I was taken on a small game hunt to a remote canyon outside of a remote valley, in a remote mountain range, on the border of two of this nation’s least populated and most remote states. Few places are more remote in the continental U.S. This beautiful sprawling mountain, simply one of two dozen which are part of National Forest ground within a 30 mile radius, rises tier upon tier to 10,000 feet. My guide once hunted this area on horseback and didn’t see a soul for days. Indeed, this was easy to imagine, as he took me into a neighboring canyon and sent me up a rugged footpath and I saw not a soul for hours, was the only man other than he in the entire little world beyond the reach of automobiles…

Then we drove up this mountain, across its sprawling shoulders, through its meadows and up its defiles. He was shocked, scandalized, that this remote mountain [he says it is not remote because there is an area more remote in Wyoming] but this is something that is remote by any urban or suburban definition, was crammed with thousands of people perhaps even two thousand machines. Indeed, the only locations he can show me that are functionally more remote are closer to cities but have no vehicular access. Nothing is remote in these United States that is on a road network. One can drive directly from this mountain to any major U.S. city without leaving a road that connects to a road that connects to this place and Washington D.C. We live on a road network, not in a country.

After seeing 13 distinct trailer parks, and failing to access many better camping sites on the same mountain, I am guessing that the formerly pristine wilderness was temporary home to 800 families, each of whom typically had a 35K pickup truck, a 70K camper and a tow-behind platform transporting between 1 and 4 off road vehicles. Everything the bad guys in the next Road Warrior movie need was on that mountain along with everything the good guys need too. This wilderness mountain, for the last week of summer vacation was the largest trailer park I have ever seen.

Survival-minded people obsess over the real Camp of the Saints occurring in France [so many people have verbally outlined the story plot in spoiling detail to me that I can’t bring myself to read it]. But at least those Indians don’t show up equipped for a motorized expedition into the depths of a continent.

If you are on a road there is no place to hide from the suburban and urban zombie hipster hordes when the net goes down. The Golden Horde, of urban refugees that survivalists and preppers are so worried about in the event of a major social collapse are mostly going to die in the rat trap cities they now destroy one brick at a time. They don’t even have vehicles. However, the people who live within a day’s walk of that pillaging urban mob, they may have over 100k in recreational hardware to bring liberal suburbia and its never-ending demands for armed government interference to your front door.

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