If this were a movie about YOUR wilderness survival techniques?

This forum here, being so chock-full of assurances from people that they'd do much better surviving in the wilderness than Chris McCandless did, I thought it'd be interesting to find out how.

So…let’s pretend you get a Swiss army knife, a compass and a lighter.

I'll go first...here's what I'd do.
First up: establish a base of operations. Near water, of course...preferably running. A wide, quick-flowing river would do nicely. And I'd immediately get to work building a "lean-to" not too far from its banks (but not too close either, in case of flooding). Right outside its entrance, I'd assemble a fire pit, lined with rocks from the river bank, and start gathering as much firewood as I could find in order to try and stay warm through the night.

Next would be addressing food. I'd do my best to carve some fish hooks out of wood, which is probably so much more difficult than it sounds that I won't have carved a single one before I realize that I should be trying to figure out how to make a net instead. Except, as easy as it might be to find some fibrous plant to provide the rope, I'm not sure how you'd go about tying it into a net form...

Well at least there's water, I'm trusting that its drinkable but am making sure to avoid the areas along the riverbank where its pooled and instead gathering it from farther in, were its flowing fastest. Probably using my face, on account of not having anything else to store it in. Goddang that's some cold water. Probably should have lit the fire first.

Okay, never mind, I'm one of the commenters from Moviechat's "Into the Wild" board, so yada yada, six months later and my lean-to would have long been replaced by a log cabin…with a wisp of smoke curling up from its chimney and a number of hides and furs draped over the tanning rack out front, curing in the afternoon sunshine.

I’d probably be fully adorned in leathers by then (aside from my rabbit-fur underwear), with a rawhide quiver slung across my back and a pet falcon perched on my shoulder. Rancor, I probably call him. And Rancor and I are headed for the canoe, about to embark on another trek to old man Tucker's place, just down the river a spell. I'd once rescued the old prospector from a pack of hungry Timber wolves ( by befriending them) and he'd since kept me informed of my growing legendary status among the locals in exchange. He also grew pot, so we'd sometimes get high and forage for strawberries, gnaw on wild licorice and talk about how amazing I am.

Fast forward another six months and after some extended meditations, I was finally able to grant sentience to the small army of bears I'd amassed. Having woven their fur into a tight, ballistic resistant fiber-mesh, they stalked the countryside nigh invulnerable and reported back the kind of findings that had my forest friends and me uncovering mysteries and rectifying injustices in an otherwise unjust land. Usually violently. With a mixed martial arts technique I'd perfected. And I'd have dreadlocks.

But in all honesty, it'd probably take at least another year or so before I was finally able to reach a singularity with Mother nature, channel my life-force into Earth's magnetic field and become one with the universe for all eternity. There's no real guide on how to win at existence, you know? Would just have to play it by ear =D

Okay sorry, you?