Tag: Early game survival

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #4 – Day 2: Going Out on My Own Terms

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Astrid
Desolation Point felt hostile, and I didn’t have the tools to argue with it.

Today’s plan was simple.

I don’t have much food. I don’t have a way to make arrowheads. I don’t have improvised tools, and there’s no forge access without committing to something dangerous.

Desolation Point has given me what it’s going to give me. Staying longer just felt like waiting to die.

So I decided to take a chance and head for Coastal Highway. If I was going to find anything that could stabilise this run, it would be there.

Before leaving, I made one last ditch attempt to find a bedroll.

No luck.

The Abandoned Mine

I aimed for the Abandoned Mine, grabbing coal along the way. Heavy, but worth it. Coal buys time, and time is everything right now.

The mine itself actually paid out — a prybar. Not a solution, but finally something that felt like progress.

On the way toward Crumbling Highway, a wolf picked me up and followed. It didn’t charge. It didn’t rush.

It just stayed close enough to remind me that mistakes here don’t come with warnings.

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When the Wind Changes

This is where things go south fast.

I spotted a rabbit and felt that familiar pull — hunger making decisions louder than common sense. But the wind was picking up, and I knew what that meant.

I abandoned the idea of food and focused on shelter.

I found a cave just in time. Within minutes of getting inside, a blizzard hit.

No bed. No bedroll. No option to sleep.

I started a fire and waited it out, feeding it carefully and watching the storm rage outside. Every minute reinforced the same lesson:

I need a bedroll. Badly.

Coastal Highway, Briefly Lost

The blizzard eventually passed, and I pushed on into Coastal Highway.

I checked the first car I came across and somehow managed to get turned around almost immediately. The only reason I noticed was because I saw my own footprints in the snow.

I was sure there was an island with a house nearby. I locked onto what I thought was the right direction and tried to cross.

The ice was weak.

I tried again. Same result.

Eventually I gave up and aimed for the garage instead. I found out later that if I’d turned slightly more to the right, I would have spotted the island.

That one stings.

Quonset Garage

By this point, I was already planning my last words.

No food. Water was laughable. Condition dropping.

Then I saw it.

Quonset Garage.

If I could have run, I would have. I got inside, started a fire, and immediately found maple syrup. I drank it without hesitation.

I also found a hat, which meant my head was no longer completely exposed.

An aurora rolled in as well, lighting the place up and making the night feel just a little less hostile.

I considered heading back outside for more wood, but I remembered something important: a moose can spawn outside the garage.

I stayed put.

End of Day 2

Somehow, I made it through another day.

Tomorrow needs to be about food. I don’t know exactly how yet, but I can’t keep surviving on luck and syrup.

This is unfamiliar ground for me on Interloper.

And honestly?

I’m loving it.

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Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 4 – Day 1 |
Unprepared Log 4 – Day 3 & Day 4

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The Long Dark – Stalker Instinct Log #2: The Prepper Cache Jackpot (I’ve Peaked)

Difficulty: Stalker
Optional Features: Cougar enabled, Scurvy enabled, Trader enabled

Today’s goal is straightforward: check the nearby prepper cache.

There are nine prepper caches scattered around Great Bear. Only three are stocked. The other six are abandoned. Unless you’re on Interloper or Misery, in which case the game simply laughs and leaves them all empty.

My reasoning is dangerously optimistic:

  • If I find a stocked cache, I win the lottery.
  • If I find an abandoned one, my odds improve for the next.

Either way, it feels like progress. Which should have been my first warning sign.

The Torchless Mistake

I head out without a torch.

Yesterday, the wolves kept their distance. So I make the bold assumption they’ll continue to be polite today.

They do not.

A wolf appears, and I immediately realise I’ve left my best “please don’t eat me” tool back at the Camp Office.

No torch. No flare. Just a lantern.

I’ve never used a lantern to stop a wolf before, but today is the day we test that theory.

It works. The wolf backs off.

I don’t want to rely on it too much though. Lantern fuel is going to be a problem until I can fish. This is an emergency option, not a long-term solution.

Rope Climb and the Cache Reveal

I climb the rope and find the cache.

It’s stocked.

Not barely stocked. Properly stocked.

Inside I find:

  • Warm clothing
  • Food and water
  • Medical supplies
  • A revolver
  • Enough materials to craft a bow and arrows

I immediately go into full hoarder mode. I must carry everything. Logic takes a short break.

Regaining Some Self-Control

After a few minutes of loot-induced madness, I calm down.

This cache isn’t going anywhere. I know where it is. I know how to reach it. That alone changes the tone of this run.

I take what actually makes sense:

  • A couple of snares
  • The revolver

Then I head out to scout the area.

The Cave and the Corpse

Nearby, I find a cave. Birds are circling, which is never subtle.

There’s a corpse inside. No useful loot, but the cave itself matters. If cabin fever becomes an issue later, this place could save me.

Getting Lost on Purpose (Sort Of)

I’m convinced there’s another way down from up here besides the rope.

I can’t find it.

Rather than keep wandering until something eats me, I start placing markers and testing them. If a blizzard ever hits while I’m up here, at least I’ll have some guidance.

It’s dull work, but it’s future-proofing.

Skill Books and Bow Work

I stay outside long enough to finish reading my rifle mastery book. I don’t know if I’ll ever use a rifle, but I prefer having options.

Back at the cache, I work on my bow until it gets dark. I’m not entirely sure how I keep working once it’s already dark, but I’m not questioning it.

Then I head to bed.

End of Day 2

I found a stocked prepper cache on Day 2.

That’s the peak.

From here on out, it’s just The Long Dark correcting the balance.

I honestly have no idea what tomorrow’s plan is. Everything after this feels like borrowed time.

Video

Day 2 Notes

  • Prepper caches are pure luck, not planning.
  • Lanterns can deter wolves, but fuel matters.
  • Marking routes is boring until it saves your life.
  • Caves are valuable even without loot.
  • Hoarding feels good right up until you try to walk.
Continue the journey:
Log #1 | Log #2 (You are here) | Log #3
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The Long Dark – Stalker Instinct Log #1: Mystery Lake Was the Sensible Choice

Difficulty: Stalker
Optional Features: Cougar enabled, Scurvy enabled, Trader enabled

Before I even began, I had three choices to make: do I want the Cougar, Scurvy, and Trader to be active?

Because I apparently enjoy making poor decisions, the answer was yes to all three.

For my first proper attempt at Stalker, I chose Mystery Lake for one simple reason: I wanted to be eased in. If the game was going to punish me, I wanted it to do so gradually.

Spawn Point: Cave Near the Fishing Huts

I started my journey in a cave near the edge of the fishing huts. One hut was close enough to feel safe, so I checked that first. The others were further out across the ice, and I could already see wolves roaming.

Not ideal. Not surprising. Very on-brand for Stalker.

Rather than pushing my luck early, I headed straight for the Camp Office. If things went wrong, at least I’d be indoors when it happened.

For context — and future mistakes —

Mystery Lake maps and region notes.

Camp Office Loot and a Small Win

The Camp Office treated me better than expected. I found:

  • A lantern
  • A skillet

That was enough to get something going. I lit a fire, warmed up, and decided to head back out with torches. The plan was simple: torches to deter wolves, quick trips to the huts, no unnecessary risks.

Fishing Huts: Where the Game Lied to Me

In my head, wolves were going to be circling me the entire time. I expected growling, posturing, and at least one moment of panic on the ice.

None of that happened.

Not a single wolf came near me as I moved from hut to hut. I could see them in the distance, but they kept their space. I did spot a bear, which immediately raised my stress levels, but even that had its back turned and showed no interest.

I looted what I could, kept the torches lit, and tried not to trust the calm.

Food Reality Check

After clearing the huts, I returned to the Camp Office. Food was becoming an issue, but I knew there were potatoes inside. It was Day 1, and I wasn’t going to starve overnight.

Another look around paid off when I found a cooking pot. For a brief moment, I imagined porridge and proper meals.

That optimism didn’t last.

My cooking skill was too low to do anything interesting. No porridge. No comfort food. Just the basics.

Dinner ended up being:

  • Boiled water
  • A couple of potatoes
  • Some crackers

Not exciting, but it kept me alive, which is the only metric that matters in Stalker.

End of Day 1

I ended the first day inside the Camp Office, hydrated, minimally fed, and strangely untouched.

The wolves were present but passive. The bear made an appearance and then left. Nothing attacked me. Nothing forced a bad decision.

That kind of restraint never lasts.

For Day 2, I’m undecided:

  • Head to Trapper’s Cabin
  • Or go somewhere else entirely

Either way, this calm feels temporary.

Video

Day 1 Notes

  • Mystery Lake is still the safest place to learn Stalker.
  • Torches work, even when you don’t end up needing them.
  • A bear ignoring you is luck, not safety.
  • Cooking pots are exciting until skill levels intervene.
  • Potatoes and crackers count as a meal.
Continue the journey:
Log #1 (You Are Here) | Log #2
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The Backyard Trials: Grounded Permadeath – Day Two

Day Two of my Grounded Permadeath run. Panic still lingering, but I’ve secured food, water, armor, and narrowly avoided becoming ant food. Progress!

Missed day one and want to find out how this journey started? Find it here: The Backyard Trials Day One

Thirst, Hunger, and the Panic Begins Anew

I wake up to a familiar feeling: low-level dread. I’m hungry. I’m thirsty. I have very little idea what I’m doing. Survival in the backyard is a constant balancing act between problem-solving and quiet panic.

Thankfully, some form of insect-based miracle has occurred overnight. There’s an aphid corpse conveniently placed right next to my lean-to. Did it explode? Was it eaten and discarded? I don’t know — but in my current state, it’s dinner.

The thirst problem is less cooperative. Another ill-advised sip of dirty water reminds me that my standards need to rise if I want to avoid adding “constant food poisoning” to my growing list of concerns.

Salvation in the Form of Dew

In the midst of my slight panic spiral, I spot a glimmer of hope: dew, perched high on a blade of grass. After some awkward jumping that likely looked ridiculous to any nearby insects, I manage to secure a drop of clean water. The panic dial lowers slightly… but only slightly. I still can’t carry any extra, so the problem is only delayed, not solved.

Workbench, Roasting Spit, and Progress (Sort Of)

Back at the science station, I start trying to piece my situation together. I craft a Workbench, which unlocks more options, including a Roasting Spit. Finally, I can cook meat instead of risking stomach-churning raw snacks. My diet now consists of roasted aphid and weevil. It’s not exactly fine dining, but I’m not dead — which is honestly my only metric of success right now.

Clover Armor: The Fashion of Fear

With food and water temporarily under control, my brain returns to its default state: “What’s going to kill me next?” The answer, probably, is “everything.” So I decide to take the edge off by crafting Clover Armor — a full set covering my head, chest, and legs.

It won’t stop anything truly dangerous, but it’s comforting. Like wearing a raincoat in a hurricane. It technically helps, but you wouldn’t want to test it.

Early Combat Lessons (And More Panic)

Armed with a spear and new-found confidence (read: mild overconfidence), I pick a fight with an ant. It goes well… until his buddy shows up. The fight escalates, I take some hits, apply a bandage, and add “don’t poke ants unless absolutely necessary” to my mental rulebook.

Later, while trying to understand how my hotbar works, I accidentally hurl my spear at a completely innocent patch of grass. At least I didn’t spear myself. Small victories.

The Baseball, Tactical Retreats, and Nightfall

Before dark, I scout a little further and discover a giant baseball, which offers a perfect vantage point for surveying my surroundings. Unfortunately, I also nearly stumble into a fight with a soldier ant and two backup dancers. A brief surge of panic kicks in again, but I manage a tactical retreat before things get ugly.

Nighttime approaches. I may have a torch now, but I’m not insane enough to go wandering in the dark just yet. Panic management remains the most critical skill in my early days.

Wrapping Up Day Two

Day Two ends with clean water, cooked food, basic armor, and a strong undercurrent of low-level panic. Progress has been made, mistakes have been narrowly avoided, and tomorrow I’ll venture even further — anxiety levels permitting.

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