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 One-Shot Wonder: Bear Meets Panic Rifle

On Coastal Highway in The Long Dark, a bear ambushed me at dusk. I panicked, fired, and somehow dropped it with a single shot. I’m still processing what happened—and how I’m alive.

It was getting dark on Coastal Highway. I was returning to Quonset Garage after a day of looting, freezing, and thinking about food I didn’t have.

And then I heard it.

That guttural growl—the kind that makes your blood freeze before the weather does.

I turned.
Bear. Charging.

My brain hit full panic mode. I fumbled for my rifle, jammed it into position, aimed down the sights, and braced for impact.

I fired.

I adjusted the brightness of the video so you can see what happens.

The Original

This is the original version. I was playing handheld on the Switch at the time

One shot. The bear dropped.

I stood there in stunned silence, half-expecting it to get back up and laugh. But it didn’t. It was down. Permanently.

Was it a crit? A miracle? Game physics?
No idea. But for that one shining second, I wasn’t just surviving—
I was the apex predator.

Final Thoughts

In a game known for handing out slow, painful deaths, I got a split-second win.
And honestly? I’m not sure it wasn’t a fluke.
But I’ll take it.

If you enjoyed this one, please check out my other Survivor’s Shorts

The Moose Behind the Tree – A 5% Spawn, 100% Panic Sprint

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.

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.

If you enjoyed this story, please check out my other: Survivor’s Shorts

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

Day 1 Diary – The Long Dark Customloper – Cold Coast, Hard Start

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.

Map of Coastal Highway

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.

If you want to know more about Customloper, why not check out The Long Dark Customloper Settings: Easier Interloper Survival Mode

If you enjoyed this entry, why not check out my other Day One Diaries

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

Here’s What You Missed This Week – Permadeath and Prybars

Survival, strategy, and a fair bit of falling into things.

It’s been another chaotic but oddly satisfying week at Survivor Incognito, where the snow is endless, the bandits are clingy, and my survival strategy often involves “run first, question everything later.” Here’s what dropped this week:

Sneak, Snipe, Repeat: Day 3

A High Elf ambush kicked off the day, because Skyrim doesn’t believe in subtlety. Our Dragonborn-in-training wandered into Whiterun with no torch, accidentally handed in a quest they’d already completed, became Thane, fought a dragon, and looted half the city’s cheese stockpile—all without a working flashlight.
Read the chaos here:
Day 3 – Whiterun Welcomes Me

The Cold Chronicles – Day 4

Our Voyageur finally escaped Crumbling Highway, stepping into Coastal Highway only to meet gale-force winds, a casual bear, and wolves with a personal vendetta. Despite blizzards and a questionable cliff descent, they found shelter, loot, and just so many prybars.
Read it here:
Day 4 – A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

New Pages Launched

The Graveyard

Where runs go when they’ve gone… poorly. From unexpected wolf attacks to permadeath pratfalls, this page memorializes your greatest “oops.”
Visit The Graveyard

Rules of Survival

A breakdown of how I play survival games on the blog: permadeath is non-negotiable, no cheats, no take-backs, no mercy. Also includes series-specific rules for The Long Dark, Skyrim, and No Man’s Sky.
Read the Rules

Customloper Settings

Tired of Interloper crushing your soul but still want a challenge? Enter: Customloper—Interloper weather with settings that don’t make you cry into your bedroll. Full settings list, and a FAQ included.
See the Settings

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑