Scouting WW II Coastal Defense Bunkers

Scouting WW II Coastal Defense Bunkers

Mission Summary

For this mission I decided to scout some abandoned northern Olympic Peninsula coastal defenses that were built during World War II. These are a series of artillery emplacements, bunkers and lookouts set on hills overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca west of Port Angeles, Washington.

From my online research I determined the approximate location of several of the bunkers. The most interesting resource was this page, which contained the original secret military maps and schematics of the facilities made in the early 1940s. Several of the bunkers are located in Salt Creek Recreation Area, part of the Camp Hayden artillery fortress:

The original map of the Camp Hayden harbor defenses from 1944 (click to enlarge).

A few miles west down the coast are the more obscure Agate Point and Agate Rock bunkers:

Map of the Agate Point bunkers (click to enlarge).

My plan was to scout these in stealth mode using my bike and see how many I could locate in an overnight trip.

Camp Hayden Recon

Starting from Port Angeles, I rode the Olympic Discovery Trail for about six miles until it joined highway 112, a dangerous road with little shoulder and giant trucks whizzing by. I turned onto a side road toward the Salt Creek Recreation Area to get off the highway and make a stealthier approach to the area. The road into the facility had a sign saying it was closed, which I was happy to see because it meant I was unlikely to encounter anyone else:

Closed roads are good news; it means you will probably have them all to yourself!

Sure enough, the road was empty, but it was also steep and rough and I ending up mostly walking my bike up to the top of Striped Peak. There were some fun trails and gravel roads to ride down, spectacular views of the Strait, and before long I found myself in the vicinity of the first bunker on my list. Looking off to my right, I caught a glimpse of it through the lush foliage, looking like a ruined Mayan temple in the jungle. This was Battery 249, which once contained two six inch anti-ship guns but now apparently houses a bat colony.

“You will all parish in flame” — spooky graffiti outside the Battery 249 bunker.

There were two chambers, both barred and covered in graffiti. There was also a hole in the ground with a ladder leading down to a rather spooky chamber that I explored. On top of the complex there was a pillbox structure and a nice flat area; as it was getting late, I decided to set up my stealth camp there, get up early and look for other bunkers nearby.

The only problem was that I didn’t have a lot of water and there were no streams around. My only choice was to ride down to the nearby campground and get some water from the bathroom. I bombed down the gravel road, which unfortunately came out right next to the home of the resident park ranger.  I casually pedaled past it into the campground, hoping that no one saw me and there was nothing overly suspicious about a mountain biker coming down this road from the direction of a closed road. I rolled my bike into the bathroom and filled up my water bottles using the tortuously slow timed water faucet, during which time three other people decided to use the facilities, which was less than ideal. Then I rolled out out of there and casually headed back up the road toward the bunker. The recreation area closed at dusk, so it was a bit suspicious to be heading up there with dusk approaching, but I didn’t have much choice. I got back to camp without event and made the report about my mission shown in this video:

Early the next morning I studied the Hayden Camp map and realized that a bunker labelled “BC12” should be only about a hundred yards east of my campsite. I packed up, left my bike hidden on top of Battery 249 and bushwhacked in the direction I thought it should be. Sure enough, there it was, naturally camouflaged and with a tree growing on top of it:

Bunker BC12 was well-camouflaged from the “bushwhack side”.

This bunker wasn’t barred off so I was able to walk in and admire the view through the gun slot. When I went on top of it I was disappointed to see a driveway right next to the main gravel road and realized I hadn’t made much of a discovery; the bunker was clearly visible from the road and I could have ridden right to it. I scratched it off my list of potential Scout lookouts and road-walked back to my bike. As I rolled my bike back up toward BC 12 to take some more pics, I spotted a guy just ahead of me walking right toward the bunker. I waited a few minutes until I saw him continuing up the hill, unsure if he spotted me. I returned to the site, took some video footage and thought about what to do next. There were two other sites in Camp Hayden that I could’ve looked for, but I decided that since I’d violated park rules by stealth-camping and had just seen some guy walking in my direction, it was time to get out of Dodge.

On my way out of the area, I rode through the campground to scout it out for future reference. There was a dramatic viewpoint where I walked out onto rocks with waves crashing over tide pools. As I returned to my bike, I looked up and saw a third bunker staring me in the face, this one also barred off, labelled “Tongue Point” on the old maps.

Agate Rock Recon

My next target was a more obscure site called “Agate Rock” a few miles down the coast. After a scenic ride around Crescent Bay I came to an abandoned forest road with a gate and a no trespassing sign, which a Shadow Scout always considers an invitation:

A very inviting sight: a gated, overgrown forest road with a no trespassing sign.

The road was overgrown but rideable for about a half mile before it turned north and disappeared into the bush. Not discouraged, I stashed my bike, put on my long pants, jacket and gloves and bushwhacked north, where faint signs of the original access road were still visible. After a while of this I intersected a newer, easily walkable road which took me up the hill to the very edge of the Peninsula. There was a small clearing and a sheer cliff that dropped hundreds of feet to the ocean. The views across the strait and down the coast were spectacular. I saw large ships in the distance and could imagine being a soldier manning a lookout on this spot, watching for enemy battleships.

Commanding views of the Strait from the top of Agate Rock.

But where was the bunker that should be nearby? After admiring the view for a while, I turned around and again, what do I see but the slot of another overgrown bunker staring me in the face!

I was so distracted by the view that I almost missed this well-camouflaged bunker.

I crawled through the slot into the vault. There were two concrete pedestals that once held six-inch guns; from this high ground it was easy to imagine them raining deadly fire on enemy ships miles away down in the Strait. Walking to the back of the vault, I came out the front entrance, which was wide open. There was graffiti everywhere, so despite the difficult route I had taken it was apparently not a problem for others. And I soon discovered the reason why: there was a nice gravel road nearby that apparently offered easy access by a different route. I was a bit disappointed to see this, but still carved some scout sign on the bunker wall and put it on my list of potential Scout lookouts for the spectacular vista and obscure location.

My Scout sign marks this bunker as a place of interest.

I ate some food at the cliff’s edge and contemplated my next move. It was midday and I still had a hike and a sizeable bike ride to get back to Port Angeles. There is another bunker in the area that is supposedly on private property and well-secured, and others further down the coast that are even more difficult to find. I decided that I would save these for another scouting mission and headed back the way I had come. The ride back was uneventful other than some close truck passes on Highway 112 and a buck eating leaves in someone’s yard right off the trail in Port Angeles. I was tired but buzzed, both by the things I had discovered on this mission and the prospect of returning for more scouting in the near future. This definitely belongs at the top of my list as one of my favorite missions to date.

Bicycle Bug-Out

Bicycle Bug-Out

The Bug-Out Scenario

A little extreme, but maybe the right idea. Don’t expect gasoline or nice roads to be available in a real Mad Max scenario!

The survivalist or Scout who wants to be prepared for the possibility of serious civilizational disruption should consider building a bug-out bike. What is that? It’s a bicycle outfitted to get out of Dodge quickly, travel long distances via any road or trail, and be self-contained for extended periods of time. In light of recent events such as the covid-19 “pandemic”, disruptions in gasoline supplies, infrastructure collapses, riots, forest fires and heat waves; the prospect of escalating crises as the effects of climate change, peak oil, ecological disruption and social unrest hit home; the ever-present possibility of natural catastrophes such as pandemics, hurricanes, earthquakes, fires, floods, Carrington events and volcanic eruptions; and man-made catastrophes like nuclear, EMP, biological and terrorist attacks, it seems wise to be prepared for anything. That includes being ready to evacuate your home for several days in an emergency, but it doesn’t just mean having a bug-out bag ready to throw in a vehicle and hitting the road. What if gasoline becomes unavailable or unaffordable? What if supply chains are disrupted and you can’t get parts to repair your car? What if roads are clogged with traffic, damaged, blocked or overrun with bandits? How will you get to your bug-out cabin, bunker or hideout? How will you get to another town for needed supplies? How will you visit far away family or friends who need your help? How will you escape martial law crackdowns, avoid FEMA camps and evade hordes of marauding zombies? The answer in all cases could be a properly equipped bicycle—the most versatile and resilient form of transportation ever invented (with the possible exception of a horse). While nothing beats your own two feet and a backpack for flexible travel, the distances involved and loads you may need to carry could be too great to be practical. Enter the bug-out bike…

The Bug-Out Bike

There are many types of bicycles available today that are optimized for different purposes: road bikes, touring bikes, mountain bikes, gravel bikes, etc. The best configuration for a bug-out bike is probably a mountain bike for its ruggedness and versatility (actually, the best bug-out bike is the one you already have and can start outfitting today). Here’s the bike configuration I currently use for scouting and bug-outs:

My bug-out/scout bike rig with pistol and machete options.

It’s a Trek Marlin mountain bike, with rear panniers containing food on one side, clothing on the other, cookwear and electronics in the top, a 30 liter dry bag/backpack strapped to the handlebars that contains my tent, sleeping bag and pad, and a small saddlebag containing bike tools and spare tubes (the machete and glock pistol strapped to the frame are optional accessories that could come in handy). I removed reflectors and lights for maximum stealth and minimum weight. I don’t normally ride at night, but in a bug-out scenario I will avoid busy roads and use a headlamp when necessary. The tires are 700 x 40mm Schwalbes, which are narrow for a mountain bike but have worked well on the dirt roads and trails in my area.

Bug-Out Gear

Many cyclists are moving to bikepacking setups that emphasize light weight and minimal gear over the traditional bicycle touring configuration of panniers (large bags hung from racks over your wheels) that can hold more supplies. Either setup can work in a bug-out situation. In a long distance bug-out, where supplies may be few and far between or conditions in cities dangerous, panniers allow you to carry larger amounts of food and water and be self-sufficient for up to two weeks at a time. If you need to carry heavier gear, weapons, ammo, etc., panniers are also preferable. But in a more local, short-term bug-out, or in a region where you may have to ride on steep mountain roads, rough trails and bushwhacks, a lighter, more rugged bikepacking setup may be preferable. I use a hybrid of the two.

Here are a few essential items to include in your bug-out bike gear:

  • water: filter; bottles and bladders for carrying a gallon or more of water
  • offline navigation: detailed paper maps of your area (e.g. USFS maps), compass
  • food: three days to two weeks supply
  • repair kit: extra tubes, pump, patches, bike multitool (I use this one), spare chain links

Some optional but useful gear for a bug-out bike include:

  • weapons: handgun, knife/machete/hatchet
  • hammock (allows you to stealth camp almost anywhere)
  • dynamo hub for charging electronic devices
  • shortwave emergency radio

Keep things simple and low tech. Modern touring cyclists rely on sophisticated smartphones, GPS devices and apps for navigation, as well as social network apps like warmshowers.com for finding lodging, but in a SHTF situation you can’t assume that any of those will work. Be prepared to navigate the old school way, with maps, compass and local knowledge, and to find stealth camps wherever you go.

The Bug-Out Route

Having a well equipped bug-out bike is only the first step in bicycle emergency preparedness. You also need to figure out where to go and how to get there. That means scouting the bike paths, bikeable trails and dirt/gravel roads in your area, finding any routes that will allow you to bypass traffic jams, checkpoints, road closures and zombies in a SHTF situation. From this information, put together one or more bug-out routes that will allow you to get out of town safely and stealthily. Mapping sites and apps like gaiagps, google maps, komoot.com and gravelmap.com are very helpful for finding routes via gravel roads, back roads, bike paths and trails.  Pay close attention to elevation profiles; steep roads and trails are killers on a bike and should be avoided if possible. But there is no substitute for scouting on-the-ground conditions, and this should be done regularly as part of your emergency preparation. This will also help you stay fit, which could literally be a matter of life and death when you have to actually bug-out on a bike.

Once you’ve devised and scouted your bug-out routes, memorize them and sketch them on your maps if you wish. You can also save them as GPX routes, which you can then load into a GPS device or a smartphone app like gaiagps or ridewithgps and follow precisely as you ride. But again, don’t rely only on electronic methods, as they might not work after TSHTF and they’re also potential security risks.

The Bug-Out Mission

Two days after a heat wave that brought record temperatures to my area, along with blackouts, deaths and disruptions, I decided it was time to put the bug-out bike concept to the test. I equipped my mountain bike with the bikepacking gear and provisions described above. I had a route figured out from previous scouting and study of maps, and had it memorized and loaded into my gaiagps app. The scenario was that due to some catastrophe (earthquake, virus outbreak, etc.), the main highway out of my town is clogged or closed, and I’ve decided to bug-out to another town via backroads and trails and stealth camp somewhere.

I rode via side roads through town to the Olympic Discovery Trail, proceeded to the town of Blyn, then cut south up a forest road into the foothills of the Olympics. This was a nice route; I was on gravel roads most of the time and passed very few cars. There were many possible camp sites and connecting roads I could spend days exploring. After a long uphill slog, I coasted down toward the town of Quilcene, target of my previous bicycle scouting, after about 30 miles, only this time I had arrived entirely via backroads and avoided the highways.

After some refreshments in the town convenience store I continued north toward Port Townsend and other targets of interest, sticking to backroads as much as possible. By late afternoon I was feeling fatigued and started looking for a place to camp, but I was running low on water and the creeks shown on my map were either non-existent or too difficult to access. So I continued toward the nearest place where I could buy water, a little town about eight miles north, and got to the store just before they closed. En route I passed a wooded park that looked like it had once been a campground; I rode back there and decided to make stealth camp, despite the two kids I’d seen biking there and the houses not far away through the trees. I laid low until around sunset, saw no one, then set up my camp and made this video:

Secondary Scouting

The next morning I got up early, got out of the park and proceeded north to some destinations I planned to scout as part of this mission. After fueling up on espresso and a breakfast sandwich at a coffee shop, I rode a few miles west to a place called the Tamanowas Rock Sanctuary, which I’ve been wanting to investigate for some time as a possible Scout lookout site. I made this video from the sanctuary:

I then headed north toward a place called Indian Island, which is owned by the U.S. Navy and used as a munitions handling facility and a place to service missile submarines. After a fun ride over a bridge to the island, I parked in a nearby park and did some video surveillance of the entrance to the naval base with my handlebar-mounted phone. It was guarded by a checkpoint, a fence topped by coiled barbed wire, and some prowling security vehicles:

A still image from my surveillance video of the entrance to the Indian Island naval facility.

Realizing that I wouldn’t be seeing any more of Indian Island on this trip, I rode down a little trail along the coast then proceeded back to the mainland. From there I connected to a nice 7.5 mile gravel path called the Larry Scott Trail which I rode into downtown Port Townsend. A bus was leaving in 30 minutes back to my home town so I decided to get on it—I’d ridden about 73 miles in 24 hours and decided that was enough. I chatted on the bus with two locals—an old guy who was an avid cyclist and gave me some biking tips, and a guy from Kansas who appeared to be homeless and a bit mentally off but had some interesting observations—then got off in Sequim and rode the few miles to my home.

This was another interesting bug-out and scouting mission by bike—which has become my preferred way to scout my region, get out of Dodge and have a little adventure.

More Information

For more information about bug-out bikes, see these links:
Bug Out Bike: What You Need To Know To Survive
Bugout Bikes and Trikes
Apocalypse Bicycle Instructable

Bicycle Scouting the ODT

Bicycle Scouting the ODT

I’ve recently started doing some scouting of my region by bicycle. While foot scouting is still my go-to method, bicycle scouting has a few advantages:

  • You don’t have to carry a pack on your shoulders.
  • You can cover much more ground in a given amount of time.
  • Cyclists aren’t as threatening as walkers; people tend to ignore you.
  • You can discreetly film places of interest with a handlebar-mounted phone.

A bicycle is a versatile form of transportation: you can ride it on regular roads, dirt/gravel roads, sidewalks, bike paths, some foot trails and short bushwhacks, take it on cars, buses, trains, planes and even packrafts. You can carry as much gear as you would backpacking, allowing you to take extended “bikepacking” excursions. You can also easily stash a bike in places where you could never park a car discreetly when you need to proceed on foot. To efficiently get an on-the-ground feel for the shadow routes and resources in your area, cycling may be the best option.

My latest bicycle scouting was an overnight trip to the town of Quilcene about 35 miles away. I am fortunate to live near the Olympic Discovery Trail, a popular paved bike trail/highway route which goes from Port Townsend at the north end of the Olympic Peninsula all the way to the Pacific Ocean, a distance of about 130 miles. I was able to take the paved trail or side roads for the majority of the trip, riding along two bays, through the Skallam reservation and along a lake.

A typical section of the ODT. Note how easy it is to discreetly film items of interest from a bike.

There were surprisingly few people on the trail for a sunny weekend, which was good. There was one 24 hour gas station/deli en route and a couple of creeks where I could filter water. I took some video of sections of interest with my handlebar-mounted phone, and left some Scout sign to mark my range:

Leaving Scout sign on the ODT

On a side road near Discovery Bay I passed a sign where the Pacific Northwest Trail used to head into the Olympic mountains before it was re-routed. The sign was at the end of a driveway; I started riding up it, saw a group of people, called out to ask if the trail was still in use, but when they didn’t answer I got spooked and rode away. On further research it looks like this is now an alternate PNT route that’s still used, so apparently they’re OK with people walking through here. I will be returning to scout this section at a later date.

A PNT sign marks a route into the Olympics that goes through someone’s driveway.

From there I headed south toward Quilcene, using the highway and a side road along Leland Lake. As it was getting late I started looking for a place to stealth camp. I considered camping at a turn-out near the highway where a boat had been left full of trash, but when I walked down a trail I encountered all kinds of old tents, clothes and junk everywhere. Not wanting to camp next to what looked like a homeless encampment, I got out of there and kept riding south.

When I arrived at Quilcene the sun was setting and I needed to quickly find a place to camp. Looking at my gaiagps maps, I noticed a power line corridor near town that was crossed by a road near a river, so I biked the half mile to check it out. The road ended before the corridor but there was an overgrown trail that led to it which I was able to push my bike through. This led to a clearing under the power lines, surrounded by tall grass with views of the nearby mountains. After clearing some rocks I was able to make a decent spot for my tent and set up my stealth camp. I was also able to find a game trail to the river where I could get water.

My stealth camp in a power line corridor near Quilcene.

I got up early the next morning and headed back the same way, scouting a few side roads as I went. On Highway 101 near Discovery Bay, I noticed that just below the highway was an abandoned road which had a “keep out” sign on it. Curious, I bushwhacked down to the road and rode on it for about a mile until it rejoined an active side road. This road doesn’t show up in any gaiagps map except the historic 1930 topo map; it looks like it was a section of a road that once ran along the railroad that used to go around Discovery Bay on its way from Port Townsend to Port Angeles. This is exactly the kind of shadow route that I look for when I’m out scouting; if I’m ever stealth travelling through this area I can avoid the busy highway and move quickly on foot or bicycle. I will definitely be back to explore this road further.

Riding an unmapped, abandoned road near Highway 101.

The rest of the ride home to Sequim was uneventful. Overall, this was an interesting if somewhat grueling trip of about 70 miles that gave me a better feel for the area and opened my eyes to the potential of scouting by bicycle. Stay tuned for more!

Becoming a Ninja Warrior

Becoming a Ninja Warrior

I’ve long been obsessed with ninjas, the legendary shadow warriors of feudal Japan. I love their dark mystique and their mindset of endurance, discipline, stoicism, survivalism, stealth and mysticism—the polar opposite of the modern mentality of instant gratification, egotism, fragility, fear of darkness, transparency, moralism and materialism. I’ve read dozens of books about them, from the historically accurate to modern interpretations to the wildly fictional, and enjoyed most of them. They are a primary influence on my own path of the Shadow Scout.

One of the more interesting takes on the ninja that I’ve come across is contained in the book Becoming a Ninja Warrior by Martin Faulks. Faulks is an English esoteric writer and teacher with a background in Hermeticism and Freemasonry. He’s also highly adept at meditation and martial arts, which he demonstrates in older videos at his youtube channel. According to the account in Ninja Warrior, in the early 2000s Faulks did what many Westerners have only fantasized about: sought out real ninjas in the modern world and trained with them in their ancient martial and mystical arts in an effort to became a more powerful, shadow-aware person. He trained with thieves, mystics, mountain monks and martial arts warriors around the world, rather like a real-life Bruce Wayne in the film Batman Begins.

Faulks describes the ninja as part thief, part mystic and part warrior. This is reflected in his training under various masters: first with the “Norfolk Ninjas”—two amoral working-class British rogues who teach him the dark arts of stealth, lockpicking, and infiltration; then with Stephen Hayes, the famous American ninjutsu guru who takes a more spiritual approach to training; then in Japan under Bujinkan Grand Master Hatsumi and other Japanese masters who focus on martial arts; and finally with the ancient brotherhood of Yamabushi mountain monks of Japan, who seek spiritual strength by enduring austerities in nature.

All of these stories were interesting, but I found the first and last groups particularly so. The Norfolk Ninjas have their own “Bat Cave” in the basement of their mother’s house, stocked with a huge collection of ninja books, movies, weapons and tools. In addition to rigorous combat and lockpicking, their training includes a lot of prowling around in black ninja suits at night,  playing pranks on policemen by sneaking into their cars and stealing their radios to test their stealth skills. At the other end of the spectrum, the Yamabushi training consisted of hiking for several days in the mountains while fasting, getting little or no sleep, chanting, praying at shrines, hanging off cliffs and participating in a fire-walking ritual. It’s fascinating that their Shugendō (“Way of trial and practice”) tradition, which is over a thousand years old and is said to have influenced the ninja, still exists long after the historical ninja lineages have been broken.

Personally, I suspect Faulks made up some of the stories in this book. The Norfolk Ninjas in particular sound too perfect; they remind me of the kind of characters esoteric teachers invent to illustrate their ideas. I could be wrong, and I hope I am. It’s an inspiring story, regardless. But it should be noted that even if everything Faulks described in this book really happened, he’s still not a ninja. To experience the full reality of ninjutsu, he would need to do more than train in dojos and run around at night in the English countryside. He would need go into a warzone, train with special forces, infiltrate forbidden places, escape captivity, spy for MI6, execute a heist, commit arson, and the like. Enduring life-threatening danger in war-time conditions, and using stealth, deception and skill to survive, is the essence of the ninjutsu art. With those caveats, Warrior is an enjoyable and inspiring read for anyone interested in this topic.

Get a copy of Becoming a Ninja Warrior here (or a new version called The Path of the Ninja here).

Ways of the Shadow Scouts

Ways of the Shadow Scouts

Introduction

The brotherhood of Shadow Scouts that I envision is a secretive society of free spirits who think outside the boxes of current ways of life and structures of power. Here are some more details about the ways of this brotherhood, as practiced by myself and as I foresee them developing.

Ranges

Shadow Scouts reject existing national and territorial boundaries and reserve the right to roam anywhere we please. Each Scout will usually have a home “range” that he frequently scouts, which won’t overlap with the ranges of other Scouts because we do respect each other’s territory. Within his range, each Scout will be responsible for scouting shadow routes, establishing lookouts, gathering intelligence, leaving Scout sign and recruiting others. Collectively, Shadow Scouts are the rangers of our own shadowy nation—one with its own ideals, codes of conduct, communications, security, intelligence service and language.

Shadow Routes

As previously discussed here, “shadow routes” are routes that offer stealth travel and are not frequented by vehicles, police, security or the general public. They include:

  • Forest roads
  • Foot and bicycle trails
  • Power line corridors
  • Railroad tracks
  • Rivers and waterways
  • Tunnels and storm drains
  • Rooftops and walkways

The first task of the Scout is to explore all shadow routes in his range, establishing stealthy routes for bugging out, gathering intelligence, getting to lookouts and general travel. He should also scout pathless sections between shadow routes—bushwhacking, crossing deserts, cutting across private property, crossing borders, etc.—so as to be able to travel long distances with maximum stealth and freedom.

Power line corridors can be good shadow routes.

Lookouts

Shadow Scouts should establish lookouts in areas where they are active. These are places where Scouts can observe an area, take shelter, meet other Scouts, leave messages and cache supplies. They will be established not only in wilderness areas, but in rural, suburban and urban locations. In our secret tongue, lookouts are called tyârzunz (“lookplaces”).

Locations

Some elements of a good wilderness lookout include:

  • near existing shadow routes
  • good views of the surrounding area
  • discreet location away from established camps, trails and roads
  • near natural shelters and camping areas
  • near water sources
  • places to discreetly cache supplies and leave messages

With well-stocked lookouts located along shadow routes, you can use them as re-supply points to travel long distances and extend your stays in the field. The best lookouts should be difficult to get to. They should require scouting skills to reach so they are unlikely to be visited by non-Scouts. This adds to their mystique as special places for a special breed of individual.

A lookout location overlooking my home range and the U.S.-Canada border.
Caches

A weather- and animal-proof container, such as an ammo can, bear can, PVC pipe or wide-mouthed plastic bottle, should be hidden at the lookout site for caching supplies. A notebook and pen should be included in the cache for Scouts to log their visits and leave messages, if desired. Possible items to put in caches include:

  • food
  • maps of the area
  • emergency shelter (poncho, tarp, space blanket, etc.)
  • clothing
  • firestarters (lighter, matches, flammable material)
  • cookware (pot, stove, fuel, silverware)
  • water purification (filter, tablets)
  • medical supplies
  • lights and batteries
  • duct tape, thread, needle
  • notebook and pen/pencil
  • cash
A plastic container cache at one of my lookouts, marked with Scout sign.
Using Lookouts
  • When travelling, the Scout should visit lookouts as needed to obtain supplies and send or receive messages. The Scout should leave supplies in the caches for future use by himself and other Scouts whenever possible. Ideally, in a bug-out situation a Scout should be able to walk from his location with just the clothes on his back to nearby lookouts to obtain emergency supplies so he can stay in the field for days.
  • The Scout should leave no trace of his visits to lookouts by carefully re-burying caches, packing out trash and covering his tracks.
  • Lookout locations should be memorized. Part of the Scout’s training is learning the locations of lookouts in areas where he travels. Locations might also be sketched on paper, but avoid storing them in GPS devices as this makes it easier for the lookout network to be compromised.
  • The seal of the Shadow Scouts should be placed somewhere at the lookout to identify it to others of our kind.

Communications

Scouts have their own secret ways of communicating with each other, including:

Language

Shadow Scouts have their own spoken and written language, which they use to identify each other, leave messages, and reinforce their status as members of a separate, secret society. Understand that this language actually exists; it is not some figment of my imagination. To learn more about it, you will need to be admitted into the Scout society by following clues that will be provided at this blog.

Scout Sign

“Scout sign” are symbols of the Shadow Scouts placed in strategic locations to mark ranges, shadow routes, lookouts and other points of interest. These symbols can be engraved in wood or stone, drawn, painted, made with rock or wood arrangements, etc. The primary symbol used for signing is the “Scout seal” shown below, which is shorthand for “Scout” in our secret tongue:

The seal of the Shadow Scouts.

Individual Scouts should also develop their own seals, to mark their ranges and identify themselves to other Scouts. When I’m out scouting I carve the Shadow Scout seal on trees, bridges, kiosks and other structures I find with my knife; here is a sign carved on a bridge on a shadow route in my range:

The Shadow Scout seal carved on a bridge marks it as part of a shadow route.
Recognition Sign

Scouts may also use a special hand sign to identify themselves to other members of the Brotherhood. This is the gesture in the photo below: hand held sideways, with fingers split and thumb out, representing the Scout seal. Make this casually to someone you suspect of being a fellow Scout, and if they return the gesture you will know they are one of our kind.

If you see someone walking on a lonely road making this sign, he’s probably a Shadow Scout!

Recruiting

For the moment Shadow Scouting is a solitary vision, but one of my goals is to find others who share this vision and recruit them to the brotherhood. Here are a few communities I am eyeing for recruitment, both as Shadow Scouts and as allies and informants:

  • Thru-Hikers: “Thru-hikers” have their own society, with trail names, lingo, volunteer supporters, shelters, hostels, trail towns and donation boxes. They also have a sense of adventure, independence and ability to roam long distances, all of which makes them good potential Shadow Scouts. I have begun scouting sections of the major hiking trails in my area, the Pacific Northwest Trail and the Pacific Crest Trail, in hopes of encountering a thru-hiker who may be interested in being part of this brotherhood. It is common for thru-hikers to take hiking partners on long hikes, so I may be able to discreetly introduce Shadow Scouting to one in this way.
  • Geocachers: Geocaching is a type of treasure-hunting game that involves placing containers with small items and notebooks in obscure places for other geocachers to find. There are thousands of geocaches around the world, in every kind of environment, often in interesting and scenic locations. Geocachers have their own lingo and community; for example, non-geocachers are known as “muggles”. I have recently begun vising the geocaches in my area and placing my sign in them. I may start placing my own geocaches in difficult locations with messages for potential Scouts about becoming part of the brotherhood.

    Scout sign left in a geocache in my range.
  • Hoboes: The modern community of “hoboes” or “freight-hoppers” is small compared to its golden age in the early 20th century, when they had their own hobo signs, road names, lingo and community, but there are still a few around. Their “tags” (signs) can be found under bridges, in abandoned houses, on rail cars and other places hoboes frequent. I have researched this lifestyle a bit and intend to ride the rails in the near future, not only to gain familiarity with these shadow routes, but to see what kind of people I may be able to recruit.
I keep an eye out for other shadowy characters on the trails to recruit to the Brotherhood.

Return to Burnt Hill

Return to Burnt Hill

Today I returned to Burnt Hill, a place I’ve hiked several times before and reported on previously here. This mission had three primary objectives:

  1. Get a good workout and enjoy a nice Spring day outside.
  2. Scout new shadow routes down the mountain and other points of interest.
  3. Give my new scout vest system a good field test.

The hike goes up a steep forest road to the top of the hill. After about a mile it comes to a rock quarry with a peculiar piece of artwork made out of someone’s trash. I thought this was an interesting way to turn litter into something strangely magical, so I took a picture:

Appreciating the weird magic of trash art.

At about 1.75 miles the trail levels out at a clear-cut and a nice vista of the northeastern Olympic mountains. At this point objective #1 was completed.

Performing Kuji-Kiri cuts at the clear-cut near top of the hill.

From the clear-cut I continued west down a forest road I hadn’t travelled before. I wanted to see if it could connect me to trails I had previously scouted at the base of the hill, giving me a complete shadow route from the hill to my house. The road went on for a mile, bringing more spectacular views of the Olympics to the south and the Strait of Juan de Fuca to the north. At road’s end, a dirtbike/foot trail continued down the hill in the direction I wanted to go. I was hoping it would take me all the way down, but it soon started curving back up so I had no choice but to bushwhack downhill toward my destination.

Bushwhacking down the steep hillside.

After some hill scrambling I came to a stream cutting down the hillside in the direction I wanted to go and started following it. This was a mistake, as the stream soon went over a cliff and the whole area cliffed out. This reinforced two points about mountain navigation: one, water takes the fastest route downhill, not the route easiest for humans to walk; and two, when contour lines on a topographical map are closest together, travelling perpendicular to them is probably going to be difficult. In this case it was nearly impossible, so I had to skirt around the steep area and take an indirect course at an angle to the contour lines.

Streams on hillsides are good for getting a cool drink, but bad for finding a safe route down the hill!

I finally got down the hill and connected to an unmapped trail I had previously scouted. This connected to a forest service road that isn’t technically open to the public, but the Shadow Scout philosophy is that this only matters if you’re caught, which is unlikely! I avoided problems by following a path along an irrigation canal above the road that I already knew about:

Irrigation canals often have trails that make good shadow routes.

The road also went by a facility with padlocked doors that could be considered a challenge, if you’re so inclined.

Secure facilities in obscure locations are excellent places to practice lockpicking skills.

Finally the private road came to a gate that connected to a road leading back to my house, which successfully completed objective #2 for this mission. Note the striking sign on the gate; are they planning a Jurassic Park-type facility here? I will keep an eye on it.

Don’t trespass. Especially if there are dinosaurs around. Unless you’re a Shadow Scout.

As for mission objective #3: the scout vest performed very well. It sustained no damage from over a mile of sliding down steep slopes, scrambling over logs and light bushwhacking. I was able to quickly access my water pouch, filter, phone, sunglasses, snacks, gloves, map and other items without having to stop and rummage around in a pack.

All in all, a very good day of shadow scouting.

The Scout Vest

The Scout Vest

Here’s an interesting alternative to the everyday carry or bug-out bag that I’ve been experimenting with recently: the scout vest!

The scout vest contains everything I need for my everyday scouting activities.
Note the large zip pocket in the back and the thread where I removed the reflective strip.

It’s just a slightly modified, dark-colored fishing vest with its pockets loaded with my everyday scouting and survival gear. There are many fishing/travel vests available that would work for this purpose; here’s the one I’m using:

I chose the variant labelled “Cmov060-khaki” because I liked its natural green and black colors, the large zip front pockets and the mesh torso for warmer conditions. My modification was to remove the reflective strip across the lower back for greater stealth. I might also pick up the variant “Cmov050-black” for night/cold/urban scouting.

Here are two more vest options that look good:

I like the scout vest system for several reasons:

  • My scouting gear is always ready; I just put on the vest and go.
  • It has much more carrying capacity than the pockets of my normal clothes.
  • I don’t have a pack hanging off my shoulders, which can restrict movement, be uncomfortable or get lost in the field.
  • I can quickly access my gear in any situation—walking, climbing, crawling, concealed location, etc.
  • It’s more discreet than a tactical backpack; carry a rod and reel and I have a ready-made cover as a fisherman!

This vest has a lot of storage space: many large and small zipper and velcro pockets in the front, inside, and a huge zip pocket down the back. I have put most of the items in my bug-out bag (as described in this post) in the vest, including:

  • folding knife
  • 25 feet of paracord
  • pen flashlight
  • lighter and firestarter material
  • compass
  • carabiner
  • medical pack: bandages, tape, antiseptic wipes, aspirin, diarrhea pills, water purification tablets
  • compact rain/wind jacket
  • neck gaiter
  • gloves
  • baby wipes
  • lockpick set
  • smartphone
  • cash
  • energy bars
  • Sawyer Squeeze mini water filter

Other items I might include for some missions are my handgun with ammo clips, compact binoculars, puffy jacket, maps, notebook and pencil, rope and grappling hook, and mosquito netting. I could even put my hammock and straps in the back pocket if I wanted to be able to sleep out. Another option is to have a pack with my hammock, sleeping bag, extra food, clothing and other items I need for multi-day missions ready to go that I can slip on over the vest if I need it.

I haven’t fully field-tested this setup yet, but so far I like it. My only concern is that it might not hold up to heavy scouting use such as bushwhacking, rock scrambling or crawling in rough terrain. It’s not military-grade, just a cheap Korean fishing vest, so I don’t expect it to be too durable. But it’s a fun item to have in your scout arsenal, and worth considering.

Night Boat to Paris

Night Boat to Paris

The 1950s were well before my time, but it must have been a golden age for readers of paperback spy, crime and adventure fiction. That decade had so many elements that make for exciting stories: the Cold War at its most intense, the CIA and KGB waging unfettered shadow wars across the globe, the American empire rising, the British empire falling, the Mafia’s invisible empire at its peak, and thousands of veterans of World War II and Korea still young and looking for action. It’s not surprising that the decade introduced so many genre greats, like Jack Higgins, Alistair MacLean, Ian Fleming, Donald Westlake, Dan J. Marlowe and Lionel White. A more obscure author who got his start in the ’50s was Richard Jessup; I recently picked up his 1956 novel Night Boat to Paris in a lot of vintage spy paperbacks and gave it a quick read.

The novel’s protagonist is Duncan Reece, an ex-World War II British Intelligence operative who fell out of favor with the class-oriented Establishment after the war and turned to criminal work. He is approached by his old intel chief, who considers Reece the perfect man for a very sensitive mission. It seems that an ex-Nazi engineer has developed a nuclear satellite technology for the Reds, but the microfilmed blueprints have wound up in the possession of a wealthy Spaniard and a purchase has been arranged at a charity bazaar at his French villa later that month. Several intelligence agencies, most notably the Reds, are in hot pursuit of the film and are expected to be closely watching the villa. Reece’s mission is to stage a robbery at the bazaar, taking the party-goers’ valuables as well as the microfilm in order to fool the Reds into thinking it wasn’t enemy action. Reece agrees to the job for the very tidy sum in 1956 dollars of one hundred thousand, plus half the loot, an import-export license and his Scotland Yard file and fingerprint records.

Reece’s first task is to travel to France and assemble a crew for the heist. He enlists an old associate and all-around shady operator named Tookie, a desperate German gunman named Otto, a French muscle-man named Saumur, and two American mafiosi operating out of Marseilles named Gino and Marcus. There is considerable intrigue leading up to the main event, as Reece is pursued by mysterious assailants in black suits, and he suspects that one of his own men is an informant for the Reds. Several enemy operatives are killed, and there’s some interesting introspection from Reece about why he is doing this that speaks to the inner plight of the shadow warrior:

You’re a different man, Reece, from when you first started thinking for yourself. A man who has no principles, ascribing to no morality, who has perhaps had the morality knocked out of you. You’re a killer; a procurer and thief; a man who has great wit and wisdom when it comes to saving your own neck and feathering your nest. You see that the world is mad and are playing along with it.

Can such a man slip into the comfortable rut of a middle-class merchant?

Another question.

And no answer for it.

Finally the crew gets to the locale of the op and sets themselves up in a farmhouse, where they begin training for their commando-style raid on the villa. From here on out it’s a riveting thriller, as the crew, clad in identical black coveralls, berets, face paint and bandanas, assault the party with a rope ladder, grappling hook and Tommy guns, get the loot and the microfilm and try to make their escape. They get to the border and desperately try to find away across, while more men in black show up and they are forced to take drastic action in a mountain village. Conveniently, a village girl unhappy about her arranged marriage joins the crew and leads them on a secret route across the mountains. This finale is a bit less believable than the rest of the story, but it races to a suitably noir ending as the traitor is revealed and Reece makes a run for it into the shadows.

This is just the kind of novel I like: an old-school, hard-boiled adventure that combines espionage, a heist, desperate criminals and ruthless shadow operators. There’s plenty of action and intrigue, but with a more sophisticated style than you get in a typical men’s adventure novel. All in all, this was an excellent little thriller, and a glimpse back to a time when spy stories could be told in 158 pages instead of 400+, without all the bloated writing, technological gimmickry and over-the-top action that would plague the genre in later decades. I will certainly be reading more novels from this era, and can recommend this book to anyone who enjoys the early hardboiled spy work of authors like Donald Hamilton, Jack Higgins, Dan Marlowe and Edward Aarons.

Get a copy of Night Boat to Paris here.

Scouting the Dungeness River

Scouting the Dungeness River

The Dungeness River near my home.

I live near the Dungeness River; it cuts right through the town of Sequim, but it’s mostly wild on both sides with few access points until it joins the Strait of Juan De Fuca several miles to the north. I was curious to see what this stretch looked like, and I also wanted to investigate the possibility of using it as a bug-out route from my house. Since I can walk to the river in ten minutes, inflate a raft and float down it where no one is likely to be looking for me, it seemed like a potentially excellent shadow route in an exfiltration scenario. If I could float the approximately six miles to Dungeness Bay, I could then take a hypothetical small boat stashed there or contact a friend with a boat and sail across the Strait to a discreet location on the southern Vancouver coast. From there I could be picked up by a Canadian contact or simply stay in Canada as a lone fugitive for as long as I needed to. Anyway that was the scenario, but first I needed to scout the feasibility of the river exfil.

I put my little two man Intex Seahawk 2 inflatable boat in a backpack, along with the manual pump and a paddle (I considered taking my Intex Challenger inflatable kayak, which is a much better boat, but it’s bulkier to carry and I didn’t want to worry about dragging the skeg on the rocks of the shallow river so I took the raft):

I also packed a few supplies — machete, water, filter, snacks, cell phone, etc. — in a small dry bag and put it in the backpack. Ready to go, I jumped my back fence and made the short walk through the woods to the river. Finding a good spot on the bank, I inflated the raft, assembled the paddle and cinched up the dry bag tight inside the backpack. I didn’t bother bringing any paracord to tie the pack to the raft, and for some reason I didn’t think of wearing the pack on my shoulders with the waist belt fastened so it would be secure to my body. Instead I just threw the pack in the back of the raft thinking I would use it as a back rest. This laziness and inexperience with river rafting would really cost me.

I pushed off into the shallow, fast-flowing river, trying to use the flimsy paddle to guide me. I quickly realized that the current was deceptively strong and I had almost no control over the little raft. It didn’t help that the raft has no skeg, so I would frequently spin around and find myself going sideways or backwards downstream. I flailed around with my paddle, hands and legs, trying not to crash into the logs near the banks which could potentially puncture the raft or damage a body part. When I came to a large fallen tree across the river I managed to get to a bank, drag the boat and pack over the log and continue. Soon after that I hit a particularly fast, deep section of water and found myself sucked toward a pile logs. The next thing I knew, the raft had capsized and I was completely underwater. I desperately grabbed the raft and managed to crawl back onto it. To my dismay, I saw my backpack, paddle and hat all floating downstream. Realizing that my only hope to retrieve the pack with the expensive smartphone and other supplies inside was to chase after it in the raft, I set off in pursuit.

I continued my roller coaster ride, bouncing off logs and spinning my way down the river. Once or twice I found myself floating in the water and had to use the raft as a flotation device until I could crawl back on it. I was able to slow and control the boat somewhat by dragging a stick against the river bottom as the boat floated sideways. I had to get to the bank several times to bypass some particularly hairy sections of the river, while looking around hoping I’d find the pack snagged on some logs.

After a little while of this I saw the railroad trestle over the river where the Olympic Discovery Trail crosses and there’s a public access area. Realizing that the pack was lost–probably far down river or sunk to the bottom–and that I had no water or means of communication, which meant continuing down river would make getting back home that much harder, I decided to abort the mission. The only problem was I was on the left side of the river and needed to get to the right bank. I barely managed to ford the waist high water, pulling the raft behind me without getting knocked over or losing the raft. I stashed the raft in some bushes and road-walked a few miles back to my house in the midday sun and soaked clothing.

It was a fun little adventure and I did get some useful information, even if it turned out to be an expensive lesson. I still think this route is doable, but I will need better equipment next time. Here are my take-aways from this mission:

  • Don’t underestimate the power of river water, particularly in the spring.
  • Use a hard-shell or inflatable whitewater kayak, not a cheap inflatable raft, on a fast river.
  • Attach your pack to the raft or wear it on your body.
  • Carry your phone on your body in a waterproof bag — something like this.
  • Wear a hat with a strap on it.
  • Install a tracking app on your phone if you are worried about losing it. These can tell you its current or last known location from the built-in GPS chip. Of course these apps allow others to track you, so I don’t recommend it.
The Great Train Hijack

The Great Train Hijack


I had little information to go on when I picked up The Great Train Hijack (originally titled The Gravy Train), published in 1971 by Whit Masterson. All I knew was that it featured a prison break, a train hijacking and a heist, and that sounded good enough for me to give it a read.

The novel’s antagonist is Anthony Heaston, the brilliant ex-leader of a Special Forces unit called “Heaston’s Hellions” that raised a lot of hell in the early days of the Vietnam War. Once a promising young colonel, Heaston was blamed for the murder of a South Vietnamese leader and relegated to a Pentagon basement, his career ruined. Bitter at the president and the military establishment for not backing him up, Heaston resigned and turned to outlaw mercenary work around the globe. But eventually he was captured leading revolutionaries in Columbia and sentenced to prison for life.

As the novel opens, Heaston pulls off a clever escape from the Columbian prison using a bold deception and outside help from some of his men. Soon he’s back in the USA, and ex-president and Heaston nemesis Carson wants to know where he is and what he’s up to. Carson puts Jake Duffy, a brilliant young agent for the FBI’s Special Assignment Division on the job. Duffy is a hip, long-haired, rebellious new type of G-man–very much like an FBI version of CIA man Ronald Malcolm from Six Days of the Condor.

Duffy tracks Heaston to a ranch in southern California, where he and some of his old Hellions are training to hijack a train using an old coal-powered model that was previously part of a Western movie production. Duffy, ever the bold and creative agent, gets himself into the ranch using a cover as a representative of a movie production company interested in making a film on the property. He meets Heaston, with whom he has a surprising rapport, as well as his brutal henchman Branko, with whom he shares a girlfriend. He also uncovers the group’s connections to a shadowy billionaire who is apparently funding them, and learns about a priceless art collection being shipped across the country. He also meets a beautiful but rather icy art museum director and Women’s Libber named Leslie, and they strike up a hip early ’70s relationship. Meanwhile Heaston and his men get wise to Duffy’s deception and make moves of their own to deceive him.

Following some clever investigative work where Duffy oversteps his authority to learn more about the heisters’ plans and some minor romance between Duffy and two of the female characters, the novel rolls to its climax aboard trains in the desert Southwest. There’s a surprise twist toward the end as Duffy realizes what Heaston’s crew are really after, and his entire operation to entrap them falls apart. Duffy, acting independently of the Bureau, decides to make a desperate last-minute gambit to try to resolve the situation that could cost him his career and his life.

I was expecting a story centered on Heaston and his heist crew, like a Parker or Drake novel, but as it turns out it’s more of a detective story about Duffy’s efforts to figure out what Heaston’s crew is up to and stop them. This isn’t necessarily bad, it’s just not the type of novel I prefer, being inclined toward the point of view of the shadow operators more than the lawmen. I would have liked this novel a lot if “Mad Anthony” Heaston had been the focus of the narrative rather than Duffy, because for me he was a much more compelling character. My other criticism is that there wasn’t a lot of action or intensity. Duffy carries out his investigation a little too flippantly; there’s never a sense of real physical danger, and the violent crew does little actual violence. While this is a well-told tale with an intriguing plot, Masterson doesn’t have the Jack Higgins flair for suspense and action that could have turned this detective story into a real thriller. If you like trains, heists and crime procedurals you’ll probably enjoy it, but otherwise it’s not that exceptional and I can see why this novel is now obscure.

Get a copy of The Great Train Hijack here.