The Solitary Man’s Refuge (30 page)

“I got my bags packed and extra towels and linens
already boxed up.” Betty said trying to coax her son into
making a definitive decision on when they were leaving
what might soon be a hell-hole existence.

“Let me go by the local agency office tomorrow and
then hopefully I will meet up with Janice and after that I will
make a quick decision to most likely leave the morning
after. I wouldn’t mind spending some more time with
Lowbuck and Cat before they have to go. I don’t know why
I am going to waste the gas to go down to the office, but I
suppose it’s just an effort to say I tried to report in. By the
way, have you smelled very much grilling going on? It’s
been almost two weeks and folks that don’t have natural
gas stoves likely have burned up what charcoal they had
on hand.” Donald asked trying to gauge the city populace’s
conditions.

“Now that you mention it, it smells more like wood
smoke and burnt paper around here. No cooking meat
smells. The first week it smelled like one big barbecue joint
around here. Guess everyone is cooking can goods by
now with no ice or refrigeration. Water and gas are still on
thank God, though. I have been boiling the water like you
said just to be on the safe side after the first week. By the
way, that PVC access hole you showed me for the sewer
connection outside is too tight for me to open. That would
have been a real mess if I hadn’t been able to stuff it full of
rags if the sewers started to backup after the water went
off. I want you to fix that before we leave; I don’t want to
have a mess to come back to.” Donald’s Mom said
positively and he flinched because he doubted it would
ever happen in her lifetime that a return trip might be
considered.

“I bet she makes the beds before we leave also.”
Donald mused to himself with a half smile she was taking
it so well.

Donald didn’t know it, but back on his other home
front Michael and LowBuck were making some serious
progress on his little field fortification.

LowBuck and Michael were straining to set the
large log center pole onto its posts for Donald’s cookhouse
bunker when Amy and Cat wandered up from the house.

“Damn that Donald, here we are we two bad backs
and that sucker probably has found the only bar open this
side of the Mason Dixon Line open and is having a good
old time.” Michael said trying to wiggle the beam closer to
the notch it was supposed to sit in.

“I hope he is at that, means he might be toting back
some booze before I take off. Ok, hold what you got.”
Bubba said, heaving the heavy beam the last few inches it
needed to go in on his side.

“Good deal!” Michael exclaimed as his end settled
into its mortise and tenon placement.

“You boys been working up a sweat, take a break.”
Amy said, settling down on the picnic table to have a chat
with them.

“We got an idea we want to discuss with you.” Cat
said smiling and sitting down next to Amy.

 

“What’s up?’ I hope it’s not more work.” LowBuck
grumbled.

 

“No, it’s not work for you.” Cat scolded, still smiling.

 

“I think you might even like the idea.” She said
snidely.

“What is it then?” LowBuck responded still skeptical
and sweating profusely from the heat and the physical
labor he had just finished putting out.

“We were digging around in Don’s preps and found
out he has two 45 lb buckets of sugar. Evidently he had
wine or booze making on his mind because he has the
bucket setups for making wine or mash. His birthday is in
two weeks so what do you all say to converting some of
that sugar into some kind of adult beverages?” Amy asked.

“But we were planning on leaving out in the next
couple days. I would love to stay around for a party but we
really need to be on the road.” Bubba began protesting
before Cat held up what appeared to be a dark bronze
grape.

“What’s that?” Bubba said reaching for the proffered
fruit.

“Muscadine, it’s an indigenous wild grape that
grows all over this place. We picked a bucketful today and
there is a ton more of it around here in the woods to
harvest.” Amy advised.

“Lots of wine to be made...” Michael said with a
smiling glint in his eye at LowBuck.

“Hell with that, think brandy.” Bubba said looking at
the large grape and thinking of different beverages to be
had.

“Brandy is dandy.” giggled Cat smiling at everyone.

“Still and all we need to get moving on unless you
got something in mind besides just letting Donald get
cross-eyed on his birthday at a little post apocalyptic
birthday party. “ Bubba said regretfully handing back the
makings of some fine Bubba Brews and other concoctions
of the alcoholic nature that any gut but his would take for
paint thinner when swallowed.

Amy excitedly chimed in and explained she had
found a big bag of something called zeolite in Donald’s
preps that Cat had identified as the number one
component needed to easily make some ethanol alcohol
fuel.

“That stuff is reusable. How much does he have of
it? Michael, we now have means of producing some very
high quality alcohol, but if you plan to use it as fuel you
must further purify it by running it through a still a second
time if it ain’t for drinking. You should now have ethanol
near 98% pure, if I did a hell of a job the first few times. By
soaking it in or filtering it through 'Zeolite' you can have
pure alcohol. This product will absorb the water out of the
alcohol leaving you with 100%, 200 proof. I think these two
ladies figured out a way to turn Donald’s place into a gas
station of sorts. Hell, any vehicle after 1980 can run the
stuff 50/50 without any kind of engine conversion. For lack
of a better word, I am a pretty good brew master or
moonshiner. I like this angle! I can get about a gallon a run
off what is around here to use for a still. With your welding
skills, Michael, and depending on what we can find to build
a bigger still, we can produce enough alcohol to run the
neighbors tractors to produce pretty much anything we
want if we got some seeds to plant.” LowBuck said with
thoughts of becoming a land baron of sorts and allowing a
shit eating grin to pass his face at the prospect.

“Hey, I looked into that once. I dig alternative fuels.

You used to be able to get free licenses to produce
ethanol. The sugar will run out quick enough but with his
fruit trees we should be ok. Oh yea, Bernie has a patch of
sugar cane he keeps around for the grand kids’
entertainment that can be expanded upon and we might
can find some sugar beet seeds. You might just want to
stay on awhile there Bubba and establish us a gas station
around this neck of the woods.” Michael said, excited at
the prospect of being able to use machines to take the toil
off of some agricultural work and have some home brew to
profit and party down with.

“Donald’s has got the means to run a still either
electrically or by wood fire. He has got a library full of
books on the subject, but it sounds like you got the
practical experience to make it all happen, LowBuck.” Amy
said charmingly.

“He has the makings of a good mash in fruit and
other resources to at least provide for our needs to run a
rototiller and to cut firewood without the need of using
hand tools for the tasks. If we can produce more alcohol
fuel than that, we can most likely save a bunch of lives
with community agriculture by providing for those
neighbors with tractors the fuel to plow some fields and
plant some crops.” Michael said supporting her
assessment of practicalities.

“This is a difficult decision, on the one hand my S.C.
prepper has meat on the hoof grazing, but I am basically a
border guard flunky there. On the other hand, I am a gas
producer and a whiskey distiller here; I think I just
convinced myself.” Low Buck said chagrined at the aspect
of doing without a steak for a bottle of shine.

“So it’s settled then!” Amy said hugging a grinning

Michael. “You can settle down here and grow your beard
long with my old man doing what you all do best.” Amy
said grinning at Cat and the rest of the crew for
confirmation.

“Makes total sense to me! Ha! Ha! Never thought I
would help build a gas pump I could drink out of. If times
were not so hard at the moment I can envision crazy Don
suggesting we open a possum burger stand along with a
gas station bar with drinks being served in the rear on a
2x12 bar and tree stumps for stools!” LowBuck exclaimed,
giving Michael a high five and hugging Cat while Amy and
Michael slid closer together.

“That is the damndest plan I ever heard of !”
squealed Cat as Amy reached out to hug her new found
friend in admiration that the ladies had solved all the
practicalities without the consultation of the men huffing
and puffing their dire warnings as they were wont to do.

“Won't Don be surprised when he gets back?” Amy
gushed.

“Damn straight. That boy won’t know up from down
when it comes to thinking of all the possibilities he can use
it in his barter schemes.” LowBuck glowed at the thought
and added his enthusiasms.

“That old sot is going to be in hog heaven once he
realizes the potential of our planning. He isn’t going to
know what to do with himself at all with that prepper brain
of his by the time he considers all the various possibilities.
No way can we keep it a surprise until his birthday. What
do you all suggest?” Michael said smiling.

“I think that we need to keep him distracted and
away from the house as much as possible in order to
surprise him. Bug him with redundant questions and keep
him swinging a pick axe down at Bernie’s to put in that
wheat field you been discussing. I doubt that will work for
long though because he will want to start trapping and get
out of what he would call grunt work or ditch digging. Tell
him there is a shit load of game a days walk from here and
if it’s safe for him to be stomping around in the area, go on
a hunt/camping trip with him. Michael, you take him out
and Bubba can stay as guard on the prepper plantation.
He will go along with that because he respects your many
years of living here to have that kind of local game location
knowledge you two can apply. Bring him back after we
manage to get the mash cooking well and introduce the
concept of what we talked about to him then. Meantime,
we will be getting a party ready at my house for later.” Amy
said taking charge of some possibly highly interesting
festivities.

“If it were normal times, I would stick around and
see the whole gas and alcohol scheme through but we still
need to get on the road right after the party. I wouldn’t be
waiting that long, but I think we will be even better received
if we topped out our alcohol supplies from a couple still
runs Donald and I can share. I will write down the recipes
and show Michael a few of my tricks of the trade, but
having access to good grass fed beef is going to trump my
love of moon shining in practicality I am afraid. I got to
trade him out of some of that zeolite though; I got another
one of those cool kitchen counter stills on the trailer. Ha! I
could tell him that he was starting a franchise by investing
some of that zeolite with me, he would probably go for
that.” Bubba said, grinning.

“Darn, I had really thought that me and Amy had
come up with a way for us to stay around here.” pouted
Cat.

“Honey, I sure wish that we could stay long term.
But the food supplies are going to run out long before a
crop comes in, or if Donald manages to find a way of
trading any booze or ethanol.” Bubba said apologetically.

“I suppose you are right, though damn it if I wish
you were not! I just got all excited for the moment. I
wonder what Harley dog is going to think of a Cow? He is
hard enough to control when he even smells a deer let
alone having a herd of hoofed critters to maybe want to
chase or possibly try to gnaw on he gets to see standing in
a field everyday.” Cat replied.

“He will learn to leave them cows alone eventually. I
will probably have to keep him tied up for awhile is all I will
have to do until the newness of them wears off, I hope.”
Bubba said, not entirely certain of how Harley pooch would
take to being a cattle dog guarding the stock instead of
chasing them and trying to chomp a tasty looking cows
hindquarters.

“I will see what kind of spare bottles or jugs I can
come up with to put the finished alcohol products in. We
need to be thinking about using a screw jack or building
something to mash all those grapes and black berries
around here into some kind of usable juice. You think now
is the time to try and trade the neighbors out of some
sugar before they eat it all up or just make do with what we
got?” Michael inquired of Bubba.

“We just make do with what he has stored here,
best to just stay low profile as long as you can. I doubt
anyone be in mind of coming around here asking to borrow
a cup of sugar neither.” Guffawed LowBuck.

“How set are we for yeast?” Michael asked,
knowing it had short shelf life.

“We got plenty of yeast on hand for now, but we will
have to make our own later. Before yeast was available in
grocery stores, bakers used to keep colonies of yeast for
making bread. These colonies were known as starters,
and were sometimes passed on from generation to
generation. You can make your own starter using
commercial yeast, by using potato water (from boiled
potatoes) to attract and feed wild yeasts present in the air
around us, or by using the yeast found on the skins of
organic grapes or organic raisins. Then you just keep the
starter in a one-quart crock, jar, or airtight container. I been
collecting articles I have researched in a notebook for
sometime. I got a good explanation from writer Samara on
Off Grid News.” Bubba said going to get his notebook.

Knowing how to replace the staples in the kitchen in
some other way than a trip to the store is an important
prepper skill. One of those things is bread. The first step is
taking the time to learn to bake, which unfortunately is
becoming a lost art in and of itself. The second step is to
learn how to obtain the components of bread, such as
flour, water, and yeast.