Your Cozy Corner of Chaos in The Survival Genre
What’s a topic or issue about which you’ve changed your mind?
Difficulty settings in survival games. I used to think harder always meant better — that you weren’t really playing unless every wolf wanted you for dinner and the weather was trying to kill you. Then I realised fun matters more. Voyageur, Customloper, or even “easy mode” — if I’m laughing while freezing, it’s the right choice.
(Plenty more survival chaos — on every difficulty — at Survivor Incognito.)
Difficulty: Permagear Mode
Today’s mission: finally give Scout some love. He’s been sat in Black River for so long he’s probably forgotten what an engine sounds like. The challenge? Getting both him and Red back to Smithville Dam without using the garage transfer shortcut.
After a bit of head scratching, I come up with a plan: leave Red near the region transition, hop in Scout, drive him over, attach the winch, and haul both back. Amazingly, it works flawlessly. I might have to start giving myself credit for my more unorthodox ideas.
Once back at the garage, Scout gets the works — new engine, differential lock, and a snorkel for good measure. The result? He’s now acting exactly like Red did before his upgrades: bouncing down the road like a caffeinated kangaroo. Progress, I suppose.
I take Scout out to nab the last Watchtower in Smithville Dam. The road is long, occasionally sketchy, but manageable. The turnoff to the tower is the real test — a twisting climb that demands patience and precise wheel placement. After setting waypoints and carefully working my way up, the tower is activated, revealing two upgrade locations.
Scout is closer to one, so we head there first. It’s a raised suspension kit… for something. Sadly, I hit the wrong button and skipped the details. Somewhere out there is a truck that will be very happy. Today, I just don’t know which one.
Red heads for the second upgrade and finds a freeway throttle that works for either him or Scout. Decision pending. He’s handling more smoothly post-upgrades — still bouncy, but in a “playful dog” way rather than “loose shopping trolley” way.
Thinking the raised suspension might be for Frank, I bring him to the garage with high hopes. Sadly, no. My old workhorse has been carrying this whole operation and still can’t wade into deep water without the risk of a very wet breakdown. Tomorrow, Frank. Tomorrow.
Day 11 | Day 13 (Coming Soon)
Your life without a computer: what does it look like?
Like playing The Long Dark in real life — cold, confused, and missing half my inventory. No blog, no games, no chaos recorded. I’d probably have to go full wilderness mode and start journaling with sticks in the snow.
(Luckily, the chaos stays digital — and documented — at Survivor Incognito.)
What skill would you like to learn?
Actual wilderness survival. I spend hours in The Long Dark boiling unsafe water, hunting rabbits, and making fires out of sticks — but in real life, I’d probably struggle to light a campfire without a lighter. Learning the real thing might make my digital disasters even funnier by comparison.
(Plenty more survival skills I still don’t have at Survivor Incognito.)
What details of your life could you pay more attention to?
Probably the small things — like remembering I left coffee on the counter, or that my character in The Long Dark is freezing because I got distracted writing notes. In games and in life, the little details usually decide whether it’s a smooth run or a spectacular disaster.
(Plenty more missed details and memorable disasters at Survivor Incognito.)
What’s your #1 priority tomorrow?
Survive the day without a permadeath moment — in real life or in-game. Whether it’s dodging actual deadlines or digital wolves, my main goal tomorrow is to get through it with enough stories (and caffeine) to write about later.
(Plenty more day-to-day survival priorities at Survivor Incognito.)
In what ways does hard work make you feel fulfilled?
Hard work feels fulfilling when it turns into stories. Whether it’s hours of hauling logs in SnowRunner or barely surviving a week in The Long Dark, the grind pays off when there’s a tale worth telling. Real life or digital, the effort feels lighter once I can laugh about it later.
(Plenty more hard-earned disasters turned stories at Survivor Incognito.)
What’s the trait you value most about yourself?
My sense of humour. It’s what gets me through both real life and permadeath runs. If I can laugh after being flattened by a moose in The Long Dark or rolling my truck in SnowRunner, then I’m doing alright.
(Plenty more laughable disasters turned stories at Survivor Incognito.)
I started by taking Red along a road I hadn’t explored yet, which eventually led me to a quarry. Always good to know where the future cargo headaches will be coming from. I tried following the road deeper in, but it came to a natural stop, so I turned back and tried another route.
This second route led to a flooded stretch of road. The map confirmed it was indeed a road — apparently someone at the Department of Transport here has a sense of humour. I was convinced Red would sink or stall, but to my surprise he waded through like a champ, slow but steady. On the way, I even found a raised suspension upgrade for him. I thought I already had it installed, but hey — spares are spares.
At the end of the flooded road, I had a choice: plunge into the unknown or head for a nearby Watchtower. No prizes for guessing which option I took. The tower revealed an upgrade, but before I could investigate, Red needed a refuel. Thankfully, I’d given him fuel cans in an earlier upgrade, so one quick pit stop later and we were good to go.
The upgrade turned out to be an engageable AWD… for something. I forgot to check which vehicle. Classic me.
Another Watchtower was on the map, so we headed there. This is where Red’s sweet spot revealed itself: Low+. He still bounced, but it was more of a playful hop than a chaotic pogo stick. I reached the tower, got briefly excited when I thought I’d found a second fuel station in Smithville Dam, then realised the map was upside down and it was just the same one I already knew about. Disappointment levels: high.
The tower also revealed another upgrade, perched right at the water’s edge. Given Red’s aquatic performance today, I wasn’t worried. We collected it — raised suspension for the Scout — which might just drag him out of retirement. While I was at it, Red got another refuel before heading back to the garage, where I discovered he’d been on stock suspension all this time. No wonder he’d been so bouncy. Raised suspension went on immediately.
Before calling it a day, I checked out a new task called Boulders. It involves two service spare parts to clear a road — easy enough in theory, but the waterlogged section leading there will be a problem until Frank gets his own raised suspension. I’m adding that one to the to-do list for now.
All in all, Red outdid himself today. From quarries to questionable road conditions, he handled everything without a tow truck rescue. He’s earned a well-deserved rest.
The morning began with me jogging toward the latest house that Trader Rekt wanted looted for supplies. From the outside, it looked quiet — shutters drawn, roof sagging slightly, just another abandoned suburban home. But this is 7 Days to Die, so I knew the interior would be less “suburban charm” and more “screaming corpses.”
Sure enough, as soon as I hit the flag at the back of the property and stepped inside, the soundscape turned into a zombie alarm clock. Two of them barreled toward me, cutting off my escape. I managed to fight my way out, but not without a parting gift: infection. Perfect.
After clearing the stragglers and pocketing the supplies, I searched my pack for antibiotics. Nothing. A return trip to Papaw Residence confirmed the same — unless you count decorative piles of junk and a near-useless jar of murky water. But buried in a chest was salvation: honey. Exactly the right cure for my low-level infection. Bee magic saves the day.
I staggered back to Rekt’s, handed over the supplies, and chose skill books as my reward. Then I spent some coin on more honey, because clearly zombies see me as a chew toy. Another fetch quest? Why not. This one sent me toward what looked like a pop-up medical centre — white tarps, overturned stretchers, and the distinct impression that the last patients didn’t leave voluntarily.
The zombies inside were fewer and slower, which suited my still-throbbing wounds. Looting the shelves, I stumbled on something that felt like Christmas morning: a cooking grill. Finally, the days of choking down charred snake meat are behind me. Now I can prepare food that doesn’t taste like it came out of a campfire accident.
I cleared the building, snagged the supplies, and returned to Rekt. My reward? Charred meat. Honestly, I think the man is trolling me. “Here’s some food, survivor.” Yes, Rekt, I literally just looted the thing that makes your reward obsolete. Thanks for nothing, champ.
Back at Papaw, I started eyeing my supplies. Between yesterday’s scavenging and today’s haul, I realised I was close to crafting a Dew Collector. After a bit more rummaging and resource-gathering, the parts came together. I placed the contraption outside, whispered a hopeful prayer to the condensation gods, and waited.
After five minutes of staring at a metal bucket with mesh, I admitted that Dew Collectors are not exciting to watch in real time. With thirst still an issue, I decided to channel my boredom into base-building. The first layer of the horde base is now fully cobblestone. The second layer is patchwork, half cobble, half wood. The third layer? Still dreams and dust. At least I can say progress is being made, even if it looks more like a construction site than a fortress.
The Dew Collector is great in theory, but water production is glacial. By mid-afternoon I was dehydrated again — stumbling around with blurry vision like I’d been on a pub crawl with the undead. Tomorrow, water is priority number one. Either the trader sells me a stash, or I’m boiling every murky puddle I find.
Still, the looming problem isn’t just thirst. It’s the horde night clock. Day 4 is practically here, and my base is still an empty shell. If I don’t switch gears soon, the zombies will be less “contained threat” and more “unwanted guests knocking down my half-finished walls.” Tomorrow, the hammer and cobblestone get priority — fetch quests can wait.
Day 2 | Day 3 (You Are Here) | Day 4 (Coming Soon)
Survivor Incognito 