Tech Rep for a military contractor in the Electronic Warfare field, I grew up in a military family where I heard my dad say more than once, “People today wouldn’t be able to survive without the convenience of power and running water delivered right into their homes.”

It started innocently enough. Several years ago, like a lot of people, I got interested in prepping. Not the tinfoil-hat extreme stuff, but practical preparedness — thinking ahead about supply chains, natural disasters, economic uncertainty, and how to protect my family if things got dicey.

What began as buying extra canned goods and learning advanced first aid quickly snowballed. I dove deep into research: books, forums, government reports, survival manuals.

Then I started interviewing other preppers — folks from every walk of life. Suburban dads, off-grid families, former military, even some with high-level security backgrounds.

Their stories were eye-opening. Real-world lessons, hard-won wisdom, and scenarios I’d never considered.

Before I knew it, I had volumes of data. Spreadsheets of supply lists, risk assessments, bug-out routes. I built multiple contingency plans — layered, realistic, and adaptable.

Then came the training: I sought out and worked with several former special operations guys who helped me move from theory to hands-on skills. Shooting, tactical movement, emergency medicine, decision-making under stress.

It was intense, humbling, and incredibly valuable.

One day it hit me: I wasn’t just prepping anymore. I had accidentally built the backbone of a damn good thriller.

All that research, those interviews, the contingency plans, the training — it became the foundation for The Ridge Plan.