It isn't just an earthquake, but a Subduction Zone Event, or SZE.
The word "earthquake" doesn't quite communicate that what we are talking about here isn't just a little shake-n-shimmy. Rather, it's the massive readjustment of two entire continental plates that have been slowly building up more than ten yards -- that's thirty feet -- of tension between them over a period of three centuries. When that much earth shifts over a span of six hundred miles, the power is truly awesome -- and more destructive than you can imagine.
I've been studying earthquakes for years, and it still terrifies me when I think our SZE may be imminent... as I do now.
... So please pardon the wet spot...
Have any firearms to protect your water and generator and gasoline and fridge and blankets and sleeping bags and pit bulls?
Or are you just going to scare people off by wearing your Obama Halloween costume?
My hubby and I weren't comfortable with the idea of being stuck in the city in the aftermath of a Subduction Zone Event.
I've worked as an engineer for City Light, and I'm not at all confident that our dams will hold. The youngest and largest of the dams in the Cascades in Skagit county, Ross Dam, is more than sixty years old. The next youngest is Diablo, which was built in 1929.
If either of those dams or any other major generation facilities are significantly damaged -- which is likely -- it may be quite some time before our power systems are back up and running.
Much of downtown Seattle is built on fill soil that was trucked in from the Denny "regrade" area at the base of Queen Anne hill. You can expect that soil to liquify in an earthquake.
Furthermore, Seattle is built right on top of the "Seattle Fault". When my brothers and I were kids, you could see the fault when you drove past it on the freeway: the earth on the side of the hill just south of downtown is layered, and at the fault the layers don't match up.
Geologists think it is very likely that a Cascadia SZE would release any built-up stresses along other major faults on the West Coast, such as the Seattle Fault, the Portland West Hills fault, and the San Andreas fault.
Much of the public water supply is held in large above-ground cisterns -- water towers -- that could conceivably topple in a large earthquake. Pipes will break; and clean water may not be available in most or all of the city for weeks.
Of course, there are still lots of rivers and lakes on the West Coast... but we haven't exactly been keeping them clean, have we?

So in order to use that water, people will need to have filters and/or water purification tablets stored in advance. Those items won't be easily available after the fact.
More good news? Oh, yeah, roads. None of the freeway overpasses built before 1995 were constructed to meet modern seismic standards. Your best bet for north-south travel in the aftermath is along 405 -- but I wouldn't count on even that.
Pray you aren't in downtown Seattle, where the glass will pile up two to three feet deep in the streets, and the Key Tower will knock against the Columbia Center.
(City Light is in the Key Tower. When we were hit with a minor earthquake, the civil engineers got busy calculating the range of motion of both towers. In a 7 or greater earthquake, they'll sway enough to collide at their top floors.)
And we all know the Alaskan Way viaduct will do an Alameda.
Downtown Portland may experience severe tsunami-related flooding hours or days after the event, as the tsunami works its way up the Columbia and the Willamette.
Oh, and that hill behind downtown Portland? That hill marks the West Hills fault, where one landmass moves up and the other moves down. All those expensive mansions and condos up there? ... I think you can guess the rest.
So... what to do in the aftermath if you were one of the smart ones who got ready? What will others do when they're dying of thirst and the lakes are too filthy to drink? What will they do when they're hungry and they smell your food?
My hubby and I didn't like those questions, nor the answers that might be given even if we were armed.
So, we moved away from the city. Now we live next to a year-round creek in a neighborhood that can only be reached by one bridge, and there's plenty of dynamite nearby to blow that if necessary.
We aren't rude enough to ask our neighbors whether they're prepared for a disaster; but when the power went out for two weeks last winter, several of our neighbors already had generators. We're fairly certain that most of them have food, too; and the creek can take care of our water needs forever.
-- Paravani