Ditto. Bugging means it is time to leave, not time to become a caveman.

When I was living on the other side of the state, I had electric heat, electric cooking, and electric water pump. So after three days without power, I'd be wanting to some place else. I had friends I could go stay with, but I'd want to bring my own groceries. (I know how they stay so skinny- they don't eat.) Worst case, I head to my folks, which is normally a 90 minute drive, but as someone who's had a long history of junky cars and with only one real route there, being able to get out on foot is just a good plan.

All that went double when living in the dorms in college. I'm just glad I had a roommate who was into preps as much as I was. (Stop lurking- you know who you are.)

For a while, I was also living down valley of an industrial facility that has a building known simply as "the bunker", and contains things like hexaflorides. Figure it takes fifteen minutes for it get to where I was. Two to three minutes to get the emergency warning out if something goes wrong. Spend ONE (1) minute getting my boots on and grabbing my pack. That gave me time to get serious uphill by foot if I had to.

Or when I lived down wind of the nuclear plant...

Or across the street from the ag chem factory and railroad...

Yeah, as much my Dad can make me crazy, I'm glad I moved home. Oh, wait, they run tanker trucks on the interstate just above the house, and I've seen too many scary placards on them. It is about three quarters of a mile the way the crow flies, but also about 80 feet higher...