The Cold Chronicles Day Ten: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark


The Cold Chronicles – Day 10: Ravine Roulette, Floating Deer, and Finally Mystery Lake

Day 10 in The Long Dark sees me teetering over the Ravine’s abyss, harvesting meat from a deer that’s apparently learned levitation, and finally—finally—reaching Mystery Lake. Bonus: new socks, because morale matters.

Missed the previous day? The Cold Chronicles Day Nine


Leaving the Trailer, Chasing the Horizon

I stepped out of the trailer at the Train Unloading area, the morning air biting in that way The Long Dark seems to enjoy. The plan was simple: follow the train tracks east until the Ravine transition zone, then cross into Mystery Lake. Simple plans in this game never stay simple.

The tracks carried me into the Ravine—beautiful in the kind of way that makes you briefly forget it’s also a death trap. Narrow ledges, collapsed rails, and drops you don’t get back up from. One balancing section across a busted bit of track nearly gave me a heart attack, but I made it across without testing the fall damage mechanics. Small victories.


The Floating Deer Incident

Birds circling in the distance caught my attention—never ignore free protein. I hiked over, expecting a standard carcass. Instead, I found a deer hovering several inches above the snow like it had unlocked some kind of ungulate wizardry.

I harvested the meat quickly, mostly to avoid breaking whatever fragile laws of nature were keeping it afloat. Then, in my post-butcher haze, I realized the deer had been “pointing” toward the right path all along. Thanks, floating friend.


Birch Bark and Bullet Rewards

Further along, a lone backpack waited at the edge of another narrow crossing. Inside: one revolver cartridge. Not much, but when you live in a world where bullets are basically gold, you don’t complain.

I also found an absurd amount of birch bark—seven pieces in total. If this run ends, it will not be because I ran out of tea. Deer hunting? Optional. Birch bark tea? Mandatory.


Mystery Lake at Last

The Ravine eventually spat me out onto the familiar terrain of Mystery Lake. Relief hit harder than the wind. I spotted a trailer and decided it would be my base for the night. Outside, I lit a fire, cooking up the deer meat and a rabbit I’d nabbed earlier. The smell alone was enough to make me feel like I was thriving rather than just surviving.

Inside, I scored a pair of climbing socks—a glorious upgrade from my starting sports socks. Harvested some spare clothes for cloth, then realized I’d left a rabbit steak outside. That’s tomorrow’s wolf bait or breakfast, depending on how fast I am in the morning.

I dropped my deer and rabbit hides, along with the guts, to start curing. Mystery Lake had officially welcomed me—with warmth, food, and better footwear.


Continue the journey: Day 9 | Day 11 – Coming Soon


More from The Long Dark:

The Cold Chronicles Day Nine: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 9: Bears, Bunnies, and Blizzard Dodging

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (still lurking… somewhere)

Day 9 in Coastal Highway brings a near-bear encounter, a rabbit triumph, and a warm trailer evening. Still not at Mystery Lake — but at least I’m well-fed, slightly warmer, and marginally better at sewing socks.

Missed Day 8? Read it here.

Still Not Mystery Lake

I woke to a stillness that felt suspicious. No howling wind, no wolves pacing outside — just quiet. That’s usually when the game decides to spring something on you.

Determined to make a second attempt at reaching Mystery Lake, I packed up and retraced yesterday’s route. The wolf from Day 8 was gone, which should have been a relief, but nature likes balance. In the wolf’s place? A bear. Of course.

It was lumbering near the path, swaying its head like it owned the place — which, to be fair, it did. I froze. When it didn’t spot me, I slowly backed up the slope to my right. This wasn’t cowardice, this was strategy. The slope spat me out at the cabins the bear had been guarding the day before. I swept through them quickly, but they held little worth taking: a few tins, some thread, and an old hoodie with more holes than fabric.

Rabbit > Trailer

Heading further down the trail, I spotted a trailer and made a mental note to check it out. Then I spotted rabbits. And just like that, the trailer was forgotten. I crouched, aimed, and — miracle of miracles — hit one. Bagging small game in this weather felt like winning the survival lottery.

By the time I’d harvested it, the trailer was a few minutes behind me. I considered going back but decided to keep pushing forward. Momentum in The Long Dark is fragile — stop too long, and you’ll talk yourself into a nap instead of a trek.

Shelter from the Storm

Another trailer appeared just as the weather turned. Inside, I found a jerry can. Heavy, useful, but not worth the burden today. I left it behind with a mental bookmark in case my fuel stores ran low later.

Outside, the wind had picked up. Snow swirled, biting into any exposed skin. My pace slowed to a crawl, every step feeling like I was dragging my boots through wet cement. The landscape faded into muted greys — that in-between stage before a blizzard hits where you have just enough time to regret your choices.

I stumbled into the Train Unloading area in Coastal Highway just as the light began to fail. There was no way I was pressing on to Mystery Lake in these conditions unless I wanted to end up as tomorrow’s beachcombing loot.

Good news: there was another trailer here. Better news: it had an intact stove. Even better news: no wolves inside.

Hot Meal and Light Reading

I set up shop outside the trailer. The rabbit carcass became a proper meal — cooked meat, boiling water, even a little stockpile for the morning. As the fire crackled, I pulled out my sewing book and read by the flickering light. Sewing Level 2: achieved. I’m still not turning out runway fashion, but I might be able to patch my socks without making them worse.

With the wind howling outside, the trailer felt almost cosy. I had a belly full of rabbit, a few litres of water cooling beside me, and just enough optimism to think tomorrow might finally be the day I reach Mystery Lake.

Maybe. Unless the bear decides to relocate. Or the weather decides to remind me who’s in charge. So… probably not.

Continue the journey:
Day 8 |
Day 10

The Cold Chronicles Day Eight: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 8: Blizzard Brain, Coffee Dreams, and the Wolf-Bear Gauntlet

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because why not add another predator?)

On Day 8 of my The Long Dark Voyageur playthrough, a blizzard delays my journey to Mystery Lake, a wolf ruins my wardrobe, and a bear guards the one safe house I actually needed.

Missed Day 7? Read it here.

The World Says “No”

I woke up in the garage feeling ready. It was finally time to leave Mountain Town. I had supplies, a rifle, semi-repaired clothes, and a general sense of purpose. I opened the door—and immediately closed it again.

A blizzard. Whiteout conditions. Zero visibility. It sounded like the wind was trying to eat the building.

So instead of forging ahead, I read a sewing book for three hours. Not the action-packed survival story I’d hoped to tell, but hey—knowledge is warmth, and warmth is survival.

Loot Cache and a Coffee Blessing

When the blizzard passed, I made use of the break in weather to drop off excess gear in the garage and go hunting for anything I might’ve missed before I left the region. Turned out to be a smart call.

I found a few food items, a fishing book for future lakeside relaxation, and a couple precious packets of coffee—liquid courage for the road ahead. I also stumbled on a note tucked inside one of the buildings. It mentioned someone heading for Mystery Lake in search of shelter. That was the nudge I needed. If someone else thought it was a good spot to survive, it was good enough for me.

Destination: Mystery Lake. All I had to do was make it there alive.

A Wolf, a Cabin, and a Bear

I started my journey out of Coastal Highway with cautious optimism. I knew the route wouldn’t be easy, but I wasn’t expecting the game to throw both a wolf and a bear at me before I hit the transition zone.

The wolf spotted me and started trailing from behind. I lit my only torch, hoping to ward it off. The flame sputtered and died immediately. Classic.

I sprinted toward a nearby cabin, figuring I could slam the door behind me and catch my breath. That plan fell apart the second I saw the bear casually loitering near the entrance. Just vibing. Just existing. In my exact path.

I did a full 180 and ran like my life depended on it—because it did.

Firearms and Failure

The wolf was still chasing me. Desperate, I turned, pulled out my rifle, aimed, and missed completely. Either the cold got to me or I was too panicked to aim. Probably both.

The wolf lunged and took me down. I fought it off, but not before it shredded one of my best hats and ripped into some of my gear. More repairs. More cloth. More silent rage.

Back to the Garage

Wounded, frustrated, and very much not at Mystery Lake, I limped back to the garage like a defeated scavenger. I spent the rest of the evening repairing what I could, drinking some of that hard-earned coffee, and trying not to think about the bear still blocking the one safe house that could’ve saved me.

On the bright side, I survived. Barely. Day 9 will be my next attempt to leave this place behind—for real this time.

Unless it blizzards again. Or the bear moves in permanently.

Continue the journey:
Day 7 |
Day 9

The Cold Chronicles Day Seven: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 7: Dead Ends, Rifle Finds, and Aurora Skies

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because paranoia keeps you alive)

Day 7 on Coastal Highway brings dead-end roads, beachcombing, Barb’s rifle, and my first aurora. I almost fall through the ice (again), stash gear on Jackrabbit Island, and cook meat like a man possessed. So… a productive day?

Missed Day 6? Read it here.

The Road That Goes Nowhere

Another sunrise, another overambitious plan. Today, I decide I’m going to follow Coastal Highway all the way to its mysterious conclusion. Maybe I’ll find a new transition zone. Maybe I’ll find a wrecked truck with some rifle rounds and a can of dog food. Maybe I’ll find peace.

Spoiler: it’s a rockfall.

But I don’t know that yet. I set out early, dragging my increasingly reluctant survivor across the snow. First stop: the bridge just beyond the garage. It’s held up surprisingly well for the end of civilization. On the far side, I spot a car, and inside it—a note. Someone left a tip about a hidden cache near the garage. Tempting. Very tempting. But I decide to keep pushing forward for now. Eyes on the prize.

The road gets quieter. No wolves, no wind. Just snow crunching underfoot and the occasional groan from my guy who’s still mad about the 40kg backpack I’m making him haul. Eventually, the highway ends not with loot or glory, but a literal wall of boulders. No secret passage, no helpful signage. Just a dead end.

Rifles, Ice, and Intrusive Memories

With the highway goal dashed, I backtrack. But I’m not going to waste the day. I decide to poke around under the bridge I crossed earlier—because that’s a normal survival instinct now. Good thing I do, too.

Tucked under the support beams, half-buried in snow, is Barb’s rifle. No note, no explanation. Just the long-forgotten tool of someone else’s survival story. I take it, check the condition (not bad), and immediately feel 30% more powerful. Rifle > revolver. Every time.

Feeling cocky, I veer off the road and make my way across the ice toward Jackrabbit Island. The ice creaks and pops in that threatening way it always does, but I push forward, ignoring the very obvious signs that I am not welcome here. My screen does that “you’re about to die” wobble. I shuffle back to solid ice just in time. Somehow, I don’t fall in. Survival roulette wins again.

The Jackrabbit Hoard

I reach the house on Jackrabbit Island and decide to use it as a makeshift drop zone. I ditch the revolver, some food, a spare lantern, and whatever else I can live without. The rifle stays with me, obviously.

Loot-wise, Jackrabbit delivers. I find:

  • A skill book for rifles (Barb would be proud)
  • Another lantern (my third—clearly I have a problem)
  • More food, because Coastal Highway is just one big buffet if you know where to look

My inventory’s still ridiculous, but a little lighter. Temporarily.

Seagulls and Sketchy Ice

On the way back, I decide to risk a little beachcombing. I hug the shoreline, watching for anything shiny poking out of the snow—and get rewarded. A couple of arrows just sitting on the ice, half-frozen but perfectly usable. I swipe them up and head for Misanthrope Island.

As I get close, I see birds circling. That means one thing: a carcass. The ice between me and it looks about as stable as my guy’s calorie intake, but I edge closer anyway. It’s a deer, still fresh. I manage to harvest the meat and pull back without falling in. That makes two ice victories today, which honestly feels greedy.

Inside the house on Misanthrope, I find—surprise—more food and clothing. Nothing game-changing, but enough to keep the “loot goblin” part of my brain happy. I stow what I can, then head back toward the garage with a torch in hand in case wolves decide they’re hungry for man meat.

A Spark in the Static

Back at the garage, something’s different. There’s a glow. A hum. The computer whirs to life.

The aurora has arrived.

It’s my first one in this run, and it’s just as eerie as I remember. The air crackles, the sky pulses green, and the electronics—dormant and useless for days—suddenly flicker back to life. It’s beautiful in a “should I be worried?” sort of way.

I don’t have time to dwell on it. I’ve got meat to cook, water to boil, and coffee to brew. Lots of coffee. My survivor’s probably 80% caffeine at this point. I do my best diner cook impression, juggling pots and pans, and by the end of it the place smells like scorched venison and instant espresso. Not the worst way to end a day.

I eat what I can, dump the rest into storage, and crawl into bed. The aurora flickers through the window as I drift off.

Final Thoughts

Day 7 gave me a rifle, some arrows, a hidden cache hint, and a front-row seat to the aurora. Sure, I nearly fell through the ice twice and carried half my body weight in gear the whole way, but it was worth it.

Still alive. Still hoarding. Still hallucinating predators.

Continue the journey:
Day 6 |
Day 8

The Cold Chronicles Day Six: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 6: Cartography, Carcasses, and Cold Feet

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because paranoia keeps you alive)

“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.”

Missed Day 5? Read it here.

Morning Mystery: Where’s My Hide?

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.

Continue the journey:
Day 5 |
Day 7

The Cold Chronicles Day Five: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

Survival Switch-Style

Day 5 – Mapping Coastal Highway, Finding a Revolver, and Prepping for Pleasant Valley

Next: Day 6 | Previous: Day 4

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.

Continue the journey:
◀ Day 4 – Into the Wind and the Wolves
Day 6 – To Pleasant Valley ▶

More from The Long Dark:
🏠 The Long Dark Hub
📘 Survive Your First Week in The Long Dark
📜 Customloper Diaries
⚙ Customloper Settings

The Cold Chronicles Day 4: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 4: Into the Wind and the Wolves – Coastal Highway or Bust

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because I enjoy living dangerously)

Day 3 Recap

Read Day 3 here — yesterday I dodged a moose, found a glorious hatchet in Abandoned Mine No. 3, cooked up some deer and rabbit in Crumbling Highway, and narrowly avoided becoming wolf dinner. Today’s goal: finally reach Coastal Highway and set up a proper base.

Leaving Crumbling Highway

I began the day by tucking my curing hides and guts into a safe indoor corner — because nothing says “responsible adult” like organising future clothing projects before breakfast. Torch lit, I stepped outside, and immediately, the welcoming committee arrived: a wolf trailing me at a polite-but-menacing distance.

It shadowed me for a good minute or two before deciding I wasn’t worth the effort. I imagine it muttered something about “stringy meat” and trotted off into the snow. Either way, my pulse was already higher than my body temperature.

After a short uphill slog, the crumbling asphalt gave way to the open expanse of Coastal Highway. “Civilisation” was in sight — if you consider a scattering of abandoned houses and frozen fishing huts to be civilisation. In The Long Dark, that’s practically a metropolis.

Early Loot and Missed Opportunities

Coastal Highway Map

My first pit stop was a parked car. Inside: a memento hint for loot hidden somewhere in the region. Handy — though I also remembered I’d picked one up back in Desolation Point and promptly never followed it. Future me is going to love that surprise.

Further along, a deer carcass lay half-buried in snow. Tempting, but the blizzard winds convinced me my fingers were better kept intact. Instead, I marked the spot with charcoal — like an explorer, but hungrier.

The Road to Quonset Garage

I worked my way through a cluster of houses, stuffing my pack with food, matches, and clothing. My boots squelched faintly with each step, the wind pushing hard enough to make my footprints vanish behind me.

Halfway to my target, I stumbled upon another deer carcass. I tried to light a fire to harvest it, but the weather refused to cooperate. No fire, no meat — just a reminder that sometimes, The Long Dark makes the rules, and they’re not negotiable.

Then came the wildlife parade: a bear to my left, wolves to my right, and the wind doing its best to push me back to Crumbling Highway like an overprotective parent. My torch flickered in the gale, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure who would win — me, the predators, or the weather.

Quonset Garage: Loot Heaven

When Quonset Garage finally came into view, it was like spotting an oasis in the desert. Inside: shelves groaning with food, a bed, an indoor fire barrel, tools for every occasion — and, inexplicably, two prybars. Why two? No idea. But I took them. When survival hands you a prybar, you don’t ask questions.

After a quick loot run around the parking lot, I found a third prybar in a nearby car. That’s three. I had officially cornered the prybar market. In a barter-based apocalypse, I was now the regional supplier.

Camp Office Sweep

Not content with my haul, I made a detour to the Camp Office. It paid off: another storm lantern, more food than I could carry comfortably, and clothing upgrades that made me feel less like “desperate wanderer” and more like “fashion-conscious hermit.”

By the time I waddled back to Quonset, I was carrying 50kg of loot. Every step felt like hauling a small moose on my back, but the thought of my growing stash kept me going.

End-of-Day Luxury

Back at Quonset, I dumped my loot into organised piles — food here, flares there, fuel in the corner, and coats stacked like I was opening a thrift store. I lit a fire, boiled water, cooked a hot dinner, and settled into bed with the smug satisfaction of someone who knows they’re not going to starve tomorrow.

Plans for Day 5

  • Harvest both deer carcasses with fire in hand
  • Try fishing if the weather plays nice
  • Maybe — just maybe — find a proper weapon so I can stop relying on my stern glare to keep wolves away
Continue the journey:
Previous: Day 3  | 
Next: Day 5

The Cold Chronicles Day 3: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 3: Gut Decisions in Crumbling Highway

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because I enjoy living dangerously)

Day 2 Recap

Read Day 2 here — the short version? I wandered Desolation Point chasing matches, looted the Riken, threw a torch at my first wolf (and it worked!), and finally scored a full box of matches from a glovebox. Tomorrow’s goal: find Coastal Highway. Simple, right?

Morning Plans and Rabbit Runs

They say fortune favours the bold. I say fortune clearly didn’t factor in moose. Today’s plan was simple: head to the mine in Desolation Point and hopefully find something sharp, pointy, or otherwise capable of convincing wildlife to leave me alone.

On the way, I spotted a couple of rabbits. One bolted like I owed it money, but the second caught a well-aimed stone to the noggin. Dinner sorted.

The Bridge Standoff

Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I pressed on — until I heard the low, echoing howl of a wolf somewhere nearby. Torch lit, I marched on with all the fake confidence I could muster. That’s when I saw it: the bridge to the mine… and the moose blocking the way.

He’s Just Standing There Menacingly!

I’ve heard the stories. I’ve seen the clips. One charge and that thing could turn my survival diary into a cautionary tale. I executed a tactical retreat to the church and consoled myself with some warm peaches.

The Safer Detour

That’s when I remembered: there’s another mine that leads to Crumbling Highway — the actual route to Coastal Highway. Longer walk, but blissfully moose-free. That’s a win in my book.

Abandoned Mine No. 3 Map

Inside, things were looking up: a lantern (finally, real light!), more matches, a healthy stack of coal, and best of all — a glorious, rusty but fully functional hatchet. I nearly wept. Finally, a tool I could use on wood, carcasses, or anything foolish enough to cross me.

Into the Crumbling Highway

Crumbling Highway Map

I emerged into Crumbling Highway and looted a nearby car — jackpot, more matches. The game was either feeling generous or setting me up for something terrible.

Birds circled in the distance, and experience told me that meant free meat. I found a deer carcass alongside a rabbit one, made a fire, tossed on some coal, and cooked up my finds. That’s when the wolves arrived.

Torch Trouble

Torch in hand, I hurled it at them like a dramatic warning shot… and they didn’t even flinch. Either these wolves were seasoned veterans, or my throw lacked gravitas. With panic rising, I did what any brave survivor would: sprinted to the nearest car and slammed the door like it was base in a childhood game of tag.

Basement Refuge and Hide Work

From the car, I spotted a cluster of abandoned buildings. Spooky, yes, but one had a basement. I dashed for it, dove inside, and finally found some peace. While holed up, I harvested spare clothes — accidentally shredding the socks I was wearing — and dropped my hides and guts for curing. Fancy, I know.

Tomorrow, the plan is simple: reach Coastal Highway. Hopefully with fewer moose and more matches.

Day 3 Pro Tips (Switch Edition)

  • Moose will ruin your day — avoid if possible
  • Alternate mines can bypass dangerous wildlife
  • Coal is great for long-lasting fires
  • Always keep a basement or vehicle escape route in mind
Continue the journey:
Previous: Day 2  | 
Next: Day 4

The Cold Chronicles Day 2: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 2: Wolves, Mines, and Questionable Life Choices

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because I enjoy living dangerously)

Day 1 Recap

Read Day 1 here if you missed it — the short version? Dropped into Desolation Point with nothing but the clothes on my back, made it to the lighthouse without being eaten, looted like a raccoon in a campsite, and committed my first rabbit-related crimes. Two bunnies down, a stomach full of cooked meat, and a warm(ish) bed to end the day.

Match Quest: The Early Hours

Day 2 began with a clear goal and absolutely no plan: find matches. They’re the sacred spark sticks of survival, and I was running low. The Processing Plant seemed like a solid bet — a big building, lots of corners, and surely a drawer or two with something useful.

Then I opened the lighthouse door and got my first real look at the day’s weather: howling wind and sideways snow. The kind of blizzard that whispers, “You could stay inside.” I, naturally, ignored it.

Loot Tour: Trailers and Processing Plant

First stop: the nearby trailers. They’re warm-up loot spots in more ways than one. I found food and extra clothes — which is always good — but still no matches. My hands were as matchless as my confidence was misplaced.

On to the main event: the Processing Plant. I approached with the cautious optimism of someone opening a mystery box. Inside: more food, more clothes, but no fire-starting salvation. If the apocalypse had a fashion week, I’d be ready to walk the runway, but actual fire? Not today.

Ship of Dreams (and Disappointments)

Not ready to give up, I headed for the Riken — the frozen ship that looks like it’s been halfway through sinking for years. It didn’t have my matches, but it did cough up an insulated flask. Now I could drink warm coffee in style — assuming I ever managed to heat any.

Does This Come In Other Colours?

The Torch Throw Heard ’Round the Lighthouse

Back at the lighthouse, I made a fire with my dwindling supply of matches (eleven left), boiled water, brewed coffee, and sat sipping it like the Arctic’s most underpaid barista. But I needed a bigger plan — Coastal Highway beckoned.

I grabbed my curing rabbit hide and gut (never leave home without them!) and set out. That’s when I realised I had absolutely no idea which direction to go. To make things worse, my 24-hour wolf-free grace period had expired.

One appeared out of the snow. I panicked. I threw my torch at it. By some miracle, it worked — the wolf bolted, and I stood there triumphant, heart pounding like a drum solo.

Match Jackpot

I ducked into a nearby car to regroup, mostly to breathe. Inside the glovebox, the game rewarded me for my bravery (or blind luck): a full box of matches. It felt like winning the lottery — if the lottery was cold, damp, and came with wolves.

I returned to the lighthouse with a new plan, new matches, and a healthy respect for panic-based problem-solving. Tomorrow? I find that highway. Or at least walk in a straight line until it feels like I do.

Day 2 Pro Tips (Switch Edition)

  • Matches are life — always keep a reserve
  • Trailers are great early loot stops
  • Torch-throwing is surprisingly effective on wolves
  • Don’t assume you know where you’re going — check the map
Continue the journey:
Previous: Day 1  | 
Next: Day 3

The Cold Chronicles Day 1: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 1: Welcome to the Chill (Desolation Point)

Difficulty: Voyageur

Optional Features: Cougar enabled (because I enjoy living dangerously)

“I wake up alone, confused, and somehow end up in a whale carcass. Just another day in The Long Dark.”

Spawning into The Long Dark feels like Mother Nature herself just shoved me outside with a cheerful, “Good luck!” There’s no gentle tutorial, no welcome pack, no coat — just cold wind, a couple of sticks, and the creeping realisation that frostbite is now my most pressing life goal to avoid.

This particular run began near the lighthouse in Desolation Point — probably the closest thing this game has to beachfront property, if your idea of a beach holiday involves gale-force winds and the occasional wolf. It was midday, overcast, and just cold enough to make me doubt every decision I’d made leading up to this moment.

Somewhere in the distance, the ocean groaned against the ice, and a few crows circled lazily overhead. I told myself they were here for the whale carcass. I told myself that twice, just to make sure I believed it.

First Rule: Pick Up Everything

See Desolation Point map here – because wandering aimlessly is only fun once.

On Switch, that’s A to interact — and you’ll be pressing it constantly. Sticks? Yes. Reclaimed wood? Yes. Half-frozen soda can? Absolutely mine. My inventory began filling up within minutes, but better to carry too much than freeze wishing I’d grabbed it.

I moved towards the lighthouse in a series of small scavenging detours — each one slightly off-course, like a squirrel preparing for winter if squirrels were freezing, underdressed, and hopelessly lost. The wind bit through my hoodie, and my character’s condition meter reminded me that warmth here is fleeting and entirely negotiable.

Looting the Lighthouse

Inside, the loot gods were moderately kind:

  • Tinned food (salvation in aluminium form)
  • Spare clothing (anything warmer than a hoodie is a win)
  • A can opener (early-game gold — cold beans are tragic enough without mangling the can first)

After layering up (+ button → Inventory → Clothing tab), I felt just warm enough to consider venturing further. My eyes fell on the church across the frozen inlet. Between me and it: snow, rocks, and the vague promise of more loot. Naturally, I went for it.

Along the way, I pocketed every rock I saw — because in this game, you can weaponise geology, and that seemed like an excellent life skill to have.

Rabbit Wrangling 101

It wasn’t long before I spotted movement: rabbits. My new rocks had a purpose.

On Switch:

  • Hold ZR to aim a rock
  • Lead slightly ahead of a running rabbit
  • Release ZR to throw

Stunned isn’t dead — you need to act fast (Hold A) or it will recover and make a mockery of your hunting skills. My first throw missed by what I can only call “a country mile,” but the second was a clean hit. Two rabbits down in total, though not before missing enough shots to start wondering if my character secretly had a lazy eye.

The church, however, was a let-down: no tools, no matches, no hidden stash of snacks. Just me, the wind, and two confused-looking rabbits now stored in my pack. Back to the lighthouse it was.

Nightfall in the Lighthouse

Once back inside, I used the Y radial menu to start a fire near the stove. Reclaimed wood, accelerant, crossed fingers — success. Rabbit meat went on the fire (A to place), water boiled in a recycled can, and torches pulled from the flames became my portable light source for later.

The wind outside howled like it was auditioning for a horror soundtrack, but inside, I was warm, hydrated, and in possession of two fine torches. I ate rabbit for dinner while staring out the lighthouse window at the darkened coastline, wondering how many nights I’d last this time.

I didn’t find matches or a weapon, but I hadn’t frozen, starved, or been eaten — which in The Long Dark is as close to a textbook victory as you can get.

Day 1 Pro Tips (Switch Edition)

  • A: Pick up everything
  • ZR: Aim rocks/weapons
  • Y: Radial menu
  • +: Inventory, clothing, crafting
  • Don’t leave stunned rabbits lying — they recover fast
  • Fire is life — keep matches handy
  • Frozen soda is still drinkable — don’t be picky

Continue the journey:
Day 1 (You Are Here)  | 
Day 2

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