🧪 Some helpful blurbs and probably too much sarcasm
Whether you’re a new diver or a returning survivor who still forgets which way the Aurora crashed, this page is your new best friend. Or at least your most reliable one, since bladderfish don’t offer much conversation.
Morning at Paradise Meadows Farm is deceptively calm—blue skies, crisp air, and the kind of silence that makes you think “safe.” Which, as I’ve learned, is usually the universe setting you up for trouble. My goal is simple: get back to Grey Mother’s without freezing, starving, or becoming wildlife entertainment.
Before I even make it to the main road, I spot circling birds. If you’ve read my blog before, you know this usually means a corpse. And corpses mean loot. Sure enough, today’s offering is a prybar lying beside the unlucky owner. I take a respectful moment—then take the prybar. Survival first, sentiment later.
Milton’s Got Loot
With my new tool in hand, I march into Milton like a one-person locksmith service. Every locked trunk and locker I’d previously ignored is now fair game. The results? A couple of sodas, some gloves, and various odds and ends. Not exactly jackpot material, but the sense of clearing my “to-open” list is its own reward.
My real prize comes at Orca Gas Station. Perched on top of a ladder, basking in the weak winter sunlight, is a Storm Lantern. I’d have climbed Mount Timberwolf itself for this. It’s not just light—it’s morale. No more groping around in the dark like an amateur escape artist.
Signs in the Snow
Lantern in my pack, I head toward Milton Park. That’s when I see it—moose rubbings etched into a tree. My mood shifts instantly from “pleasant stroll” to “scan every shadow for large, angry silhouettes.” I haven’t actually seen a moose yet this run, but I’m not eager to test my odds.
Nearby, I gather acorns. They’re a small thing, but they bring me one step closer to Lily’s Pancakes—my long-term culinary goal. The catch? I still need Cooking Level 4. Which means at least seventy cups of tea, or possibly cooking every edible thing on the island. Twice.
Before heading out, I also find a memento cache hint. A promise of future loot, assuming I make it that far. If past runs are anything to go by, the odds are… let’s call them “variable.”
Blizzard Becomes the Boss Fight
By the time I start for my shelter, the snow is falling thicker. A few minutes later, I’m in the middle of a full blizzard. Visibility drops to “couldn’t find your own footprints,” and the wind is howling like it’s trying to blow the entire town off the map. Somewhere out there, I think I hear movement—could be a wolf, could be my imagination. Either way, the door stays closed.
Inside, I get a fire going, boil water, and cook whatever’s left in my pack. The mattress here is old, musty, and about as supportive as a wet paper bag, but compared to freezing to death, it’s luxury. Outside, the storm rages. Inside, I’m dry, warm, and in possession of a prybar, a storm lantern, and a future pancake dream. Could be worse.
A look back at the survival chaos from this week on Survivor Incognito: from haunted seas and freezing wilderness to dino disasters and exploding oaks.
It’s been a week full of questionable decisions, close calls, and new beginnings here at Survivor Incognito. In case you missed any of the madness, here’s your survival cheat sheet!
🌊 Tuesday – Dark Waters: A Dredge Survival – Day Five
The search for one stubborn fish continued, along with a steady descent into darkness and dread.
🐇 Wednesday – Customloper Diaries Day Three
Charcoal maps, rabbit stew, and a sudden storm — because survival in The Long Dark is never boring.
🗺️ Wednesday – Behind the Blog: ARK Map Page Expansion
A behind-the-scenes update! I’m working on expanding the ARK Survival Evolved map page to cover all Switch maps. All the regions, all the doom.
🏹 Thursday – Sneak, Snipe, Repeat: Skyrim Survival – Day Ten
Vampires, arrows, and highly questionable footwear choices. My Argonian had quite the day.
🐜 Friday – The Backyard Trials: Grounded Permadeath – Day Three
The lasers were fixed, the oak tree exploded (as it does), and the backyard remains terrifying.
🦖 Saturday – ARK: Aberration – Day One Diary
Punching trees, hallucinating plants, and being reminded why Aberration is not the friendliest place to spawn.
What’s Next?
More chaos, more permadeath, and maybe even a few victories (no promises). Stay tuned!
My first day in ARK: Aberration on Nintendo Switch. From punching trees to cliff diving for water, join me for a chaotic survival tale featuring hallucinations, heat, and questionable choices.
I decide to spawn at the Portal—the game assures me this is the easiest spot to start, so naturally, I trust it. I materialize in my underwear (as you do) and am immediately told I’m too hot. How? I’m practically naked!
Undeterred, I begin my search for trees to punch and rocks to grab. It sounds simple, but this is ARK. The landscape is full of creatures, including a Tek Stegosaurus!
I want it. I want it badly. But I’m level one, with zero taming ability. So I sigh, and return to foraging.
Tools, Berries, and the Great Stone Hunt
Before long, I’ve got a healthy stash of berries, thatch, and wood. I cobble together some primitive clothing—so long, underwear! Now for stones. The game clearly enjoys messing with me. Stones are everywhere, yet my button presses achieve nothing. After several failed attempts, I finally manage to pick some up. Tools: crafted.
Next problem: water. I’m parched, and the nearest source is… at the bottom of a cliff. What’s a survivor to do? I jump. If I die, hey—at least the Graveyard page gets a funny new entry. Miraculously, I survive.
The Hallucination Plant
Feeling triumphant, I approach a strange plant. Surely nothing bad could happen. The plant proves me wrong. I’m instantly hallucinating, defecating like it’s a competitive sport, and generally regretting my life choices. After about 30 seconds, it stops. Do I consider touching the plant again? Absolutely. Do I? Thankfully, no.
Night Falls, Chaos Rises
Darkness sets in. I light a torch—instant overheating. My options are: see where I’m going and melt, or stumble blindly in comfort.
And then, I become overencumbered. I offload a ton, even dip below my carry limit. Still can’t move. Can crouch, can look around, but walk or jump? Nope. At this point, I call it a day.
Final Thoughts
Not how I imagined my first day in Aberration ending, but I had a blast. Stay tuned—surely it can only get weirder from here.
Quick update! I’m in the process of expanding the ARK Survival Evolved map page to cover all Switch maps — because one deadly dino-infested region just isn’t enough.
🦖 A Little Update from the Blog Frontlines
I’m currently working on expanding the ARK Survival Evolved map page — the goal is to cover all of the maps available on Switch. From the dunes of Scorched Earth to the terrifying depths of Aberration, I want the page to reflect the full dino-infested chaos that’s coming in my permadeath series.
If you’re planning your own survival adventure (or just want to see where I’m likely to meet my end), you can check out the work in progress here: [link to my ARK map page].
⚡ Why This Update?
With my upcoming ARK permadeath series in the works, it felt right to make sure the blog’s map page reflects every hazardous region I’ll be facing. Because why limit myself to one place to get stomped on by dinos?
📌 What’s Next?
I’ll keep updating the page as I go, I will also do another post when it’s finished, and I’ll be sharing more about my planned map order for the series soon. If you’ve got a favorite (or most feared) ARK map, I’m always happy to hear it!
Also expect a new Day One Diary in ARK hopefully sooner than later. I’m paying a visit to Aberration and if I’m honest, genuinely had a lot fun there
Survivor Incognito has crossed 500 views! A huge thank you to everyone who’s joined the portable survival chaos. Here’s to more maps, more diaries, and probably more regrettable decisions.
57 Days. 500 Views. And At Least That Many Bad Spear Throws.
Somehow, this little survival corner of the internet has crossed 500 views—and I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who’s visited, clicked, or accidentally found the blog while looking for something else entirely. (Hey, I’ll take it.)
When I started Survivor Incognito 57 days ago, it was just a space to share:
Survival game stories (usually featuring questionable decisions)
Maps and guides (so you don’t get lost like I do)
And a lot of Switch-based chaos
Fast forward to today, and I’m genuinely thrilled that over 500 views’ worth of folks have joined in. Whether you came for ARK maps, The Long Dark Customloper settings, Skyrim survival mishaps, or just to watch the chaos unfold—thank you.
🚀 What’s Next?
The chaos continues:
The Day One Diaries: ARK Edition is launching soon, filling the weekend gaps with fresh prehistoric panic.
The map pages and hubs will keep growing as I explore (and inevitably die in) new places.
More survival stories, more bad ideas, and probably more pinecone tea. Expect more information soon.
🧭 Thanks for Joining the Journey
I’m just getting started. If you’ve enjoyed the blog so far: ➡ Bookmark the site ➡ Share it with fellow Switch survival fans ➡ Or just stick around for the next 500 views of portable disaster.
Here’s to the next milestone—and to thriving, not just surviving.
Day One Diaries returns with an ARK twist! Each short entry covers the first chaotic 24 hours on every map in ARK: Survival Evolved for the Nintendo Switch. Chaos, dinos, and bad decisions await.
So, People Have Been Clicking the ARK Map Page…
…and that’s either a promising sign or a harbinger of incoming disaster.
Either way, welcome to a brand-new side series here on Survivor Incognito:
> 🎮 Day One Diaries: ARK Edition A bite-sized, chaos-fueled survival journal where I explore the first 24 hours on every ARK map available on the Nintendo Switch.
This series is coming soon and will drop on one of the blog’s quieter days—Mondays, Saturdays, and Sundays—to fill in the gaps with some portable prehistoric panic.
🗺️ What to Expect
Each post will document:
• Where I spawned
• What I crafted (poorly)
• What inevitably killed me
And whether I learned anything (spoiler: probably not)
These aren’t full playthroughs—they’re glorified diary entries of my first day of disaster, all tied together with maps, Switch gameplay quirks, and whatever half-baked strategy I manage to invent before something eats me.
✅ Already Posted
I’ve already covered the following maps in earlier posts:
The Island
Scorched Earth
So I won’t be redoing those. Instead, I’ll link back to those entries when their time comes in the lineup.
🌋 What’s Next?
From here, it’s on to the rest of the maps available on the Nintendo Switch:
• Aberration
• Extinction
• Genesis Part 1
• Genesis Part 2
• Ragnarok (DLC)
Each time I publish a new Day One Diary, I’ll also update the ARK Map Hub with:
• The region map
• Survival notes
• Links to the interactive resource map
• Possibly a eulogy
🧪 A Preview of What You’re In For…
To set the mood, here’s a flawlessly accurate preview of what I expect my time in Aberration to look like—courtesy of Neebs Gaming:
It’s everything ARK represents: snack time, followed by betrayal and screaming.
🎬 Chaos You Can Count On
If something truly unhinged happens during one of these Day One sessions—and let’s be honest, it will—it’ll earn its own spotlight as a Survivor’s Shorts post.
Because some moments of portable disaster deserve a dedicated write-up… especially the ones where I genuinely thought I was safe and then immediately wasn’t.
📅 First Entry Drops Soon
Check back next Saturday for Day One in The Island—the first stop on this tour of Switch-based suffering. Followed by Scorched Earth the next week, and then finally, Aberration.
Expect bioluminescent fungus, regret, and gravity issues. See you there.
I start the day in Grey Mother’s house, do some quick inventory management, and drop 2.5 litres of water—hydration is important, but weight limits are brutal. I also find a third cooking pot beside the fireplace, which I immediately move to the kitchen like the house-proud survivalist I am.
Outside? Blizzard. Naturally.
First stop: the post office. It gives me nothing but disappointment, but the car loot makes up for it—three matches from four vehicles is an impressive haul in a whiteout.
I hop from building to building, clothes getting wetter, warmth draining faster than my optimism. Still, I find a pair of work boots—a welcome upgrade from my starter footwear.
Weather Clears, Map Expands
Eventually, the blizzard dies down. I whip out some charcoal and start sketching like a freezing Bob Ross, mapping out more of Milton.
The improved visibility leads to some solid loot:
Rabbit meat in a freezer
A glorious Mariner’s Pea Coat (cue dramatic coat-swirling montage)
Loot, Syrup & Sadness
In another house, I pick up a can opener and a cozy pair of wool long johns. Back at Grey Mother’s, I drop off my spoils—deer and rabbit meat, sticks, and reclaimed wood. My outdoor meat stash is growing nicely.
With some time left in the day, I loot another house and find maple syrup. I get stupidly excited. Lily’s Pancakes are within reach! Or so I think…
Turns out I need Cooking Level 4 and acorn grounds. Who knew pancakes were an advanced skill? The disappointment is real.
Also found: another chunk of deer meat in the freezer. I’ll take it.
Peak Chaos: The Baseball Cap Incident
I end the day attempting to harvest a baseball cap for cloth. Instead, I drop it. Then I drop it again. Then I drop it somewhere else. Apparently, I’ve been out in the cold too long.
Back at base, I drop the last of my meat stash outside, harvest some clothes, fill up on food and drink, and wrap up Day 2. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll make it to that memento cache.
“Snow, moaning about pack weight, and mapping everything that doesn’t bite. I dodge wolves, hallucinate bears, and risk the ice for some questionable meat. All in a day’s work.”
I start the day in that familiar state of survival-induced amnesia, wondering what I did yesterday and where I put that deer hide I worked so hard for. A quick look at my freshly updated map reveals it’s just a couple of houses down the road. I retrieve it without incident and decide today’s goal is simple: push further down the highway and fill in more of the map. No drama. Just exploration.
Which, in this game, obviously means I’m about to get hit by some drama.
Weather Warnings and Weight Woes
I step outside and immediately regret everything. It’s snowing, visibility is tanking, and I’m carrying 5kg more than I should be. My guy starts wheezing like he’s dragging a lead sled through molasses, and I know I’m going to hear him grumble about it all day.
Still, I press on.
Vehicles, Wolves, and Safe Sketching
I come across an abandoned car. Nothing useful inside, but it counts as shelter, and more importantly, it’s a predator-free place to update the map. I sketch it in while occasionally glancing at the frozen coast where wolves are loitering like bored mall cops. I carry on before they get curious.
Further along, I spot a closed fishing hut—unlooted and unvisited. Jackpot. I raid it for whatever scraps I can find and add it to the map.
Warm Feet, Flashbacks, and Phantom Bears
At the nearby fishing camp, I head into the first cabin and finally find a proper pair of boots. They’re heavier, but warmer, and my frostbitten toes thank me for the upgrade. I repair them, put them on, and get ready to head back out.
The moment I step outside, I freeze. Not because of the cold—but because I think I see a bear. Instant flashback to a past run in this same region, where a moose blindsided me outside the garage like it was collecting a debt.
Turns out this time it’s just a weird shadow and my overactive paranoia. No bear. Crisis imagined.
The rest of the cabins offer very little, but I do manage to:
Score a flashlight (Aurora prep)
Find more revolver rounds (now at 23 bullets)
Still weigh 40kg because I can’t stop picking up every slightly useful item I see
Birdwatching for Survival
As the light fades, I notice birds circling another fishing hut in the distance. That means one of three things: a body, a carcass, or a trap. I roll the dice and head over.
It’s a wolf carcass, right at the edge of some very sketchy-looking ice. I brace myself for a freezing swim but manage to harvest the meat without falling through. Back in the hut, I cook up the wolf and have my first proper meal in a while. Victory tastes like questionable carnivore.
The Long Walk Home (By Torchlight)
Darkness falls fast, and while the fishing hut is cozy enough, I don’t trust it to protect me through the night. I grab a torch from the fire and make the journey back to the fishing camp.
Somehow, no wolves. No bears. No moose. Just the sound of snow crunching underfoot and the occasional “ugh” from my overencumbered survivor. I make it to the cabin, crawl into bed, and let the darkness take me.
Final Thoughts
Day 6 down. I mapped half the coastline, got some new boots, hallucinated a bear, and ate a dead wolf. Still weighed down like a junkyard collector, but alive. That counts.
Today’s mission was simple on paper: lighten my pack, loot like a professional, and avoid becoming a decorative frozen lump in a snowbank. The first step was Quonset Garage inventory triage. I dumped food, meds, spare clothes, and every non-essential item into my storage stash — keeping just enough to keep me alive. Travel light, loot heavy. The survivor’s paradox.
First stop: a nearby building that greeted me with the holy grail of kitchenware — a cooking pot and a skillet. Outstanding finds. Unfortunately, they also weighed roughly the same as my survival hopes, so back to Quonset I trudged, muttering about my endless loop of “find loot, dump loot, repeat.”
With the weight off my shoulders (literally), I decided today was going to be about exploration — specifically, mapping Coastal Highway like a cartographer with too much time on their hands. I hopped between fishing huts, pausing every so often to scribble charcoal marks on my map like an artist who only draws squares. The wind bit at my face, ice groaned under my boots, and somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled just to keep me humble.
Loot highlights of the hut-hopping adventure included: a book on fishing (because nothing says “immersive reading” like reading about fishing while fishing), a hunting knife that immediately earned its keep on a nearby deer carcass, and — drumroll, please — a revolver.
Three bullets. Enough to be dangerous, not enough to be reckless.
Yes, an actual revolver. Even better — it had one round chambered, and earlier in my fishing crawl I’d picked up two loose bullets. That’s three shots. In The Long Dark, that’s not just self-defense; it’s a small-scale munitions miracle. Of course, in my infinite wisdom, I’d left the rest of my ammo back at Quonset, so for now it’s more of a moral support weapon.
While the deer meat cooked in one of the huts, I dashed over to a nearby trailer to drop off the hide and gut for curing. Nothing says “I’ve made it” like casually starting your own rabbit and deer leather collection. Resource management, baby.
By evening, the weather had shifted from “brisk” to “why are you outside, you fool?” A blizzard swept in just as I reached the edge of the lake. I wasn’t about to attempt a hero’s march back to Quonset in that, so I ducked into the nearest house. The place was cold, abandoned, and smelled faintly of damp socks — but it had loot, so it met my standards.
Looted the place, harvested some extra clothes (accidentally shredded a perfectly good hat, but we don’t talk about that), and collapsed into bed before the fatigue meter could nag me into a penalty.
End of Day 5: One revolver, three bullets, a map full of fishing huts, and the creeping suspicion that Coastal Highway might just be my new favorite spot — assuming the wolves don’t hold a vote on the matter.
Survivor Incognito 