For years, decades, I have kept a go-bag in the closet near the front door. Our house is a quarter-mile from the train tracks. My worst fear has been a train crash with railroad cars carrying hazardous materials, but there are many more reasons for having a go-bag readily available.
I don't call it a go-bag, I call it my tucker-bag, although semantically speaking a tucker-bag is an Australian designation for a bag in which food is carried. And, yes, there is food in my bag. The contents are: folding eyeglasses, notebook, extra cloth backpack, two bladder pads, pair mesh shoes, black sharpie, two face masks, large terry towel, black leggings, denim jeans, heavy gloves, two underpants, sports bra, small fanny belt, socklets, neck purse, blue long sleeve shirt, black long sleeve shirt, neosporin, box bandaids, one-a-day vitamins, Combos, M&M's.
My tucker-bag does require maintenance. From time to time I check the food items, some of which have expiration dates. For gosh sakes, I wouldn't want to be caught in an emergency with stale M&Ms.
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