Ah, another ‘tactical timeshare’.

 

FORTITUDE RANCH, Colo., Dec 23 (Reuters) – Aiming an AR-15 rifle across a Colorado valley dotted with antelope and cattle, Drew Miller explains how members of his new survival ranch would ride out an apocalypse.

The former U.S. Air Force intelligence officer said his latest Fortitude Ranch community, under construction below mountain forests, will shelter Americans fleeing anything from a bioengineered pandemic to an attack on the electricity grid.

For an annual fee of around $1,000, members can vacation at the camps in good times, and use them as a refuge during a societal collapse.

“If you’ve got a lot of weapons, if you’ve got a lot of members at guard posts, defensive walls, we don’t think we’re going to need to fight,” said Miller, crouching on top of a fortified position on the camp perimeter.

The expansion of Miller’s camp chain underscores the growing mainstream appeal of the “prepper” movement long associated with anti-government survivalists.

I am all about entrepreneurship. But next time you’re in a crowded elevator imagine having to ride out Ragnarok with the people standing next to you. The notion of running off to some heavily fortified Holiday Inn has some appeal but, geez, even when it isn’t the end of the world your average co-op board is a pit of vipers. Now imagine that co-op board wearing multicam.

What makes a ‘survial group’ or ‘mutual aid group’ isn’t the gear, it’s the people. Twenty strangers in a fortified compound will be less effective and less efficient, I wager, than twenty close friends or close family members camped in a burned out WalMart. Community is about people, not buildings. We like to say that spending all the money in the world on super-high-speed gear will not make you an ‘expert’ (or whatever)….same story with people. You can’t really expect that just because you’ve built an awesome Führerbunker it means that throwing a random selection of people in it will create a close-knit group that is willing to take risks and look out for each other. When it’s the end of the world and I need someone to keep an eye on things while I catch some sleep, I’m going to feel a lot better knowing its my buddy I’ve known for twenty years and not some manager from a Kansas Best Buy I just met yesterday.

Your mileage may vary, but any ‘stronghold’ whose requirement for admission is the ability to have their check clear seems like a bad place to ride out a rough episode. I’d rather take my chances with a half-dozen longtime friends and family in the shattered remains of my house than share a communal bathroom with a hundred armed strangers whose main bond is a shared zip code.