Kitchen table survival skills are survival skills you can put into practice from your kitchen table. I humbly submit my set of tried and tested (and at times learned from bitter experience) non-glamorous, but effective, kitchen table survival skills:

There's not always a choice, but having a good handle on the weather (know your clouds) can mean the difference between a nice day out and a disaster.

As Alistair Humphrey's writes in his book Local, "Unfolding a map is the ritual that launches all good journeys." There's art and science in route planning—considering the needs and abilities of your party, the terrain, the effect of the weather or altitude, availability of water, interest and views, access, timing, trail condition and more. So many varied aspects go into it. When planning a family hike now, we weigh up a very different set of factors than we did for two fit twenty-somethings happy to endure a little hardship.

If you're going to the wilderness, go with somebody if you can, and leave your intended plan with friends or family back home. If you're not back when expected, at least you'll have someone looking out for you, and a rescue party will know where to start looking.

OK, so it doesn't seem like a survival skill exactly, but going with a local guide will work wonders for your survival. You might not need one for a walk in the local woods, but if you fancy hiking on a glacier or venturing down a river, and it's not something you do too often, then hiring a guide will be the best survival decision you make.

Sure, you can head out and figure it out when you're out there, but mountains, and wilderness generally, are capricious places. There's so much a good hiking book, or a recent trip report can teach you before you set out. Is a river crossable? Is there still snow on a pass? Are the mosquitoes out in force? How long is it likely to take? How much up and down will there be? Where can you camp? And on and on.

Whenever I've been on semi-serious expeditions, I've been very impressed with the kit lists provided by our guides. Every item is carefully chosen—like, say, bringing the 10 essentials—and lists are refined and revisited after each trip. It's rarely exciting assembling your kit and running through lists, but if it means you remembered spare batteries, the water filter, mosquito repellent, or a fire lighter it may prove your saving grace in the wild.

More mundane perhaps, but still helpful, is packing your gear in the right places and order in which you'll use it. You're much more likely to stop and put on sun lotion or a warm hat if it isn't stuffed under your sleeping bag in the depths of your backpack.

When we're tired, it's easy to make poor decisions. The best defence I know for this is to plan trips within your limits so you aren't trying to find a camp spot in the dark, feeling too tired to filter the water, or too tired to keep track of where you're going. After a long day, it's easy to start skipping the things that keep us safe, like putting on an extra layer or stopping for water. A guide once told me, "don't be too lazy to be comfortable."

A small, but very useful practice, I've adopted is having a good awareness of time on your excursions. Plan in advance and estimate how long different sections may take. Making a mental note of when you set off from the trailhead or from a rest stop gives you a sense of your progress, lets you know what it might take to get back if you need to, and teaches you how far you might get ahead of you. If your pace is changing, you'll have a good idea of how strong everyone is still feeling. Knowing when the sun rises and sets and how much daylight you have left means you're less likely to find yourselves in the dark without a headlamp.

I'm sure you might have more to add to the list.

This set came from reflecting on our survival skills before a brilliant chat with Brendan Leonard of the excellent Semi-rad about all things Ultra on the Sketchplanations podcast (episode out in Autumn 2024). Growing up in the 80s, for me survival skills were things Crocodile Dundee had, or perhaps MacGyver. More recently, Bear Grylls would demonstrate making a shelter in the jungle, starting fires, or catching salmon to survive in the wild. However, I realised that my survival skills were much less glamorous, but still rather effective, and most of them are used before I head out on a trip. In other words, my survival skills are ones that mean (touch wood) I don't get into a scrape that need the traditional survival skills most of us think of.

As with so much in life, it's often the unglamorous stuff that makes the difference, like showing up every day, replicating before innovating, writing a rubbish first draft, or re-writing.

I hope this set may keep your expeditions Type I or Type II fun, rather than Type III.

Don't make important decisions on an empty stomach

Perhaps you were really expecting something about a kitchen table: how to set a table

Kitchen table survival skills

The 3-day effect is the name give to what happens to us after being out in Nature for 3 days or more. Something about it resets us and improves our mood, our wellbeing, and how well our brain is working.

Observed by river rafting guide Ken Sanders who used to see a marked change in the groups he led on the 3rd day of being out on the river, it’s known as the 3-day effect. Since then, David Strayer and his group at the University of Utah have conducted studies that measured a real change in our calmness and even our creative problem-solving after 3 or more days in Nature.

“I think it takes the first two days and nights to wash away whatever veneer of civilization you have brought with you. The new reality begins on that third day.”

More about the 3 day effect at National Geograhic: This is your brain on Nature and REI: The Nature Fix.

No doubt similar things at work to the magic of forest bathing.

The 3-day effect

The Fun Scale categorizes different types of fun experiences into distinct levels. It consists of three main types of fun: Type 1, Type 2, and Type 3. The concept behind the Fun Scale is that not all fun is created equal, and some types may be more rewarding or memorable than others.

My brother, who learned it from a mountain guide, introduced me to the Fun Scale. Before then, I used to think that fun was just fun. But the Fun Scale opened my eyes to the fact that there are levels and types of fun, each with its own characteristics. 

So, what are the three types of fun in the Fun Scale?

Type 1 fun is the most straightforward type of fun. It’s the kind of activity that is fun while you’re doing it, and it stays fun when you think back on it. Picture something like eating ice cream on a hot day, riding a roller coaster, or skiing with lifts to whisk you right back to the top. Type 1 fun is carefree, pleasurable in the moment, and provides uncomplicated enjoyment.

I'm sure you can think of a million more.

Type 2 fun: hurts a bit to do, but fun in retrospect

On the other hand, Type 2 fun is a bit trickier. It's the kind of activity where you may not have a blast while you're doing it—it's probably hard work or even painful. However, once it's over, you look back on it with a sense of achievement, and it becomes fun in retrospect.

This is the sort of enjoyment you get from something like running a marathon or climbing a mountain. At the time, you might question why you're doing it. Brendan Leonard in Ultra-something relates the joke, "You know what I like most about climbing a mountain? It feels so good when I stop."

You'll often think of Type 2 fun as ultimately more fulfilling and often somewhat addictive than Type I fun.

Cycling a mountain stage of the Tour de France

Cold water swimming (or maybe an ice mile)

Type 3 fun: not fun to do, not fun in retrospect, but makes a great story

Type 3 fun is usually type 1 or 2 fun that went wrong. Though it was supposed to be fun, things actually got a little hairy. Perhaps a trip started out like good Type 2 fun, but then you got lost, or it got dark, and it got cold, or things got much more serious than intended. Maybe you had to be rescued.

This kind of fun is not fun while it's happening. It's probably not even fun when thinking back on it. But Type 3 fun sure makes a great story when you make it back, and, well, life is made up of great stories, so perhaps it wasn't so bad after all.

Not practicing your kitchen table survival skills

There are rumours of Type 4 fun and Type 5 fun, but having heard some good stories of Type 3 fun and created a few myself, I can't say I recommend them =)

The Fun Scale, adventure and fulfilment: why we crave Type 2 and Type 3 fun

In our podcast discussing the Fun Scale, Tom, identified Rob and I as Type 2 Fun junkies. There's something intriguingly addictive about setting yourself difficult challenges, pushing through hardship, and emerging out the other side. Rob and I have signed up for a challenging endurance event pretty much every year for the last decade or so. Every single time the event on the day is really hard. And yet, once the immediate memories subside we find ourselves signing up for something similar next year.

Even if it's not you, I'm sure you probably know someone who seems to keep pushing themselves to do things that they don't seem to enjoy. It reminds me of Calvin imitating his dad in Calvin and Hobbes: "Calvin, go do something you hate! Being miserable builds character!"

Type 2 fun and type 3 fun, to some extent, help build character, life experiences and the stories that shape us and are fun to tell others. The sense of accomplishment and unforgettable stories that emerge from these experiences outweigh the discomfort in the long run.

Type 1 fun is fun when you do it and fun to remember.

Type 2 fun is not so fun when you do it, but it is fun in retrospect and is the most fulfilling.

And Type 3 fun is not fun in the moment or when you remember it—but it makes the best stories!

I have seen people write about Type A fun, Type B fun and Type C fun, or Type I fun, Type II fun and Type III fun, but I learned it as 1, 2 and 3.

The Fun Scale is probably my favourite idea that didn't make it into my new book. If you like this one, you'll love the book Big Ideas Little Pictures.

Kaffikok - the distance you can go before needing a coffee

The fun scale: understanding the types of fun

Pour, don't dip when sharing snacks was something I learned for backpacking but it really always makes sense once you think about it.

Pouring onto a hand keeps dirty hands out of the rest of the snacks in much the same way as a drinking fountain manages to be hygienic by shooting out the water.

Pour, don’t dip when sharing snacks

What should you make sure you have with you when you head out to the wilderness? A lot of stuff may prove handy, but perhaps the best checklist to start from for stuff that may get you out of a fix is the 10 Essentials by the Seattle-based Mountaineers group. 

This is a version of their systems list which focuses on what the objects need to do rather than specifically which objects you should bring. So, for example, insulation may be warm clothes but could be a wind breaker or waterproofs for snow or rain rather than cold.

Check out Mountaineering: The Freedom of the Hills

PS
I modified it very slightly for space and simplicity. Don’t blame me if you are stuck in the wilderness without the right kit.

The 10 Essentials

It’s the general sage backcountry camping advice - don’t camp right on the edge of water, but so often people are tempted to camp right on the edge. But there are excellent reasons not to: there are more bugs, it gets much colder and damper overnight, and you’re likely to disturb animals coming for a drink which is not good for your sleep, your camp, or good for them. Instead, camp 50 yards, or more, away, and go watch the sunset by the edge of the lake - preferably with a dip.

Why camp 50 yards from water

In temperate latitudes and around the Summer. 12 minutes per finger. 1 hour for your fist. (hat tip to Joel Wilson)

Backpacking sketches