I only forgot my coffee, which was a relief.

We had critical redundancy in every other facet of the day trip and were thoroughly prepared.

It’s hard to know where to draw the line when it comes to adventures with a 13 month old. Our plan was to suffer a light rain on a 45-minute skiff ride to a hunting spot then dry out and warm up in the Seek Outside hot tent either with the titanium stove, or the Mr. Heater portable propane heater. Propane heaters create quite a bit of moisture, but it was just a day trip and good ventilation would keep condensation low.

We had Haleigh in a wool base layer, bibs, puffy jacket, one of those rain gear things that looks like a squirrel suit for BASE jumping, all of which she would have tolerated had we not added the life jacket.

By the time we arrived at the beach the rain had stopped. Tent up, ground sheet down, heater burning, it was time for a snack and for me to creep into the muskegs behind the small clearing.

I had been worried all morning because it’s always the unknown that gets you. You try to be prepared for the but it’s impossible to completely eliminate risk. This is why it’s easier to just stay at home and have memories of everything you did when you were younger, before you had kids, until…

I can’t help but wonder what my ancestors in Scandinavia did 500 years ago. How cold and wet and possibly hypothermic were my great, great, great, great, great (you get the idea) grandmother and father on an outing with my great-minus-one mother.

But just because our ancestors did it doesn’t mean we should reject all we have learned about self preservation and ignore modern conveniences.

In Deep Survival, Lawrence Gonzalez writes about the Sandpile effect. A sandpile is in a continuous state of collapse. Most of the collapses are insignificant so the pile stays the same height or grows slowly until there is a catastrophic slide. Gonzalez relates this to the programs that we create for our lifestyle systems.

In terms of outdoor adventure, there may be something flawed about our system, but since we get away with it we bookmark it as success. We create a map of the world that contains memories of what happened and project the same for the future.

You forgot the filter, but have a backpacking stove and fuel to boil water. The little buddy heater doesn’t work, but you brought the titanium tent stove, dry wood, tinder and starter.

The system has critical redundancy and all seems fine, but a different variable reveals the flaw in our system and the consequences are catastrophic.

Do you have a lighter and does it work? If not, do you have matches?

Our ancestors had a tremendous amount of survival knowledge—some people are obviously much closer to that time period based on historical migration—but still a slim margin for error.

Today we have so many safeguards, but there are no guarantees.

So is there a flaw in my system? How many different ways can I make a fire? What’s the back up for the back up. As I picked my way through the brush toward the muskeg and sat at the base of a yellow cedar to call, I felt more prepared than paranoid. Abby was probably walking on the beach with Haleigh who was probably looking for cool rocks to chuck. Or eat.

I was happy that the inability to completely eliminate risk hadn’t kept us at home.

Jeff Lund is a freelance writer based in Ketchikan. His book, “A Miserable Paradise: Life in Southeast Alaska,” is available in local bookstores and at Amazon.com. “I Went to the Woods” appears twice per month in the Sports & Outdoors section of the Juneau Empire.