Let’s keep this simple.  This isn’t about turning a thru-hike into a survival course, and it’s not about adding pounds of junk to your pack.  It’s just insurance.

Most long-distance hikers already carry 80% of what they need to handle real problems. Quilt, pack, pot, lighter, phone — the basics are covered. The system works.

But there are a few gaps that show up when something actually goes wrong.  Not “camping uncomfortable.”  Actual problems.

Broken gear.  Navigation mistakes.  Cold rain you didn’t plan on.  An unplanned night out.

That’s where small weaknesses matter.

The 10 C’s are just the stuff that’s hard or impossible to improvise in the wild when you really need it. Things you can’t carve out of a stick or magically replace once you’re out there.

So this isn’t necessarily “bring more.”  It’s “swap smarter.”  Although there are a couple items that will have a small weight penalty that EVERY thru hiker should bring.

A few durable, multi-use tools that quietly turn a bad day into a manageable one.

That’s the whole idea.

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What are the 10 C’s?

Nothing complicated.  They’re simply the ten hardest things to produce in the wild.

Cutting tools. Fire. Navigation. Shelter. Water containers. Medical. That sort of thing.

Most hikers already carry half of them without realizing it. Your normal kit covers a lot.

This guide just tightens up the pieces that tend to fail first.

And it starts with the two that matter most.  Knife and compass.

If you have those two sorted, everything else gets easier.

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1 — Cutlery (Knife)

If you only get one true “problem solver,” it’s a knife.  Not a novelty blade. Not something that only opens snack wrappers.  A real knife that works every time.

When something has to function 100% of the time, moving parts are a liability. That’s why a simple full-tang fixed blade makes sense here. No pivots, no locks, nothing to break.

Something like the Morakniv Garberg is a good example of the sweet spot — tough, affordable, and still reasonable on weight. Not fancy, just dependable.

Now this isn’t about bushcraft or playing Rambo.  It’s about utility.

A knife should be able to 5 things proficiently:

• cut and shape wood to splint or repair a trekking pole or tent

• process dry kindling when everything’s wet

• strike sparks from the spine

• handle food prep

• cut cordage, tape, patches, whatever needs fixing

Basically: solve problems fast.

Last resort, it’s also personal protection. Nobody likes talking about that part, but remote areas aren’t a theme park. Animals exist. Occasionally bad people exist. The odds are low, but low odds are exactly what insurance is for.  

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2 — Compass

If the knife handles problems, the compass keeps you from creating bigger ones.  This one is non-negotiable for ALL thru hikers.  

Phones die.  Batteries drain in the cold.  Screens crack. GPS loses signal under tree cover or in bad weather.  A compass doesn’t care about any of that.  It just points north. Every time.

That sounds basic, but that tiny bit of certainty can be the difference between calmly walking yourself out and wandering around burning daylight.

It weighs almost nothing, takes up no space, and has infinite runtime. There aren’t many pieces of gear with a better return on weight.  If self-rescue matters — and it should — the Suunto MC2 (coming soon) is the only compass we recommend.  

Why navigation skills actually matter

Here’s something most people don’t realize.  Very few hikers get lost 30 miles from civilization.  Most are found within three to five miles of a road or town.  They weren’t far away.  They just didn’t know which direction was out. 

That’s the scary part.

When people lose reference points, they don’t walk straight. They drift. They loop. They unknowingly circle back on themselves. There’s actual research on this — without visual cues, humans naturally walk in circles even when trying not to.

Add fog, trees, stress, or fading daylight and it gets worse fast.  So it’s not usually distance that gets people.  It’s direction.  A compass fixes that instantly.  Pick a bearing.  Walk it. Done.  No guessing. No wandering. No burning hours hoping you’re right.

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This is why I teach kids navigation

This isn’t just gear for me — it’s a skill.  When I teach kids compass work, it clicks fast. Once they understand how to take a bearing and follow it, something changes. You can see the confidence show up.  Because now they’re not dependent on a phone.  They’re not hoping for signal.  They know how to move with intent.  That’s a legit superpower outdoors.

If you can:

• shoot a bearing

• walk a straight line

• and measure distance

you’re basically never “lost.” You’re just temporarily misplaced.  Huge difference.

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Pace count (the underrated trick nobody talks about)

Compass gives you direction.  Pace count gives you distance.  Together, that’s navigation.

It’s stupid simple:

Walk 100 meters. Count every time your right foot hits.
That number is your pace count.

Now you can estimate distance anywhere.

Need to go 300 meters? Walk your count three times.

Works in the dark. Works in fog. Works with zero tech.

Practice it with and without your pack because terrain and weight change the number. Write it down and keep it with your compass.

Old-school? Yeah.  Effective? 100%.

That’s all navigation really is.  Direction + distance.  Nothing fancy.  Just reliable.  And when things get weird out there, reliable beats fancy every time.

3 — Container

Most thru-hikers already carry a solid cook system.

The classic TOAKS 750ml titanium pot is hard to beat. Small, light, and the whole kitchen nests inside — canister, stove, lighter. It’s efficient and it works.

For normal hiking, it’s perfect.

But here’s the weak link most people don’t think about:

That setup only works as long as your stove works.

Run out of fuel.
Clog the stove.
Lose your lighter.
Soak everything in a cold rain.

Now you’ve got a metal cup… and no heat source.

That’s when a pot stops being a “cook system” and needs to become a fire system.

Big difference.

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This is where the Vargo BOTs quietly becomes one of the smartest pieces of insurance you can carry.

It’s still a pot.  Still titanium.  Still boils water.  Still nests gear.

But the screw-top lid changes everything.

Because now it’s not just a container — it’s a sealed metal chamber.

Which means you can make char cloth anywhere.

And most people never learn this trick.

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Char cloth — stupid simple, stupid effective

This isn’t bushcraft wizardry.

It’s basic physics.

Take 100% cotton.
Throw it in a metal container.
Close the lid (not airtight, just snug).
Put it in a fire.

Smoke comes out while the material cooks. When the smoke stops, it’s done.

Let it cool, open it up, and what you’re left with is almost pure carbon.

Black. Lightweight. Fragile.

And it will catch a spark ridiculously easy.

Not just from a ferro rod.

Even from the spine of a 1095 carbon steel knife and a random piece of flint or chert you find on the ground.

That tiny spark lands… and the cloth just glows.

Not flame — ember.

Slow, steady heat that gives you time to build a proper tinder bundle.

No rushing. No panic. Just spark → ember → flame.

Repeatable every time.

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Here’s the part that matters:

If you carry char cloth, your next fire is basically guaranteed.

You’re not depending on butane.
You’re not depending on dry matches.
You’re not hoping your lighter works.

You’ve got a low-tech, caveman-level ignition source that doesn’t fail.

Spark. Light. Done.

That’s real redundancy.

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And this is exactly why the BOT HD stands out.

Because the screw lid limits oxygen, which keeps the material from burning to ash. It chars instead of combusts.

Most open pots can’t do that reliably.

So now your everyday cook pot doubles as:

• char cloth maker

• tinder storage

• sealed container

• boil vessel

Same weight class. Way more capability.

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Tie this back to the knife and it all connects.

Knife processes wood.
Container makes char.
Spark lights it.

Now you’ve got heat no matter what.

That’s not “survival fantasy.”

That’s just smart insurance when things don’t go according to plan.