So this happened to me a while back, I want to say that I was foolish and should've stayed at home. My friends and family had been worried but at least I survived. I may be old for my age, but if it weren't for my primitive instincts and my modern knowledge I wouldn't have made it through the blizzard.

It started off like any other morning on an early spring weekend. I, Tesla Westinghouse, an old mouse pokémon who enjoys the great outdoors. I was born in the wilderness, not here on Faraday Island, but in the faraway region of Kanto. Adjusting to human society was hard, but I did okay. However, I still wanted to maintain that wild connection. On occasion I would leave my former trainer's farm and hiked my way into the wilderness on foot, alone, with no sense of direction whatsoever.

A simple-minded pikachu would take nothing on hiking adventures, but not me. I had a small green backpack, made out of handcrafted leather that was dyed green to match Faraday Island's temperate environment. Inside was bright gray nylon that was stitched into the confines of the backpack, filled with custom-made pouches. It had essential survival tools, like firestarters, a USB rechargeable angled flashlight, first aid kit, protein bars and several multi-tools. It also contained my tablet which was connected to the Island's cellular network. I use it to stay in contact with my family and monitor what is going on back at home. To keep them powered, I had a portable solar panel setup with an 9000mAH energy storage and a USB-powered battery charger for the nickel metal hydrides and 18650 lithium cells. Last but not least, an emergency communicator to signal Mark, his father, and Gizmo to come rescue me if I get myself in a jam.

The hike to my usual stomping grounds wasn't that far. The island's interior was natural forestry compared to the ten kilometer border zone. Almost no development occurs here and food was next to impossible to find. The island's biome is a bit unusual. . Here, the weather never gets anywhere above 25 degrees Celsius and the weather always plummets way below zero. Big ancient conifers covered much of the landscape with grasslands and young spruce woods. I could see where the virgin forests end and where saplings began.

The island's denizens had a forest campaign going on for over fifty years. They were taking an array of the island's tree species and were planting them out in what used to be grasslands. The savannas marked the path of ancient volcanic lava flows from Mount Faraday, which had been silent for 500 years since the hotspot had cooled. I for one, had seen better diversity back in my day. I walked along the young shoots of spruce, maple, and oak trees. They were clustered around each other in a neat organized fashion. Smaller shrubbery was planted underneath them to help for nutrients. I could see some berry bushes and some mushrooms, all of which not edible. Viridian Forest had more resources and life, but not this Island. Too cold to grow anything outside of a greenhouse. Whatever vital nutrients there was had to be dug out below the lava flow layer. Faraday City had a specialized vertical agriculture system to feed its growing population, but they kept food stored away in case of hard times. Here, in the forests, environmentalists went to great lengths to cultivate wild fruit berries and plant them here with some success. Though it is frowned upon by the FEPA, due to the risk of invasive species.

Then the Dixierats came, everything changed. This clan of pichus, pikachus, and raichus came in from a freighter and invaded the island. They had evenly distributed themselves around the island, taking residence within the urban zone, mostly around the inner and outer rings of Faraday City. Here, they found themselves into the homes of caring people. Those who prefer to stay free range took residence within the woods, where they somehow gathered up food from the local environment.

Whatever success was gained, the Dixierats and non-chu pokémon benefited. There are at least a dozen clusters of Dixierat communities along with a mixture of smaller pokémon groups. None of them were no bigger than 150cm, not enough food to sustain a creature any larger. There hasn't been much tension between the species, everybody seemed to be getting along. Though the Dixierats tend to eat more than other pokémon, leading to an occasional skirmish. So far I kept an eye on both pokémon groups, I have yet to avert my gaze.

I walked through the ancient conifer forest, sticking to Dixierat trails. The trails are like any small pokémon trails, but they're only as wide as a raichu. A trained wilderness expert could tell this trail was mostly used by electric mice pokémon, random burnt marks that were spotted all over the trail were caused used by the chus when they shock their berries to soften them up, or from shocking random objects if curious. Sometimes they can get spooked and they'll shock whatever provoked them, which is most likely to be the branch of a bush. This can be problematic during wildfire season, especially in the conifer forests of the Frontier Zone. The Faraday Island Fire Department will come in and put out the blaze in less than five minutes. One time I've heard of a case where a single tree caught fire. Lightning would ground straight down the spine of a fat spruce tree and the core would smoulder. Sometimes, it would burn holes through the bark, which creates a chimney effect that kindles the burn into a full blown blaze, which can risk spreading to other trees. Sometimes the tree contains the fire and it fizzles out, or the firefighters drown it when they get there. They're rare, but they do happen.

The burn spots were a reassuring reminder of ancient chus from back in my day. A basic, instinctual habit built right into our subconsciousness. A reminder who I really was. Ever since I had become an educated chu, I had never felt the need to cause random burn marks on the ground. However, I still get paranoid like any other chu, especially if I hear a twig snap behind me. I kept on going down the trail, walking along on my two hind legs. I sense no pokémon activity in the area. Maybe the Wildchus were still asleep, once the season gets warm again this forest will have a bigger chu presence. I kept going on the trail, listening to the silence of the sleeping forest.

I came across a fork in the trail, splitting off into three directions. I turned right, it curved around and broke into a clearing. Up ahead was a river leading up to the water treatment plant at Mount Faraday. The river used to be part of an ancient runoff system from a long gone glacier. When Faraday Island's Army Corp of Engineers had built the water treatment plant years ago, they paved the old river system with concrete to increase flow and prevent erosion. From what I was told, the water treatment plant pumped in saltwater from the ocean and used the heat energy from a nuclear reactor to desalinate it. Then the water is filtered, treated, tested for radiation leakage before being dumped straight into the drinking water system. Since much of the wastewater is collected and re-purified, the excess water is dumped into the manmade river, which flows into Faraday's cities canals and fountains while also keeping the lakes and water table full.

I traveled up the river, keeping an eye out for hikers and pokémon. Warning signs that read, Do Not Pollute the Water / Violators Will be Prosecuted, were posted every ten meters on both sides of the river. The FIPD does a good job in enforcing the regulation laws on the river and the sanitation crews make regular patrols to remove debris from the river. I wouldn't drink the water as it is, but I would boil it. I have heard and seen too many cases from my childhood where pokémon would get sick just by drinking the water. Even though they have good immunity against waterborne diseases, the diarrhea alone will kill a chu. I never trust natural flowing water, even if it is clear. There's no telling what's floating around in water that could ruin your day.

I hiked upriver, staying well away from the river's edge. Ahead was a drawbridge, the bridge was raised well above the river's waterline and built on concrete ramps. The Army Corp of Engineers liked drawbridge designs for the river. It helps them control people's movements in case of an emergency. There's a control box on both sides of a river and requires a hydraulic drill to operate the drawbridge gears. These drawbridges were designed to hold the weight of a heavy tank and were built to handle severe weather and sabotage. There aren't any girders underneath the bridges so you could grapple hook your way across, just a smooth concrete bottom covered with moss and mold.

This drawbridge in question was down, I walked across the bridge and made my way deeper into the Faradian heartland. Both Faradian humans and pokémon alike call this area the "Frontier Zone", because by Faraday Law no permanent structure should be built within the forest. These were protected lands, a national park in a sense, but far from it. Humans were not allowed to set up shop and call home, they couldn't legally build a shack and live in it. Pokémon on the other hand had free reign, and the Frontier Zone was under pokémon jurisdiction. I have full rights to do whatever the fuck I want on this land. Pokémon have power here, but the rikachu and PRA warlords regulate that power. Since I am their boss, that means I own the property unofficially. Temporarily to be fair, because it's my job.

I come out here at least once a month to get away from the drama in my life. My part-time job at the University of Faraday, my full-time job as the Head of Dixie, and all the bullshit in between. I'm a country chu, I like being rural, in the mud and stick. This is the world I was born in, not in a world of roads, restaurants, glass skyscrapers, crowded with people and pokémon, but one of earth, stone, wood, and water. Untamed wilderness. Civilization spoiled me, I sit on my ass and stuff my fat face with junk food while pokémon out in the sticks struggle to find a meal to eat. Don't get me wrong, some wild pokémon are better off than others, but in the end life is cruel. I know, I lived long enough to see all the hardships this world had to offer. So just to remember my roots and remind me who I really was, I come out into the wilderness just be alone.

I stepped into the thicket of the spruce forest, surrounded by skeletons of plant vegetation. My biggest mistake was to come out here after spring occurred, which was a dumb move. I didn't realize it right away, but I got a hint that something was wrong when I noticed the sky had an even gray hue and the wind was a little chilly. An ominous sign, and I was oblivious. Either due to old age or I was just getting careless, maybe overconfidence played a role. I convinced myself that I was well prepared, which tuned down my internal warning bell. Rather than turning back home when I had the chance, I kept going, convinced I had thought of everything.

I made it to a large clearing, a wide open space near the center of the Frontier Zone. I walked around to the edge and approached my hideout. Nobody standing outside could see the entrance, as it is covered up with live vegetation and surrounded by a thick log wall. I climbed over a small gap and stepped inside the sheltered burrow. Right behind the wall was a large pit filled with ash and charred wood, behind it were two vents reinforced with tin coffee cans to keep them from collapsing. The wall sits above on the gap, which not only acts as shelter, but as a heat reflector as well. I had dug out the pit to get the best out of my wood, it works really well and keeps the flames and light hidden from view.

I crawled inside the actual burrow. It was raised up high and was roomy, insulated with natural vegetation. Thick logs I had chopped down last summer lined the side wall, they look dried enough to be burned. I took off my backpack and sat it aside. I then grabbed armfulls of logs the size of my thigh and laid them out over the firepit. I filled the gaps between them with ash, then grabbed one log and baton it into sticks with my knife and a piece of wood. I laid that out evenly across my log platform, then got out my fatwood and shaved off slivers to form a tinder bundle. I made two tinder bundles, since this fire is wider than usual. The idea was to lit both ends of the firelay rather than just the middle. Heat will be coming from two points, rather than just one, and it also speeds up ignition time. I sat down my bundles at both ends of the log platform and batoned more sticks from a couple of more logs. I laid them evenly across my firepit, then took struck a match and lit my tinder bundles.

Once I got my tinder bundles lit, I dropped the match into the middle of my firelay then sat back and watch the flames grow. The fire consumed the tinder nests and absorbed the kindling. I could start feeling the heat it was giving off. I let it burn for a moment, then started batoning more logs into sticks. I kept feeding the two fires until it fused into one, then I waited for the coals to form. There was something about watching fire burn. Fire is dangerous, and yet it can be controlled. I wondered how humankind reacted to the invention of fire, what kind of techno revolution it had to get to its current point. For my species, fire was something new. My parents and recent ancestors hadn't used it, no need to since we were in a burrow sharing our body heat during cool periods. I wondered how they would react when they hear I had mastered the ability to control fire, terrified perhaps.

Once the fire started burning into the log platform, I used a stick to spread the ashes around. Next I got out my canteen, pulled out its cup, and filled it with water. I then added a packet of tea inside before setting it on the fire. I had no knowledge of pathogens in my childhood. My parents knew that some water sources can be drunk from and not in others. Waterborne disease wasn't that bad since we chus have robust immune systems, but on occasion one chu would dehydrate to death due to camper's diarrhea. Sometimes when my parents would go foraging in someone's garden, my siblings and I would take a drink from the water spigot sticking out of the ground. We knew that the water coming from the spigot was safe, but we didn't know why. All we know is that the water from the spigot wouldn't make us sick. We filled our bellies up with clean water before eating the vegetables. Since we get most of our water from the fruit we eat in the wild, finding sources of water wasn't always a problem.

When I noticed my tea starting to boil, I used two sticks to pull the cup out of the fire and set it aside to cool. I added in more sticks, I watched the fire burn for a moment before getting out my tablet. I know, this is nature, and here I am using a tech gadget. I have to stay in contact with the outside world. I am in an area of the island that contains the least signs of civilization, if something goes wrong out here I would be in big trouble. I opened up my messages and located my group.

The built-in messaging app can be accessed not only on portable devices but on notebook laptops, video phones, and digital tablets and pocket-sized communicators. My long-time best friend Matthew Kissinger, his son Commissioner Emmett, his grandson Mark, and my late trainer's grandson Andrew Westinghouse were all in the same group. I had told them that every time I would go out into the wilderness, or leave the island for that matter, I would stay in touch with them through the messaging system. I know the emergency beacon is overkill, but it's for emergencies only and I want some luxury to use while I'm out here. However, since I wished to be left alone. I would only contact them around six hundred hours and eighteen hundred hours, twice a day, just to report in. Even if I have to stop what I was doing just to send out a text message.

I opened up the messaging app and sent a single message: "Made it to my spot, set up a fire and boiled tea. All is good and nothing worrying to report."

I turned off the tablet after after sending the message and stuck it back into my backpack. I sat by the fire and let it warm me up, then I got down to lunch. The MRE was supposed to be a cheesy macaroni. I added in some water from my canteen and used my camping utensil to eat it. MRE are not the best appetizing. Some people say it taste like wet garbage, especially the vegetable varieties. I had experience from eating out of the garbage, I can tell you that it sounds just about right. But I don't mind, my dad always says that you eat what you can get a hold of cause there's no telling when the next meal will come around. I had to get used to eating a lot of unappetizing things, so I don't mind the taste of wet garbage.

Once I got that down, I tossed the empty bag into the fire and leaned against the wall of the burrow. Every time I come out here after I hike, I always get something in my belly before having a nap. I'm old and walking is a pain, and I'm a lazy chu who likes sleeping so a nap is always a must. I laid back and rested for a while.

. . .

When I woke up, there was still enough daylight to do a few things. So I got up, grabbed my multi-tool hatchet and set out into the woods. I wanted to gather up some kindling and tinder. I had plenty of firewood but not enough material for a fast flame. I set out and walked to a conifer area where I began collecting twigs and pine cones. I grabbed armfuls of it, since pine wood contains a lot of oils that could burn. I was also reducing the fire risk out here by picking up all the dry material that would fuel a forest fire. Since I was a small chu, I couldn't grab the sticks hanging off of the trees and bushes. I was forced to pick kindling off the ground, some of the twigs and branches might be waterlogged but I had to make due with what I got. The oils in the wood should help it burn as such.

I got back to my camp and dumped the twigs by the fire. The sky got darker, might as well pay a visit to the river to get some water to boil. I went back down the direction I walked to and made it to the river. I took off my backpack and pulled out my big stainless steel water bottle. I wrapped my hands around the straps and unscrewed the wide-mouth lid, then dunk it into the water. Once it was full, I capped the lid and make a quick scan of my surroundings. One thing I don't like about the river was that it was open territory going both directions, not much cover to speak of. I didn't want to get caught exposed out here. Hiker or not, my pikachu instincts wouldn't allow it. So I hightailed it out of there and zigged zagged my way back to my camp, just in case I was being followed.

When I got back, I unscrewed the lid and removed the straps before sitting the bottle in the fire. I added in more kindling and a log, then I set out one final time to the pine forest. This time I located a dead tree, it had died of some sort of bark disease and was now rotting. I chopped it down with my multi-tool hatchet. Not an easy feat when you're the size of a midget, but I got the job done. I stepped back and watched the tree tip over before crashing on the ground in a silent thud. I then whipped out my saw blade on the hatchet handle and cut a couple of small log-size pieces. I packed my hatchet away and carried those log pieces back to camp.

I sat one of the log pieces down on the kindling bundle and got out my knife, I batoned the logs into four sections of wood. I eyed my water every now and then, waiting for it to boil. Within ten minutes the water started to simmer, then it started boiling out the top. I grabbed a stick and nudged the bottle out of the fire, I then used my multi-tool hatchet to pick it up by the bottom and sat it against the wall to cool. I looked up at the sky. It had a dark gloomy gray color to them, the sun had set, it meant that it was almost time for bed.

I got out my tablet, boot it up, and typed in a check-in text message. I noticed I received one from Mark, it read: Found a camp not too far from your location. A group of hikers, judging by the frequencies of their communicators and tablets I'm guessing around four people. You can avoid them if you want, or they might have something that you like. Just saying, it's up to you.

I didn't reply to the message, instead I send out the usual check-in message. I then opened up my school email. Some of my students had sent me messages about school-related things, questions on research papers, tests, or just in general. I wrote several replies back to them, archived the emails, and then checked my personal email. Several messages from friends, including a few from my rikachus. Just daily reports about their lives, I replied to some of them and then archived the rest. Once my inboxes were clean, I went back to the messaging app and opened up the coordinates Mark sent me. It showed my current location as well as the coordinates to the camp. I'm guessing a five kilometer hike to the northeast. The camp was a little too close to a nearby Wildchu colony. Somewhat of a concern. It could mean that these people were poachers looking to slaughter my blood line and gut their bodies for parts to sell on the black market, or they're just hikers on a day out. I trust that Mark said it was hikers, but he could be wrong.

I turned off my tablet and stuck it back inside my backpack. I then threw a few more logs into the fire before picking up my steel bottle and filling up my cup and canteen. I boiled up this time some hot cocoa while eating through another MRE, I drank the cocoa down before taking a few gulps of water from my canteen. I then refilled it with the water from my steel bottle, then cleaned out my cup. I packed everything back inside my backpack, sealed it up and took it back inside the burrow where I retired for the night. The human camp stayed on my mind for a while, I think it was something to check out for tomorrow. Who knows what kind of goodies they might have.