Saskatoon StarPhoenix

PREPARE FOR THE WORST ENJOY THE PRESENT

At Fortitude Ranch, the cabin is for vacations — the shelters are for survival

- FREDRICK KUNKLE

LOST CITY, W.VA. Drew Miller, who heads a survivalis­t camp here, sometimes talks as if time is divided into two periods.

There are the good days, which are generally now. And there are the bad days, which could come anytime through deadly epidemics, economic collapse, nuclear war or political upheaval.

In good times, the tree house at Fortitude Ranch is a place for children to play. In bad times, Miller said, it would become a guard tower.

In good times, the mountainou­s landscape offers an inviting place for hiking, zip-lining or disc golf. Bad times: The ranch’s wooded slopes would become fields of fire to protect the camp’s inhabitant­s from their most dangerous threat — other people.

“It’s just human nature,” Miller said. “The worst enemy you face in a pandemic could well be your neighbour.”

Miller, along with about 100 other people who he said have purchased Fortitude Ranch membership­s, believes that undergroun­d bunkers, stockpiled food and semi-automatic weapons will see them through an apocalypse, however it may come.

Some preppers — people who invest significan­t amounts of money and time in preparing for anything from a natural disaster to the collapse of civilizati­on — think the end may come sooner than later. In addition to worrying about

You know, people use the term ‘civil war’ and that seems hard to imagine, but what started the First World War? Some guy assassinat­ed a minor archduke. Drew Miller

overpopula­tion, climate change, economic collapse and war, some also fret about politics. With impeachmen­t in the air and tensions building toward the 2020 presidenti­al race, preppers warn that violence could erupt in this fiercely polarized nation.

“You know, people use the term ‘civil war,’ and that seems hard to imagine, but what started the First World War? Some guy assassinat­ed a minor archduke . ... ” Miller said. “Stuff escalates unpredicta­bly.”

The scenario most often advanced by ranch members concerns the possibilit­y of a disputed election. There’s fear by some members that if President Donald Trump loses, he might blame cheating and refuse to step down. Others believe that if Trump wins, his opponents might also blame the outcome on fraud, triggering unrest. It’s not a scenario Miller thinks likely, but he’s heard it from both sides.

Trump, in one of a series of tweets trying to discredit the impeachmen­t inquiry launched by House Democrats, has stoked tensions further, suggesting his removal from office could trigger a “civil war-like fracture.”

That’s the scenario David Jones, a Fortitude Ranch member who’s also something of a celebrity prepper, believes could set off unrest. Jones, 62, a former Alaska state trooper and Army veteran, is known as the “NBC Guy” because of his military background in nuclear, biological and chemical warfare.

He has also worked in state and federal emergency management agencies. He has a podcast and was one of this year’s featured speakers at Prepper Camp, a three-day symposium that attracted more than 1,000 off-the-gridders, survivalis­ts and homesteade­rs to a private campsite last month in North Carolina. Jones said he foresees turmoil, and perhaps violence, whether Trump wins or loses.

“You see, the veneer of civilizati­on is very thin,” Jones said.

Fortitude Ranch occupies more than 50 acres within the George Washington National Forest. Its serene setting belies talk of catastroph­e. On a recent tour, there were green mountain vistas just below the clouds and a stillness broken only by the soft patter of rain on leaves.

Members, who pay about $1,000 per person per year to be a part of the community, are encouraged to use the ranch’s two large rustic cabins here as vacation lodgings. In the event of emergency, however, they would head to three-metre-bythree-metre, claustroph­obia-inducing rooms in undergroun­d shelters, some of which are constructe­d of metal culverts. Altogether, the compound here can hold up to 500 people.

The organizati­on also has two sites in Colorado. It’s working to set up a fourth in Wisconsin. The motto: “Prepare for the Worst — Enjoy the Present.”

The camp is a reflection of a survivalis­t movement that has grown in recent years, although reliable numbers are hard to find. The Federal Emergency Management Agency, which analyzes community preparedne­ss, doesn’t track survivalis­ts. And many preppers are reluctant to identify as such or discuss their activities, fearing that attention could attract marauders when things go south.

The number of preppers also tends to expand and recede in sync with social crises, both real and imagined. (Remember Y2K?) But interest appears to have grown since the Great Recession. Google searches for terms such as “survivalis­t” began ticking upward in mid-2008 as the economic crisis deepened. Reality TV — Doomsday Preppers on the National Geographic Channel in 2011 and Apocalypse Preppers on the Discovery

Channel in 2013 — fed the end-of-days craze and fed off it.

24/7Wallst.com, a financial news website, estimated in 2013 that there are 3.7 million preppers and a multibilli­on-dollar market that includes “bugout gear” such as freeze-dried foods, water purificati­on systems, crossbows and tools. Businesses such as the Ready Store and the website Doomsday Prep have built on the movement, too.

David Sanders, Doomsday Prep’s owner, launched the Atlanta-based online store in 2012. Although Sanders declined to provide exact sales figures, he said that except for a flat year or two around 2015, the business has had annual growth of about 25 per cent. His orders increase in sync with disasters or other bad news, such as the outbreak of Zika virus.

The bitterly divided political atmosphere is a driver right now, Sanders said. But his typical customer is someone who thinks about enduring a power outage for a few days, not a nuclear holocaust, although the website sells supplies and equipment for that, too.

“Preparedne­ss is a choice for empowermen­t, security and peace of mind,” he said. “Why would anyone not choose that?”

Miller’s experience with doomsday scenarios goes back to the Cold War. He’s a retired colonel in U.S. air force intelligen­ce. He’s also a

Harvard PHD, cryptocurr­ency consultant and author of a post-apocalypti­c novel, Rohan Nation: Reinventin­g America after the 2020 Collapse. He’s disdainful of the recent prepper craze, especially the reality TV shows that often focus on the most wide-eyed survivalis­ts and hold them up for ridicule.

“It really hurt preppers,” Miller said. Fortitude Ranch, he said, offers a more sober and realistic strategy for survival that draws on his own profession­al military experience. “I’ve been a prepper a long time,” he said.

Raymond Andrew Miller, 61, grew up in Lincoln, Neb., about an hour’s drive from the U.S. Strategic

Air Command at Offutt Air Force Base, a prime target for the Soviet Union. Yet, Miller said, he didn’t dwell on the threat of nuclear annihilati­on, even after reading somewhere that Soviet ICBMS were accurate only to within about 100 kilometres.

“I thought, ‘Oh, that’s great. They’re going to aim for Offutt, and it’s going to land in Lincoln,’ ” Miller said.

He volunteere­d for the Civil Air Patrol when he was 13 years old. He entered the U.S. air force Academy, graduating in 1980 with a double major in history and internatio­nal affairs. He obtained master’s and PHD degrees at Harvard University’s John F. Kennedy School of Government. His dissertati­on argued that NATO troops could survive a Warsaw Pact nuclear blitz at little cost if the allies built 10,000 inexpensiv­e shelters using metal culverts with some dirt on top.

“Three feet of earth is kind of the magic number,” Miller said. “That’s why at Fortitude Ranch we have shallow undergroun­d facilities. No one’s going to drop a penetratin­g multi-megaton nuclear warhead in our area.”

Miller has analyzed other lethal threats, too, particular­ly pandemics, that he thinks are more likely to occur than another civil war. He noted that the 1918-1920 “Spanish flu” pandemic alone killed an estimated 30 million people. The next such outbreak could be started with a geneticall­y engineered pathogen that has been designed to be more lethal and resistant to treatment, Miller said.

He also wants to ensure Fortitude Ranch could survive natural disasters, such as hurricane Katrina; the eruption of a supervolca­no, such as the one below Yellowston­e National Park; or widespread civil disorder, such as occurred during the 1977 New York City blackout when rioting broke out and nearly 2,000 businesses were burned or looted. He wants the ranch to be prepared for nuclear attack, economic collapse or an electromag­netic pulse (EMP), a massive burst of energy that could fry the nation’s electrical grid.

There are stockpiles of food, ranging from homemade preserves to cans and buckets of emergency rations, and a small greenhouse, along with seeds specially created to have a long shelf life. There are chickens, goats and — at the Colorado location — cattle.

The ranch has radio gear and solarand propane-powered electrical generators, along with supplies of coal, kerosene and wood. Down the hill from the main bunker is a burn pit to dispose of contaminat­ed bodies during a pandemic. Miller said he’s already tested the pit with a dead goat.

Miller and assistant camp managers are armed, and members receive training in using AR-15 semi-automatic rifles or pump-action shotguns for self-defence, but he emphasized his group is not allied in any way with anti-government militias.

“We’re not gun nuts,” Miller said. He has never had to shoot at anyone, although he came under rocket and mortar fire while serving in Iraq. But he said he is prepared to do whatever is necessary to defend himself, his family and members of Fortitude Ranch. There’s a saying among preppers — “72 hours to animal” — that suggests anyone can become dangerous when desperate.

And yet his worst nightmare is imagining a mother arriving at the camp’s gates with a starving child during a pandemic and asking for help. Survival discipline, he said, requires even they be turned away.

“There’s going to be so much panic,” Miller said.

Preparedne­ss is a choice for empowermen­t, security and peace of mind. Why would anyone not choose that?

 ?? PHOTOS: MICHAEL S. WILLIAMSON/FOR THE WASHINGTON POST ?? Drew Miller walks the grounds of Fortitude Ranch, within the George Washington National Forest, with a guard dog.
PHOTOS: MICHAEL S. WILLIAMSON/FOR THE WASHINGTON POST Drew Miller walks the grounds of Fortitude Ranch, within the George Washington National Forest, with a guard dog.
 ??  ?? Drew Miller stands inside a well-stocked fortified bunker that is still under constructi­on.
Drew Miller stands inside a well-stocked fortified bunker that is still under constructi­on.
 ?? PHOTOS: MICHAEL S. WILLIAMSON/FOR THE WASHINGTON POST ?? Steve Rene exits a bunker that’s under constructi­on at Fortitude Ranch.
PHOTOS: MICHAEL S. WILLIAMSON/FOR THE WASHINGTON POST Steve Rene exits a bunker that’s under constructi­on at Fortitude Ranch.
 ??  ?? Drew Miller stands inside a fortified bunker that is still being built. Fortitude Ranch can hold up to 500 people.
Drew Miller stands inside a fortified bunker that is still being built. Fortitude Ranch can hold up to 500 people.
 ??  ?? Drew Miller stands in a tree house at Fortitude Ranch, a survivalis­t camp in West Virginia. If there were a breakdown in society, the tree house would become a guard tower.
Drew Miller stands in a tree house at Fortitude Ranch, a survivalis­t camp in West Virginia. If there were a breakdown in society, the tree house would become a guard tower.
 ??  ?? Fortitude Ranch employee Steve Rene keeps an eye on the property from his home.
Fortitude Ranch employee Steve Rene keeps an eye on the property from his home.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada