Josh Duhamel Says He’s 70 Percent Apocalypse‑Ready at His Minnesota Doomsday Cabin, And Yes, He’s Practicing His Fishing

Josh Duhamel says he is about 70 percent prepared to ride out an apocalypse at his Minnesota “doomsday cabin,” detailing the plan in a new interview with People.
Hi, I am Jaden Patel. Consider this your reminder that some celebrities collect awards, and others collect water filters.
The 52-year-old Ransom Canyon star has a getaway that is less red carpet, more red plaid. He told People he has “enough” to get by if things go south, but he would not call it a perfect score. His honesty rating: refreshingly precise at “not 100 percent, probably 70 percent.” In other words, prepared enough to outlast a long weekend, not quite ready to reboot civilization. He admits he wants sharper skills that actually keep people fed. As he put it, he could be a better hunter, he could be a better fisherman, and yes, a bit more food stockpiling would not hurt.
If this all sounds like a new phase, it is not. Duhamel has been building this off grid setup for roughly 15 years, a detail he shared with Parade earlier this year. The closest store is about 40 miles away, which means grocery runs double as cardio. The retreat sits roughly an hour and a half from Fargo, North Dakota, far from the land of valet parking and closer to the land of split firewood. According to Duhamel, the family lived without running water, electricity, or other creature comforts for a long stretch as the property came together. An actor who voluntarily chooses no lights and no faucet? That is either character research or commitment to a lifestyle.
Before anyone slaps a bunker-chic label on it, Duhamel insists it is not pure doomsday prep. He told People he loves making movies and TV, but he had a calling to do things with his hands again. Fix things, make things, practice basic skills most of us outsource to a delivery app. He calls the cabin a respite from relentless tech. Artificial intelligence in particular, he says, scares him. Which explains the chosen antidote: a place where the battery life is measured in split logs and trout, not percentages.
Family is part of the mission statement. Duhamel lives there with his wife Audra Mari and their one-year-old son, Shepherd. His 11-year-old son, Axl, whom he shares with ex-wife Fergie, spends time there too. The plan is simple, he says. Keep everyone warm, make sure there is enough food and water, and make memories that are not controlled by an algorithm. He wants less scrolling, more campfire stories. It is a reality show premise waiting to happen, minus the confessionals and product placement.
The actor is not shy about what he still needs to learn. Hunting and fishing are on the training plan, because survival is not just enthusiasm, it is protein. He also mentions stockpiling a bit more. Read: he will not elbow you for the last can of beans, but he is not leaving everything to chance either. If you are scoring at home, that is one part high-minded back-to-basics philosophy and one part practical shopping list.
Crucially, he pushes back on the idea that this is a panic bunker for the end times. There is no siren sound effect here. It is more about reconnecting with his roots and staying competent at the basics. That said, the 70 percent number is specific enough to feel like a checklist, and specific enough to beg the question: what upgrades get him to 100 percent? More fishing practice, a few extra sacks of flour, or an AI-proof lock on the pantry?
For the receipts crowd, the data points line up. The 70 percent claim and his philosophy come via People, along with the location details and his tech skepticism. The 15-year build timeline and the 40-mile supply run come via Parade. Stack those against the New York Post’s entertainment feed summary of the same remarks, and the picture is consistent. He is building a rustic refuge, not a subterranean lair, and he is not pretending to be Bear Grylls yet.
As celebrity reinventions go, this one trades premieres for propane. The Transformers alum has a plan that is equal parts practical and personal. If the grid holds, the cabin is a family playground. If it does not, it becomes a functioning base camp. Either way, Duhamel gets to fix leaky things, practice his cast, and teach his kids the ancient art of not needing a power outlet for fun. If that is midwestern minimalism with a side of emergency planning, it is also a timely reminder that resilience is a muscle. Some people lift. Some people lift water jugs.
So the next time you see Duhamel on screen, remember there is a version of him off screen, checking the woodpile and eyeing the lake like a grocery aisle. Will he level up to 100 percent survival readiness before winter sets in, or will the fish keep writing the reviews? Stay tuned, because the next update might include a very practical skill montage. And if AI really does get spooky, at least one Hollywood guy already knows where the nearest clean stream is. Well, there you have it. Humanity at its finest, only with more firewood.
Sources: Celebrity Storm and People Magazine, Parade, New York Post
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