, holster, and magazine pouches, with fine tooling, of course.
The last stop before they left the show was at the ammunition dealer to get more .22 LR ammunition and two cases of .45ACP FMJ to use in the new Colt.
Bobbi was smiling, but silent, on the way to the range. “You really sure you want to shoot it?” Julia asked finally. “It’s really more of a collector item than a shooter.”
“You know I like pretty things. It’s even better when they are useful,” Bobbi replied.
Julia had to admit a couple of hours later that the fancy gun was indeed a shooter. A very good shooter. And with a little help from a couple of willing ‘experts’, Bobbi learned how to draw and fire the gun from the holster. Not super fast, but fast enough and very accurate. Julia was a bit jealous of how well Bobbi shot with so little practice.
Happy as a clam, Bobbi put everything away after cleaning the gun when they got home and changed clothes to go out for another celebratory dinner out.
Turning Bobbi into a fledgling prepper after that was relatively easy for Julia. Bobbi spent most of her spare time on the computer, catching up on information that was old hat to Julia. And questions… She asked hundreds of them. Most Julia could answer, but on occasion one that they both had to look up. Julia wasn’t much of one for the prep and PAW fiction on some of the forums, but Bobbi, seldom without a book handy, took to it like it was candy. She spent countless hours reading the fiction.
Then, when her current boyfriend asked Julia to go camping over the Labor Day weekend a couple weeks before the event, Bobbi cautiously asked to go along. Normally the two kept their romantic lives to themselves. But when Julia asked Mark if Bobbi could tag along he agreed. A bit too eagerly in Julia’s eyes.
But Bobbi didn’t have any camping gear. So Bobbi went into shopping mode, occasionally asking Julia for advice, but making most of the choices on her own. Most everything was purchased on-line, with delivery times well in time for the trip.
By the time the day they were to leave on the camping trip, Bobbi was as well equipped for a wilderness camping trip as Julia. Everything they would need for the three-day weekend, plus a week’s extra consumables, just in case, was loaded into the back of Julia’s Jeep. They would meet Mark at the entrance to the section of the National Forest where they would be camping.
Mark, as usual, Julia suddenly realized, was late. Julia and Bobbi waited in the Jeep for him to come over from his car. “I thought you were going to rent a pickup for this trip. That car will never make it. You know that,” Julia told Mark.
“I know. I figured to ride in with you. I’ll get my gear.”
Julia got out of the Jeep and hurried over to Mark at his small car. Bobbi, sensing the tension in Julia, stayed where she was.
“Mark! This is all you brought? What about a tent? It’s going to be cold. And I only see a couple of bottles of water. Where’s your food and water and emergency supplies?”
“Oh, I figured you’d have all that. I brought my own sleeping bag. Figured on sharing your tent.”
“Oh, you did, did you? Well, that’s not going to happen now or ever. Just put that stuff back in your car and go home. We’re done.”
“Not so fast. Let’s see what Bobbi has to say about this. She wanted to go. Maybe you should take my car and go home and Bobbi and I can go on this little jaunt together. I’m sure that’s what she was wanting, anyway.”
“You slug!” Julia said, her voice low and intense. “Bobbi wants nothing to do with you. She has a steady boyfriend. You’ve had a roving eye ever since we started going out. Should have known that when your eye roved to me, it would at some point rove again. Good-bye!”
Julia turned and walked back to the Jeep. She didn’t realize Mark was right behind her. “Bobbi!” Mark said over Julia’s shoulder when she opened the door of the Jeep, “Tell Julia you just came along to be with me.”
“What? Are you insane? I don’t even like you, Mark!”
Mark said a few choice words, mostly expletives and derogatory to women. Julia just shut the Jeep door and put the vehicle in gear. Mark was still yelling and shaking his fist at them when Julia made a turn in the road and they lost sight of him.
“Julia, I didn’t…”
“You don’t have to say it, Bobbi. I know you didn’t do anything to encourage him. I’ve been seeing the signs lately that he’s looking for more than I’m willing to give. Small loss.”
“I’m sorry, anyway. You want to go home and we can have a cry fest and get some ice cream to go along with it?”
Julia shook her head. “Not a chance. I’d rather do the camping. I don’t think I’m going to be crying my eyes out for Mark. Now, look lively. Not only is it beautiful out here, it can be dangerous if the roads get washed out. We’re heading into the primitive camping area of the National Forest. Not too many come in here this late. Good chance of an early snow.”
“That’s why the extra supplies, right?”
“Partly. Also to have some if we run across someone who didn’t plan adequately. I’ve had to hand out some food, and especially water, a couple of times before.”
Bobbi smiled. “Okay. You’re stronger than me. Oh! I see what you mean! I know you’re a good driver, but be careful.”
It was some time later when Julia stopped the Jeep and the two women got out. “You are so right, Julia! It is beautiful out here! You should have made me come with you before.”
“You weren’t ready,” Julia replied, stretching hugely. “Don’t know what’s come over you, but I think it’s been good for you.”
“Yeah. My eyes have really been opened lately. To many different things. A year ago I never would have even considered having a rifle, much less a handgun.”
The two began unloading the Jeep and setting up the camp, Bobbi following Julia’s lead. After several moments of silence, Bobbi was talking again. “You know… It’s because I’m scared.”
“Scared? Of what?” Julia asked. “We’re well equipped to handle any dangers out here. Even the occasional cougar or bear.”
“No. Not here. I love it here already. About things… the economy… the way the government is going. All the natural disasters that are happening. Avian Flu and Swine Flu. What’s going to happen if one of those mega disasters happens? What if I lose my job because of the economy?”
“Well, as for your job, it’s pretty secure. So is mine. But that’s why I’ve always kept extra food and other consumables. In case of a layoff, or we can’t get in because of the weather.”
“All I ever did, before now, was keep a blanket and a bottle of water in my car. It never really hit me until I started reading the forums all the things that could happen. I think I worry the most about something happening to a child, and not being able to help because I don’t have any supplies.
“I had no idea how expensive first-aid gear is. Got a real shock when I started putting together a first-aid and trauma kit. Even getting the supplies through the company at a discount, it’s still expensive.”
“I know. I don’t have as much as I’d like, either. And it’s tough to get some of the medications I’d like to have on hand, for a doctor to use, in the aftermath of a disaster.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Bobbi mused. She pushed an aluminum tent pole through the sleeve of her tent. “My doctor and I have been friends for a long time. I think I might get her to prescribe some things. I’ll ask at my next check-up.”
“I tried with mine, but she was adamantly against any sort of prepping. Considers it hoarding and people that prep as trouble makers. Absolutely abhors guns.”
“You need a new doctor. You should come see Angie.”
“I may do that. Especially if you have good luck with her.”
The tents were up and the two women separated to put their respective gear inside. The wind had risen and it was threatening to rain or snow. “Are you sure we can’t have a real fire?” Bobbi asked.
“No. The risk is just too high. Let’s get things finished and we can have a hot meal before the weather dumps on us.”
Again following Julia’s lead, Bobbi set up her stove and began heating water to reconstitute a Mountain House meal. Either set of gear would have been fine, but Bobbi wanted the hands on experience of doing everything herself.
With the meal finished, and large mugs of hot chocolate ready, Bobbi, and then Julia used the chemical toilet set up in a privacy enclosure. Both women had one of their own, but Bobbi had helped Julia with hers and considered it adequate training.
“See you in the morning, Bobbi,” Julia said. “If you get scared, or something happens, come wake me up. I usually sleep like a log during bad weather.”
“Okay, Julia. Thanks again for letting me come along. Good night.”
Bobbi had the time of her life those three days. Julia was a good teacher and Bobbi an avid pupil. By the time they returned to the city, Julia was confident that Bobbi could camp on her own, barring really serious weather or other problems.
During the ensuing months, Bobbi became as much of a prepper as Julia. She graduated to a .223 carbine, another Ruger. Though she kept her Ruger 10/22, she picked up a Ruger SR-556. It was identical to the one Julia had, so they could share accessories and magazines.
Unlike Julia, who had a quite serviceable set of ALICE LBE gear dating from the Vietnam War, Bobbi went with an FMCO vest setup for eight thirty-round magazines, with several additional pouches for other items, including a three-liter water bladder.
As they gathered Bobbi’s equipment, getting her as ready as Julia, the two continued to watch the news with a jaundiced eye. And they made plans. Several different ones for different circumstances. One of which was a bug-out/evacuation plan.
Julia had a lot of faith in her Jeep, but it was a newer model, with sophisticated engine electronics. In the event of an EMP event it was likely to be disabled. And getting out of Reno might be a wise decision depending on what actually happened, if anything.
It was Bobbi that told Julia about the idea of using game carts as bug out equipment carriers to allow taking a great deal more equipment and supplies than could be carried on one’s back. While most of Bobbi’s recent purchases were from REI and Sportsman’s Warehouse, in Reno, the two took a trip just outside of town to the Cabela’s located near the California border.
Both got a bit sidetracked with the availability of so many things applicable to preparedness. But they finally worked their way to the selection of game carts the store carried. The clerk was a professional, and made no comment on the fact that they bought two of the Super Magnums with dual wheels, not for use as game carriers, but as evacuation aids. It seemed they were getting quite a few requests for them now. He wondered why, but didn’t ask where they got the idea.
On the way home with the game carts, Julia made two stops. The first one was at Wal-Mart, a place both women loathed, but the only local place they were sure they could find a pair of snow sleds they could make into pulks to use with the game carts in deep snow. Since they were there, they also picked up several Rubbermaid Action Packer totes. With a set for each game cart and the lashing straps to hold them in place on the carts, Julia headed for the Jeep dealer.
Despite the Jeep being a four door, there wasn’t space to carry one game cart, much less two, inside. The roof rack carried two spare tires and pioneer tools. And the carry rack above the rear mount spare tire already carried fuel cans. Even the front of the Jeep was out of the question. It too had a rack, this one with a fourth spare tire, winch, and additional tools.
So Julia chose a hitch mount fold down cargo carrier and had it installed. When they got home, they assembled the game carts, lashed the totes on, and set the assemblies on the platform. A couple of high fives later, satisfied that the set up would work, Julia and Bobbi carried the totes to the apartment to be packed up and stored, along with the folded up game carts.
The ability to evacuate gave both a sense of ease. For a while. Things just kept getting worse in the US and around the world. Gold was now over $1,100 an ounce, the stock market knocking on 11,000, and prices were going up, with the government saying that inflation was down.
Swine flu, Avian flu, and the regular old seasonal flu were all taking a toll on the population. US troops were still dying in several places around the world, and the nuclear club was growing. The last item was particularly disturbing, as the newcomers to that club were not the most stable of regimes, or had US hating fanatics in charge.
The first real test of Bobbi’s and Julia’s preparations came over the Christmas Holiday. A huge storm system coming in from the Pacific, due west of Reno, was forecast to dump a tremendous amount of snow on the mountains to the west of Reno. Normally Reno got only a small taste of even large storms, but this was different. The forecast for Reno was for feet of snow, not the normal few inches, with temperatures well below freezing.
Copyright 2009
“Okay,” Bobbi said, rather reluctantly. “I admit it was kind of fun.”
“Kinda fun?” Bobbi’s friend Julia said and barked a laugh. “You were having the time of your life!”
“I was not!” exclaimed Bobbi. “Om… Om… Om…” Bobbi had her eyes closed and was meditating.
“Can’t meditate away the fact that you liked shooting my pistol,” Julia said softly.
The Oms stopped for a second and when Julia looked over Bobbi was frowning slightly.
“Zen does not lend itself to violence. Om… Om… Om…”
“Sure it does,” Julia said, rather seriously.
Surprised, Bobbi looked over at her long time friend. “How?”
“Meditating, clearing the mind, calming down… Most shooters do something. I saw you get ready before you shot. You might not have been Oming, but you were calming down, just like I showed you. Call it the Z-factor, if you don’t want to connect it too closely with Zen. Besides… You’re Christian. What’s with all the Zen stuff lately?”
“It is so calming, Julia! You should really try it! I’ve found that if I don’t delve too deeply into it, there is no conflict with my religion. I’m often just praying silently when I do the Om.”
“I’ve got my own methods to calm down, thank you. If the big Z works for you, I’ll not say anything else about it. Better not. You shot almost as well as I do and it was your first time. You sure you weren’t a soldier or something in a past life?”
“That’s silly. I don’t believe in reincarnation any more. When you die your soul either goes to heaven or the other place. I was just in a stage back then.”
“Un-huh. A stage. Like some of the other ones.”
Bobbi went into pout mode. “You always make fun of my hobbies! I know I sometimes go off the deep end, but… not so much lately.”
“I know, Sweetie! I’m not criticizing. Just funning you a little.”
“Oh. Well, okay.” There was silence for a few minutes as Julia maneuvered in heavy traffic. “And besides,” Bobbi said, as if there’d been no delay, “What about you and your… uh… Preps you call it?”
“My preps, are a way of life with me. One you’d be well to adopt. Bobbi, the world is a dangerous place, and…”
“Om… Om… Om…”
Julia fell silent and sighed. Sometime there seemed to be no hope for Bobbi. Off on some tangent she had a rather weak grip on reality sometimes. Her dabble into Zen was no competition for her religion, just something to play around with until the next fad or whatever came along.
It had been rather amazing that Bobbi had agreed to go to the range with Julia that day. First time ever, and Julia had been trying to get her to go, literally for years. Julia glanced over at Bobbi and began to wonder what was different about her friend now.
“Om… Om… Om…”
Julia really began to wonder when Bobbi agreed to go not only shooting with Julia the next week-end, but to a gun show first.
Keeping a sharp eye on her wide-eyed, rather bedazzled friend, Julia guided them over to one of the ammunition vendors. Julia bought a case of .45ACP FMJ to get her stocks back up to a more comfortable level after the recent shortage of ammunition.
Bobbi looked rather longingly over her shoulder when Julia headed out to put the ammunition into her Jeep. “Can we go back in?”
Julia was surprised. “Well… Sure… But I didn’t want to insult your Zen self.”
“Nah. That’s just the Z-factor. Like you said. I realized it this past week. Meditation is good, but it isn’t my religion. I use it now when I just need to get away from things for a couple of minutes. Can we go back?”
“Yep. You got your hand stamped didn’t you?”
Bobbi held up her arm proudly. There was the reentry stamp. “Okay,” Julia said, “Let’s go back.”
It was Julia that had to call it a day, after spending all morning and most of the afternoon wandering around the exhibits. Bobbi had a question about nearly everything. Julia was able to answer most, but when she wasn’t sure there was always a male standing nearby more than willing to provide the information. And take plenty of time doing it. More than once Julia had to nudge Bobbi to keep moving.
When Julia said she was ready to go get something to eat, Bobbi frowned. “I want to look at one of the guns again.”
Wearily Julia agreed. Bobbi made a beeline to one of the tables catering to women shooters. “Can I have that one?” Bobbi asked, pointing to a pink stocked 10-22 .22 rimfire rifle.
Julia thought she was going to faint. Bobbi was in the process of buying a gun. A twenty-two, but a real gun, never the less.
“Bobbi! Are you sure you want a gun of your own? Did you even bring any money?”
“Sure! See.” Bobbi carefully opened the bag she used as a purse. There was a wad of folded bills that would choke a horse, Julia thought.
Julia just stood and watched as Bobbi was led through the process of buying the rifle. She could even take immediate possession since they were in Nevada. She declined to get any accessories for it, except for ten spare Ruger 10-round magazines. Julia did talk her into getting a cleaning kit, eye and hearing protection, and they picked up two bricks of .22 LR ammunition on the way out.
“I can’t wait! Let’s go to the range right now!” Bobbi said excitedly when they were both in the Jeep.
“I have to eat something first,” Julia said. “I’m starving.”
“Oh. Yeah. So am I. Let’s get something fast.”
“You are not going off your health diet to go shooting. We can take the time to eat a real, healthy, meal.”
“I guess you’re right,” Bobbi said, slumping back in the Jeep’s front passenger seat. She only pouted a little.
The eagerness was back when they finished their late lunch and were on the way to the range. Julia explained all the safety aspects of shooting, Bobbi’s second lesson in a week. Julia was pleased that she took it all in raptly. The weekend before Bobbi had paid attention, but was more interested, at first, in just getting done what she had decided was going to be an ordeal.
Bobbi asked some questions, and then, with Julia convinced her friend could handle the rifle safely, showed her how to load it. Bobbi nodded and set the rifle down on the bench. She closed her eyes and the Oms were back. Half a dozen of them. When she saw Julia looking at her she shrugged and said, “The Z-factor. I’m ready now.”
Julia’s thumb was worn almost raw reloading the ten round magazines so Bobbi could just keep shooting. Bobbi went through the first brick of .22 shells and was ready for more, but Julia called a halt. It was beginning to get dark and her thumb ached. “You always want to have some ammunition available. Never shoot it all up, unless you’re defending your life.”
“That’s smart. Julia, you really know a lot of good stuff.”
“Yeah. Well, thank you. I think. Now let’s go home and get the rifle cleaned and put up before we get something to eat.”
“Can we celebrate? Me getting a gun?”
“Sure. The budget is fine. We can spare a little extra for a celebration.”
“Cool!” Bobbi replied and carefully carried the rifle back to the Jeep after putting it in the silicone sock Julia bought for her at the range shop. It, too, was pink.
Over the next several weeks, Julia observed subtle changes in Bobbi’s outlook. Bobbi had latched onto the ‘Z-factor’ much more tightly than usual for one of her tangential episodes. But it was almost entirely devoted to the shooting sports. Bobbi wanted to go every week-end now. And before each session, she did the Om thing for a couple of minutes to relax and center herself. Or so she said.
When Bobbi asked to shoot Julia’s CCW carry gun, a Para Ordnance version of the venerable Colt 1911 semi-auto pistol, she did the same thing the first time. “I don’t know,” Bobbi said after putting three 12-round magazines through the gun. “I kind of like it. But it’s pretty plain.”
“Being plain doesn’t make it inefficient or unable to do the job. Speaking of which, you really need to rethink your Z-factor warm up when you shoot a pistol. It’s fine when you’re target shooting, but not so good if there are bad guys shooting at you. You have to be quick and precise.”
Bobbi, to Julia’s surprise, nodded and said, “That makes sense. I’ll remember that.”
Julia found Bobbi on the computer a couple of times the next week looking at gun sites and even at least one preparedness site. Julia didn’t say anything. If Bobbi was finally coming around on the subject of preps, then so much the better. With some people, Bobbi being a perfect example, you didn’t push. You provided opportunity and responded to questions.
That was pretty much it until the next gun show came to the city. Julia was stunned when Bobbi handed her a computer generated ticket to the show and held up hers. “I thought we could go to the gun show tomorrow. I got tickets online so we wouldn’t have to wait so long in line to get in.”
“Well… Sure. Wasn’t planning to this time, but okay. If you want to, we certainly will.”
Bobbi made a rapid circuit of the show the next day, but came back to one table shortly afterwards. Julia just stayed with her and kept an eye on things. Bobbi was on a mission, and she sometimes wasn’t very aware of what was around her.
The table where Bobbi stopped and look for some time carried a line of custom handgun grips, including those for 1911 design pistols.
“That one,” Bobbi said, pointing at a pair of grips under the glass top of the display case.
“This one?” asked the dealer pointing to one of the closely spaced grips.
“Nope. One to your left. Yes. That one. Can I see it up close?”
The dealer handed the two thin slabs of wood to Bobbi and waited expectantly.
“Uh… Bobbi… If you’re thinking about those as a gift for me…”
“No. Of course not. They’re for me. I’m going to get a pistol to fit them.”
“A pistol to fit the grip? Is she kidding?” the dealer asked Julia.
“No, she’s not kidding,” Julia told the dealer, but she leaned close and whispered to Bobbi, “Bobbi! Let’s discuss this! You don’t just buy grips and then go find a pistol to fit them.”
“Why not? I already know the pistol I want. Just like yours, only prettier. That table was really busy so I came over here, first.”
“You’ve got a 1911 picked out? Where?”
“Would you hold these for me?” Bobbi asked the dealer, handing the fancy grips back to him. She then led Julia on quite a chase through the three rooms of the gun show.
Julia happened to be looking at Bobbi when they came up to the table. Bobbi was enchanted. Julia looked down to where Bobbi was looking on the table. “Oh, Bobbi! That pistol goes for over three grand!”
“But isn’t it like yours, only with the silver plating and gold inlay?”
“Well… Yes… But…”
“And it’ll shoot okay? It’s not just for show?”
The dealer answered for Julia. “Yes indeed! Only had a few rounds put through it, but it is a shooter, for sure!”
“I want it.” Bobbi didn’t look at Julia as she handed the dealer her credit card and took the clipboard with the paperwork to be filled out. An old hand at it now, Bobbi made quick work as Julia tried to come up with some reason for Bobbi not to get the gun.
Bobbi certainly had the money, but in Julia’s eyes, the fancy gun was a waste of it. Better to get a cheaper model that was just as effective, such as hers, and get more supplies for it with the rest of the money.
But Bobbi was so set on the gun that Julia didn’t have the heart to try and talk her out of it. With Julia’s tacit, but unspoken agreement, Bobbi got on a roll. Pistol in a bag, she went back and got the grips she wanted, batted her eyes a couple of times and got the dealer to throw in silver plated screws and attach the grips to the pistol for free.
A direct route next to a table selling high grade magazines for the gun. Eight rounders, stainless steel, to go with the silver plated gun. Twenty of them. Then on to a custom leatherworker for a belt, holster, and magazine pouches, with fine tooling, of course.
The last stop before they left the show was at the ammunition dealer to get more .22 LR ammunition and two cases of .45ACP FMJ to use in the new Colt.
Bobbi was smiling, but silent, on the way to the range. “You really sure you want to shoot it?” Julia asked finally. “It’s really more of a collector item than a shooter.”
“You know I like pretty things. It’s even better when they are useful,” Bobbi replied.
Julia had to admit a couple of hours later that the fancy gun was indeed a shooter. A very good shooter. And with a little help from a couple of willing ‘experts’, Bobbi learned how to draw and fire the gun from the holster. Not super fast, but fast enough and very accurate. Julia was a bit jealous of how well Bobbi shot with so little practice.
Happy as a clam, Bobbi put everything away after cleaning the gun when they got home and changed clothes to go out for another celebratory dinner out.
Turning Bobbi into a fledgling prepper after that was relatively easy for Julia. Bobbi spent most of her spare time on the computer, catching up on information that was old hat to Julia. And questions… She asked hundreds of them. Most Julia could answer, but on occasion one that they both had to look up. Julia wasn’t much of one for the prep and PAW fiction on some of the forums, but Bobbi, seldom without a book handy, took to it like it was candy. She spent countless hours reading the fiction.
Then, when her current boyfriend asked Julia to go camping over the Labor Day weekend a couple weeks before the event, Bobbi cautiously asked to go along. Normally the two kept their romantic lives to themselves. But when Julia asked Mark if Bobbi could tag along he agreed. A bit too eagerly in Julia’s eyes.
But Bobbi didn’t have any camping gear. So Bobbi went into shopping mode, occasionally asking Julia for advice, but making most of the choices on her own. Most everything was purchased on-line, with delivery times well in time for the trip.
By the time the day they were to leave on the camping trip, Bobbi was as well equipped for a wilderness camping trip as Julia. Everything they would need for the three-day weekend, plus a week’s extra consumables, just in case, was loaded into the back of Julia’s Jeep. They would meet Mark at the entrance to the section of the National Forest where they would be camping.
Mark, as usual, Julia suddenly realized, was late. Julia and Bobbi waited in the Jeep for him to come over from his car. “I thought you were going to rent a pickup for this trip. That car will never make it. You know that,” Julia told Mark.
“I know. I figured to ride in with you. I’ll get my gear.”
Julia got out of the Jeep and hurried over to Mark at his small car. Bobbi, sensing the tension in Julia, stayed where she was.
“Mark! This is all you brought? What about a tent? It’s going to be cold. And I only see a couple of bottles of water. Where’s your food and water and emergency supplies?”
“Oh, I figured you’d have all that. I brought my own sleeping bag. Figured on sharing your tent.”
“Oh, you did, did you? Well, that’s not going to happen now or ever. Just put that stuff back in your car and go home. We’re done.”
“Not so fast. Let’s see what Bobbi has to say about this. She wanted to go. Maybe you should take my car and go home and Bobbi and I can go on this little jaunt together. I’m sure that’s what she was wanting, anyway.”
“You slug!” Julia said, her voice low and intense. “Bobbi wants nothing to do with you. She has a steady boyfriend. You’ve had a roving eye ever since we started going out. Should have known that when your eye roved to me, it would at some point rove again. Good-bye!”
Julia turned and walked back to the Jeep. She didn’t realize Mark was right behind her. “Bobbi!” Mark said over Julia’s shoulder when she opened the door of the Jeep, “Tell Julia you just came along to be with me.”
“What? Are you insane? I don’t even like you, Mark!”
Mark said a few choice words, mostly expletives and derogatory to women. Julia just shut the Jeep door and put the vehicle in gear. Mark was still yelling and shaking his fist at them when Julia made a turn in the road and they lost sight of him.
“Julia, I didn’t…”
“You don’t have to say it, Bobbi. I know you didn’t do anything to encourage him. I’ve been seeing the signs lately that he’s looking for more than I’m willing to give. Small loss.”
“I’m sorry, anyway. You want to go home and we can have a cry fest and get some ice cream to go along with it?”
Julia shook her head. “Not a chance. I’d rather do the camping. I don’t think I’m going to be crying my eyes out for Mark. Now, look lively. Not only is it beautiful out here, it can be dangerous if the roads get washed out. We’re heading into the primitive camping area of the National Forest. Not too many come in here this late. Good chance of an early snow.”
“That’s why the extra supplies, right?”
“Partly. Also to have some if we run across someone who didn’t plan adequately. I’ve had to hand out some food, and especially water, a couple of times before.”
Bobbi smiled. “Okay. You’re stronger than me. Oh! I see what you mean! I know you’re a good driver, but be careful.”
It was some time later when Julia stopped the Jeep and the two women got out. “You are so right, Julia! It is beautiful out here! You should have made me come with you before.”
“You weren’t ready,” Julia replied, stretching hugely. “Don’t know what’s come over you, but I think it’s been good for you.”
“Yeah. My eyes have really been opened lately. To many different things. A year ago I never would have even considered having a rifle, much less a handgun.”
The two began unloading the Jeep and setting up the camp, Bobbi following Julia’s lead. After several moments of silence, Bobbi was talking again. “You know… It’s because I’m scared.”
“Scared? Of what?” Julia asked. “We’re well equipped to handle any dangers out here. Even the occasional cougar or bear.”
“No. Not here. I love it here already. About things… the economy… the way the government is going. All the natural disasters that are happening. Avian Flu and Swine Flu. What’s going to happen if one of those mega disasters happens? What if I lose my job because of the economy?”
“Well, as for your job, it’s pretty secure. So is mine. But that’s why I’ve always kept extra food and other consumables. In case of a layoff, or we can’t get in because of the weather.”
“All I ever did, before now, was keep a blanket and a bottle of water in my car. It never really hit me until I started reading the forums all the things that could happen. I think I worry the most about something happening to a child, and not being able to help because I don’t have any supplies.
“I had no idea how expensive first-aid gear is. Got a real shock when I started putting together a first-aid and trauma kit. Even getting the supplies through the company at a discount, it’s still expensive.”
“I know. I don’t have as much as I’d like, either. And it’s tough to get some of the medications I’d like to have on hand, for a doctor to use, in the aftermath of a disaster.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Bobbi mused. She pushed an aluminum tent pole through the sleeve of her tent. “My doctor and I have been friends for a long time. I think I might get her to prescribe some things. I’ll ask at my next check-up.”
“I tried with mine, but she was adamantly against any sort of prepping. Considers it hoarding and people that prep as trouble makers. Absolutely abhors guns.”
“You need a new doctor. You should come see Angie.”
“I may do that. Especially if you have good luck with her.”
The tents were up and the two women separated to put their respective gear inside. The wind had risen and it was threatening to rain or snow. “Are you sure we can’t have a real fire?” Bobbi asked.
“No. The risk is just too high. Let’s get things finished and we can have a hot meal before the weather dumps on us.”
Again following Julia’s lead, Bobbi set up her stove and began heating water to reconstitute a Mountain House meal. Either set of gear would have been fine, but Bobbi wanted the hands on experience of doing everything herself.
With the meal finished, and large mugs of hot chocolate ready, Bobbi, and then Julia used the chemical toilet set up in a privacy enclosure. Both women had one of their own, but Bobbi had helped Julia with hers and considered it adequate training.
“See you in the morning, Bobbi,” Julia said. “If you get scared, or something happens, come wake me up. I usually sleep like a log during bad weather.”
“Okay, Julia. Thanks again for letting me come along. Good night.”
Bobbi had the time of her life those three days. Julia was a good teacher and Bobbi an avid pupil. By the time they returned to the city, Julia was confident that Bobbi could camp on her own, barring really serious weather or other problems.
During the ensuing months, Bobbi became as much of a prepper as Julia. She graduated to a .223 carbine, another Ruger. Though she kept her Ruger 10/22, she picked up a Ruger SR-556. It was identical to the one Julia had, so they could share accessories and magazines.
Unlike Julia, who had a quite serviceable set of ALICE LBE gear dating from the Vietnam War, Bobbi went with an FMCO vest setup for eight thirty-round magazines, with several additional pouches for other items, including a three-liter water bladder.
As they gathered Bobbi’s equipment, getting her as ready as Julia, the two continued to watch the news with a jaundiced eye. And they made plans. Several different ones for different circumstances. One of which was a bug-out/evacuation plan.
Julia had a lot of faith in her Jeep, but it was a newer model, with sophisticated engine electronics. In the event of an EMP event it was likely to be disabled. And getting out of Reno might be a wise decision depending on what actually happened, if anything.
It was Bobbi that told Julia about the idea of using game carts as bug out equipment carriers to allow taking a great deal more equipment and supplies than could be carried on one’s back. While most of Bobbi’s recent purchases were from REI and Sportsman’s Warehouse, in Reno, the two took a trip just outside of town to the Cabela’s located near the California border.
Both got a bit sidetracked with the availability of so many things applicable to preparedness. But they finally worked their way to the selection of game carts the store carried. The clerk was a professional, and made no comment on the fact that they bought two of the Super Magnums with dual wheels, not for use as game carriers, but as evacuation aids. It seemed they were getting quite a few requests for them now. He wondered why, but didn’t ask where they got the idea.
On the way home with the game carts, Julia made two stops. The first one was at Wal-Mart, a place both women loathed, but the only local place they were sure they could find a pair of snow sleds they could make into pulks to use with the game carts in deep snow. Since they were there, they also picked up several Rubbermaid Action Packer totes. With a set for each game cart and the lashing straps to hold them in place on the carts, Julia headed for the Jeep dealer.
Despite the Jeep being a four door, there wasn’t space to carry one game cart, much less two, inside. The roof rack carried two spare tires and pioneer tools. And the carry rack above the rear mount spare tire already carried fuel cans. Even the front of the Jeep was out of the question. It too had a rack, this one with a fourth spare tire, winch, and additional tools.
So Julia chose a hitch mount fold down cargo carrier and had it installed. When they got home, they assembled the game carts, lashed the totes on, and set the assemblies on the platform. A couple of high fives later, satisfied that the set up would work, Julia and Bobbi carried the totes to the apartment to be packed up and stored, along with the folded up game carts.
The ability to evacuate gave both a sense of ease. For a while. Things just kept getting worse in the US and around the world. Gold was now over $1,100 an ounce, the stock market knocking on 11,000, and prices were going up, with the government saying that inflation was down.
Swine flu, Avian flu, and the regular old seasonal flu were all taking a toll on the population. US troops were still dying in several places around the world, and the nuclear club was growing. The last item was particularly disturbing, as the newcomers to that club were not the most stable of regimes, or had US hating fanatics in charge.
The first real test of Bobbi’s and Julia’s preparations came over the Christmas Holiday. A huge storm system coming in from the Pacific, due west of Reno, was forecast to dump a tremendous amount of snow on the mountains to the west of Reno. Normally Reno got only a small taste of even large storms, but this was different. The forecast for Reno was for feet of snow, not the normal few inches, with temperatures well below freezing.
Copyright 2009
