I thought I was alone on Coastal Highway. Then I saw antlers. This is the story of how a moose turned a quiet walk into an Olympic-level panic sprint.
—
It was just another day in The Long Dark.
I was walking the road near Quonset Garage on Coastal Highway. Light fading, stomach grumbling, the usual post-loot shuffle home. Everything felt quiet. Calm. Deceptively safe.
Then I saw it.
Not a charging bear. Not a distant wolf. No, this was worse.
A moose.
It wasn’t running. It wasn’t stomping. It was just… standing there. Behind a tree.
Image taken from The Long Dark Wiki. Mainly because I didn’t think to take a screenshot or a video when it happened
—
Staring at me like it had been waiting for its cue in a survival horror play.
And then—it took the stance. The head lowered. The hooves shifted. You know the one. The “say the word and I’ll flatten you” stance.
That was my sign to go.
I turned and ran for the nearest building like I’d just insulted its family. My survival instincts kicked in, my inventory was forgotten, and my dignity stayed behind by the tree.
—
Final Thoughts
The Long Dark Wiki says that moose in particular has a 5% chance to spawn for 48 hours. This one spawned right behind a tree and in front of my will to live.
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Got a favourite chaotic moment?
Let me know in the comments or tag me on social—I’m always looking for new disasters to celebrate. And if you enjoy these shorts, consider sharing the page with a fellow survivor. Because nothing says “friendship” like a moose silently judging you from behind a tree.
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If you enjoyed this story, please check out my other: Survivor’s Shorts
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.
Day 1 of a Customloper survival test in The Long Dark. Spawned in Coastal Highway. Made gloves out of scraps, got hit with a blizzard, and somehow didn’t freeze to death.
I put in the Customloper settings, picked my character, set the spawn to random, and named the file Day One. I spawn in Coastal Highway – specifically right next to the path leading to The Ravine.
I think about going that way for all of five seconds, I choose life instead and head toward the Train Unloading Trailer I know is nearby
Spawned in cold, sprinting for shelter. Train Unloading it is
—
Inside I grab what I can, including a second pair of socks. Then hit the tunnel corpse – and score a hatchet.
My loadout after looting the trailer. No gloves, great.
—
From there, I billy goat my way down a nearby cliff, grabbing sticks while the temperature plummets.
Alternative route, gravity assisted travel
—
I find another trailer. It’s warmer, but still not warm enough. And I didn’t spawn with gloves, so my hands are freezing.
I cut across the road, stop at a car, then head toward the Fishing Camp.
Note: I had to double-check the name using my own Map Hub — I knew where I was, just couldn’t remember what it was called. Proof the hub’s not just for readers.
I loot what I can — some food, but not enough to carry me far. In the first house, I grab cloth and craft handwraps. It helps, barely. In the second, third and fourth houses, I scrape together enough to make a makeshift hat.
Then I step outside.
I step outside. Weather steps on me
—
I retreat and sleep for three hours to warm up. When I wake, the blizzard has cleared. I push toward Jackrabbit Island and manage to snag three rabbits — finally, a win.
Inside the house, I raid the fridge and score water. I harvest the rabbits for meat as the sun drops.
Then I head outside, light a fire on the first try, and cook everything. I even remember I have herbal tea, brew it, and drink it to recover some condition — which was down to about 50%.
Back inside, I scavenge the place and find a pair of wool mittens, climbing socks, and a pair of boots.
I go to bed warm, full, and genuinely surprised I made it through Day One.
—
Next week, I start my actual Customloper run. I start in a new area, and will attempt to explore the whole island before I succumb to The Long Dark.
The Day One Diary of Customloper is coming—and no, I didn’t freeze to death immediately. Spawned in with Interloper-level weather and a backpack full of questionable decisions. There were snacks. There were was lots of snow. There was looting in the dark like a confused burglar. Find out what happens tomorrow at 1pm GMT.
This week at Survivor Incognito: dino disasters, cosmic chaos, a return to Customloper, and two new Survivor’s Shorts. Here’s the full lineup of what’s dropping and when.
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Monday – A Double Hit to Start the Week
Day One Diary: No Man’s Sky Cold planet, no scanner, and a plant that bit me. Welcome to Zuwan 58/E6.
Survivor’s Short: The Doedicurus Incident One spear. One armadillo. Zero survivors. The best (worst?) five seconds of ARK you’ll ever read.
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Wednesday – Into the Cold
Day One Diary: The Long Dark – Customloper Coastal Highway just got colder. My custom difficulty is set to “help is a myth” — and this diary is where it begins. This is a taster of what is to come next week
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Thursday – Skyrim Survives Another Day
Skyrim Survival – Day Five My Argonian’s back, colder than ever, and probably regretting their life choices again. Expect sneaking, sniping, and the occasional panic shout.
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Friday – Frostbite & Fur
The Long Dark – New Entry in A Voyageur’s Tale The Cold Chronicles continue with more frostbite, slightly less dignity, and whatever’s left in my food stash.
Survivor’s Short: The Moose Encounter He saw me. I saw him. Only one of us had antlers — and it wasn’t me.
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Plus: This Site Just Got A Bit Update
All entries for The Long Dark, Skyrim, and Day One Diaries have been turned into full posts (not pages!) so they’re easier to find, share, and follow.
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Thanks for Reading – And Surviving
Bookmark the blog, subscribe if you haven’t, and remember: in survival gaming, it’s not about thriving — it’s about laughing while everything falls apart.
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.
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
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.
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.
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
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
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.
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
I came to in the middle of the desert wearing absolutely nothing except a sense of misplaced confidence. Sun blazing, heat rising, and the HUD silently judging me. First instinct? Punch a bush. Gathered some fiber, thatch, and self-respect.
Leveled up once from raw enthusiasm alone. Put that point into Health, because even I could tell I was about five bad decisions away from dying.
—
The Accidental Shirt Empire
Decided to craft some clothes before the sun roasted me alive. Opened the crafting menu, tried to make one shirt—accidentally made five.
Now accepting names for my pop-up desert boutique. Eventually got it together and added some pants. No shoes though. Those required hide. Hide required confrontation.
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Tooling Up & Feeling Bold
Made a pickaxe and found a water vein. Hydration status: temporarily acceptable.
Crafted a hatchet. Then a spear. Then a sun hat, because I like my survivalism with a side of flair. I had gear, water, and the kind of reckless optimism that leads straight to the respawn screen.
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The Enemy of My Confidence
I needed hide. So I looked around:
Ankylosaurus: Too many spikes. Hard pass.
NOPE!
Doedicurus: Round, slow-looking, vaguely adorable. I could take it.
I could not.
The second it noticed me, it went full Beyblade and chased me halfway across the dunes. I survived, barely, and took that as a sign to regroup. Obviously, I didn’t listen.
—
The Fatal Spear Throw
Bandaged my pride, gathered more supplies, and returned to the scene of my failure with renewed stupidity.
Lined up the doedicurus in my sights. Threw the spear.
Missed completely.
It charged. I died.
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Summary of Bad Decisions
Crafted 5 shirts by accident: Unplanned fashion mogul Picked a fight with a doedicurus: Lost. Twice. Made tools and a spear: Forgot to aim before throwing Died as tradition dictates
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Final Thoughts
ARK on Easy Mode is still full of bad decisions if you’re making them fast enough.
Doedicurus: not food, not friendly, not forgettable.
Respawning is a learning experience. Eventually.
Next time, I’ll pick a different animal to harass. Probably regret that too.
Survivor Incognito 