Survival Is Earned. Chaos Is Documented.
How do you relax?
By doing the exact opposite of relaxing: playing survival games. For some reason, dodging wolves, zombies, and blizzards calms me down more than meditation apps ever could. If I can unwind while starving in The Long Dark, real life feels positively restful.
(Plenty more questionable relaxation methods at Survivor Incognito.)
Red goes rogue in Smithville Dam, flipping twice while chasing a Watchtower. Frank clears a blocked road, performs a double rescue, secures an engine upgrade, then hauls fuel back to Black River to set up tomorrow’s delivery for “The Essentials.”
📜 Series Hub: SnowRunner Survival: The Permagear Diaries Main Hub
🛠 Rules: SnowRunner Permagear Rules
💡 Why Permagear Works: Read the reasoning behind the challenge
Missed Day Seven? Find it here.
With most of Black River mapped and missions cleared, I decide it’s time to see what Smithville Dam has to offer. Red’s fired up and we set “The Essentials” as the main task — one item in Smithville, the rest in Black River. Easy on paper. Reality had other plans.
After finding the Smithville garage, I immediately hit a blocked road needing Service Parts. Luckily, there’s a depot basically around the corner. I pencil that in for after I grab the nearby Watchtower.
I point Red up the Watchtower track and—whoops—he flips onto his side. Full turtle. There’s only one truck for this kind of drama: Frank.
I transport Frank into Smithville, pick up the Service Parts, clear the roadblock, and roll out to rescue Red. Frank rights him like the dependable legend he is… and Red immediately repays the kindness by rolling over again. Cue rescue mission #2. Frank handles it without breaking a sweat.
With Red back on his wheels (twice), we nab the Watchtower and ping a nearby upgrade: an engine that fits both Red and Scout. Whether it’s actually better is a question for the next garage visit — I’ll compare stats when we’re back under a roof.
While Red takes a breather, Frank gets back to business. He grabs Fuel for “The Essentials,” hauls it over to Black River, and calls it a night — textbook veteran move.
Fuel staged, Frank is ready to finish “The Essentials” delivery tomorrow. Red? He’s on probation until he proves he can stay upright for more than ten minutes.
Want more SnowRunner? Day 9 link coming soon.
Are you holding a grudge? About?
Yes — against every wolf, cougar, and zombie that’s ever ended one of my permadeath runs. Do I forgive? Eventually. Do I forget? Absolutely not. Those pixelated ambushes live rent-free in my head, and probably always will.
(Plenty more grudges, respawns, and survival stories at Survivor Incognito.)
“These are the voyages of one unprepared Commander. Their mission: to break in a second-hand Adder, deliver mail faster than expected, and discover that cargo pickups can crash more than just your ship.”
The ISS Scraprunner got me this far, but when I spotted an Adder for sale, I couldn’t resist. A few credits later and some questionable tinkering produced the ISS Rustbucket, registry RBT-01. Upgrades included a new Frame Shift Drive, thrusters, fuel scoop, more cargo racks, and an extra weapon. The one thing I didn’t touch? Shields. Whether that’s wisdom or hubris, time will tell.
The mission board offered one contract labelled high threat. I decided exploding wasn’t on today’s agenda and picked safer jobs instead:
On the way to Marius Relay, I got a message offering a bonus for quick delivery. Challenge accepted. The new fuel scoop kicked in automatically, topping up my tank as I skimmed stars. Docking complete, data handed over, and I even ranked up to Peddler. Not glamorous, but it’s better than “galactic stowaway.”
Then it hit me—I hadn’t actually collected the weapons before leaving. Back to the station I went, already dreading the 20+ jump route ahead. It would at least be a good test for the Rustbucket’s scoop, or so I told myself.
Ten minutes of fiddling with menus later, I finally thought I’d sorted the cargo pickup. That’s when the game crashed. Server connection lost, mission abandoned. The Rustbucket sat waiting, but my courier career ended in digital silence.
With the Rustbucket ready and the galaxy waiting, I’ll try again. Hopefully the servers stay awake long enough for me to actually deliver cargo. Otherwise, I’ll just become the Milky Way’s most overqualified data courier.
← Day 1 | Day 2 (You Are Here) | Day 3 →
What does your ideal home look like?
Honestly? Somewhere between a safehouse in The Long Dark and a base in Subnautica. Warm, stocked with supplies, maybe a decent view — but without the constant threat of wolves, blizzards, or flooding. Basically, four walls, a roof, and the comforting knowledge that I don’t need to boil my drinking water.
(Plenty more questionable housing choices at Survivor Incognito.)
“The corridor doesn’t need to chase you. It just waits for you to blink.”
Exit 8 is a short horror game where survival means noticing anomalies in a looping subway corridor. Miss one and you reset. I played it on the Steam Deck under my Loop = Life rule: every reset is a death, only one survivor escapes.
First survivor: I spotted the red water in corridor two. I caught the wall-man in corridor four. Each time I turned back, rewarded by the corridor’s shift. By corridor six, I thought I was safe. Then—blink—reset. No attack, no warning. Something small slipped past me, and that survivor was gone.
What I missed: Door 3 handle placement (corridor six) — misaligned compared to earlier loops.
Second survivor: Paranoia sharpened my vision. Lights flickered and died. A man with a briefcase walked far too fast. A poster grew eyes that tracked me. A face stared from the ceiling. I turned back every time, trusted my instincts, and finally—finally—the real exit appeared. One survivor made it out. The corridor kept the rest.
Here’s the full successful run, captured raw on Steam Deck:
Exit 8 isn’t about combat. It’s about attention and paranoia. You can catch the obvious anomalies and still fail to a blink. That’s the horror here: survival through vigilance, failure through doubt.
More eerie one-shot diaries live in the Survivor’s Dread Hub. Next stop: Platform 8 — the train that never ends.
Why do you blog?
Because survival games are too good not to laugh at. I blog to turn my in-game disasters into stories — freezing, starving, or getting mauled by wolves feels a lot better once it’s written down with humour. It’s part therapy, part chaos log, and part proof that thriving is possible (even if my characters keep proving otherwise).
(Plenty more survival chaos turned comedy at Survivor Incognito.)
“It’s not replacing my Switch — just giving the wolves more ways to find me.”
Once upon a time I had a PC. Then I didn’t. Then the Steam Deck came along, and suddenly all those forgotten Steam library games started whispering: “Play us again. This time you won’t rage-quit… probably.”
The first thing I did? Downloaded Viscera Cleanup Detail. Nothing says “welcome back to PC gaming” like mopping up alien goo while questioning your life choices.
After that, I traded my mop for a lorry. Euro Truck Simulator 2 has been my chill-out spot — just me, the open road, and the occasional catastrophic parking attempt. It’s strangely peaceful knowing my cargo can’t eat me (unlike certain survival games).
My first week has basically been a buffet of Steam games:
I’ve been swapping between them like a survivor looting random cupboards: some junk, some gold, all of it entertaining.
Do I have a dock? No. Will I get one? Unsure. For now, handheld works fine — especially since the battery life is short, but honestly, I don’t mind. It’s like an enforced survival timer: finish your mission before the Deck keels over.
Also, shoutout to Prime Gaming for handing me freebies like it’s Christmas every week. It makes my library grow faster than I can play it.
The Steam Deck isn’t stealing my Switch’s crown. My Switch is still home to The Long Dark, Skyrim, and the rest of my survival disasters. But the Deck? It’s a welcome companion — giving me the chance to replay old PC titles, test new survival challenges, and expand the chaos beyond Nintendo’s snowy borders.
Two handhelds. Twice the worlds to survive. Zero guarantees I’ll survive any of them.
Survivor’s Camp Hub |
Elite Dangerous Diary |
SnowRunner Permagear Diaries
“Sometimes the smallest truck has the biggest heart. And sometimes, Red gets new shoes.”
📜 Series Hub: SnowRunner Survival: The Permagear Diaries Main Hub
🛠 Rules: SnowRunner Permagear Rules
💡 Why Permagear Works: Read the reasoning behind the challenge
Missed Day Six? Find it here.
With Pipe Dreams in the rear-view mirror, it’s a well-earned day off for Frank. Today? It’s all about Red. He’s got the boundless energy of a puppy on caffeine and the mud-crawling tenacity of… well, a Scout who’s tired of being second-best.
The target? The wooden bridge task. Along the way, I spot a trailer Red thinks he can handle. He can’t. But you’ve got to admire the ambition.
We reach the bridge and, of course, it needs wooden planks. Frank’s domain. But Red’s not done—he also picks up a SnowRunner throttle upgrade (one for himself and one for Scout). Naturally, Red gets the install. Scout remains benched.
Tempted to spoil Red with more upgrades, I decide to hold off. Then he earns them. Charging through deep mud and water, Red smashes through the terrain to grab another Watchtower like a tiny, determined hero.
Back to the garage we go—Red gets a roof rack for longer hauls and, most importantly, a tyre upgrade. That’s right: better grip, less slipping, and maximum mud-mashing potential. Watch out, Frank.
Now it’s Frank’s turn. Time to deliver those wooden planks and make that bridge a reality. He follows the same route Red scouted earlier, proving why he’s still the heavy-lifting king.
Black River is slowly bending to our will, and tomorrow we head deeper into Michigan—straight into Smithville Dam. There will be mud. There will be breakdowns. But Red’s got new tyres, and morale is high.
Want more SnowRunner? Day 8 link coming soon.
What daily habit do you do that improves your quality of life?
Playing survival games — or at least writing about them. It’s my way of turning stress into stories, chaos into comedy, and reminding myself that if I can laugh at freezing to death in The Long Dark, I can probably handle real life too.
(Plenty more daily doses of survival chaos at Survivor Incognito.)
Survivor Incognito 