Customloper Diaries – Day 7: Bow Before the Blizzard

Weather: Clear start → freezing winds → blizzard
Loot Highlights: Survival Bow, cooking pot, skillet
Mood: Excited → frozen → grateful to still have toes

◀ Customloper Diaries – Day 6: Blizzard Send-Off, Ptarmigan Detour, and the Great Cooking Pot Tragedy |
What is Customloper?

Morning Discoveries: Max’s Last Stand

Today’s goal was simple: reach the Camp Office without becoming a wolf’s breakfast. That’s really the only bar for success these days. On the way, I spotted one of The Long Dark’s most reliable signals that something is worth investigating: birds circling in the sky, waiting patiently for either my demise or someone else’s.

Luck was on my side for once — it wasn’t my turn. At Max’s Last Stand, a corpse lay frozen in place, and right beside it sat the holy grail of early-game weaponry: a Survival Bow. I snatched it up with the speed and enthusiasm of a raccoon finding a half-eaten cheeseburger.

All I needed now were arrows. With them, I could finally graduate from “rock-throwing medieval PE teacher” to “slightly competent hunter.”

Deadfall + Hypothermia = Great Life Choices

Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I decided to swing by the Deadfall area. That’s when my overconfidence caught up with me. The temperature dropped faster than my optimism during an Interloper run, and I was soon staring at the dreaded red text: Hypothermia.

I lit a fire in the nearby stove, boiled some water, and cooked… something. I’d like to say it was a hearty stew, but given my supplies, it was probably just porridge or whatever counted as “hot food” in my pack. Once I had a bit of warmth and hydration, I grabbed a torch from the fire and pressed on toward my main goal.

Lesson learned: Interloper weather waits for no one, especially those who think they can “just pop over” somewhere.

Camp Office and Instant Regret

The rest of the walk to Camp Office was blissfully uneventful — a rare thing in Mystery Lake. Inside, I scored a skillet and cooking pot. Not exactly a rifle or a quiver of arrows, but after yesterday’s cooking pot debacle, I wasn’t about to complain.

Then I made the fatal mistake: I decided to “just explore the area” before settling in. First came the snow. Then came the blizzard. In minutes, visibility dropped to “guess and hope” territory. Navigation became a mix of scent, instinct, and blind luck.

Somehow — and I truly do not know how — I managed to stagger back to the Camp Office without being eaten, freezing to death, or wandering onto thin ice. The blizzard roared outside as I slammed the door shut, my heart still hammering.

Evening Wrap-Up

Back inside, I set about cooking more porridge, boiling as much water as I could, and letting my core temperature crawl back to something survivable. The bow was now mine. The arrows? Still a distant dream. But tomorrow, I’d change that.

Tomorrow’s Goal

Find arrows. Or a rifle. Or, failing that, a pointy stick and a really bad attitude.

Continue the Journey

◀ Customloper Diaries – Day 6: Blizzard Send-Off, Ptarmigan Detour, and the Great Cooking Pot Tragedy
Customloper Diaries – Day 8 ▶

More from The Long Dark

20th Aug 2025 0

Customloper Diaries – Day 6: Blizzard Send-Off, Ptarmigan Detour, and the Great Cooking Pot Tragedy

Weather: Blizzard → calm → chilly dusk
Loot Highlights: Maple syrup, ptarmigan, teas
Mood: Mildly triumphant, then deeply betrayed by my own memory

◀ Customloper Diaries – Day 5: Moose Standoff, Bullet Disappointment, and Frostbite Gordon Ramsay |
What is Customloper?

Mountain Town Farewell Tour

The plan was simple: head for Mystery Lake. Naturally, The Long Dark decided my departure needed to be as unpleasant as possible. I stepped outside, full of optimism and travel plans… straight into a wall of snow. The blizzard hit so hard I half-expected the wind to demand my boarding pass.

Not keen on becoming a frozen cautionary tale before I even left Milton, I retreated back inside. While the storm roared outside, I repaired my climbing socks — because if I’m going to dangle from a rope over a death drop, my feet should at least be comfortable.

When the snowstorm finally lost interest in my destruction, I made a quick supply drop at my blizzard cache in Milton Park: food, flares, and a little hope for future me. If my track record says anything, future me will absolutely need them.

En route, I spotted a couple of ptarmigans. One made a clean getaway, but the second wasn’t so lucky — a quick stun and scoop secured dinner. My frame rate then staged its own protest against survival, solved with the ancient ritual of a one-hour nap and a full restart.

A Quick Rope-Climbing PSA

For anyone following along at home:
1. Over your carry weight? You’re not climbing.
2. Too tired? You won’t make it far before the rope wins.
3. Both? Prepare for a long fall and a high hospital bill (if hospitals still existed).

The climb up was almost suspiciously smooth. No wolves lurking at the bottom, no moose guarding the top. Just crisp air, creaking rope, and the growing certainty that something unpleasant was saving itself for later.

At the top, my guy was winded but not dying — a personal best. It was a short slog to the transition cave, where I took one last look at Mountain Town and stepped into the dark unknown.

Cave Navigation Pro Tip

Pick a wall — left or right — and stick to it the entire way. You’ll either find the exit or discover you’ve been walking in circles for hours. Either way, you’ll feel like a pro.

The cave was mercifully straightforward. I found a pre-built campfire setup and used it as an excuse for a much-needed coffee break. The simple act of brewing coffee pushed my Cooking skill to Level 2: Novice — still a long way from “Chef,” but I’ll take it.

With caffeine restored, I pressed on until daylight spilled through the cave mouth. Welcome to Mystery Lake.

Mystery Lake: The Training Wheels Region (With Wolves)

The Hunt for a Rifle… and a Cooking Pot

The sun was already sliding toward the horizon, so I aimed straight for Trapper’s Cabin. First thing I checked: the rifle rack. Empty. The loot gods remain cruel.

The safe offered a small consolation prize in the form of maple syrup — proof that at least one deity in this frozen world still cares about my morale.

Finally, I harvested the ptarmigan… and immediately remembered that every single one of my cooking pots was still back in Milton. All of them. My dreams of a hearty stew crumbled faster than my willpower in a wolf chase.

Instead, I brewed a round of reishi and rose hip teas, boiled water, and contemplated the life choices that had brought me to “hot leaf juice” as my primary meal. The only upside? I now have a reason to return to Milton, assuming I survive long enough.

Day 6 Summary

Location: Mountain Town → Mystery Lake
Finds: Maple syrup, ptarmigan
Wildlife Watch: Ptarmigan spotted and secured
Conditions: Blizzard start, calm finish
Status: Alive, caffeinated, cookware-less

Continue the Journey

◀ Customloper Diaries – Day 5: Moose Standoff, Bullet Disappointment, and Frostbite Gordon Ramsay
Customloper Diaries – Day 7 ▶

More from The Long Dark

13th Aug 2025 1

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

🧭 Weekly Recap – Survive, Sleep, Repeat

Catch up on the latest survival stories from Survivor Incognito, including permadeath tips, The Long Dark’s Customloper progress, Skyrim Survival struggles, and our chaotic first steps in Grounded. Your weekly roundup of cozy chaos and portable panic is here!

Monday:

💀 How I Handle Permadeath (And Still Sleep at Night)
I laid out my personal rules for permadeath, how I cope when a character dies a stupid death (usually of my own doing), and why it somehow keeps me coming back for more. Survival tip: Sleep helps. So does sarcasm.

Read it here: How I Handle Permadeath (and Still Sleep at Night)

Tuesday

📜 Dark Waters: A Dredge Survival – Day Three
We went further out to sea, saw things we probably shouldn’t have, and learned that fish aren’t the only things lurking in the dark. Spoiler: sanity is overrated.

Read it here: Dark Waters: A Dredge Survival – Day Three

Wednesday

🏔 Customloper – Day Two
Mountain Town continues to be less “cosy alpine retreat” and more “conveniently located death trap.” At least we are still in one piece. Mostly.

Read it here: Customloper Diaries Day Two: Blizzards, Boots, and Baseball Cap Confusion

Thursday

🗡 Skyrim Survival – Day Eight
Frostbite, bandits, and the general annoyance of being overencumbered after picking up one too many cabbages. Classic Skyrim survival energy.

Read it here: Sneak, Snipe, Repeat Day Eight

Friday:

🏡 Grounded – Day One
Honey, I Shrunk the Panic. First day in the backyard brought bugs, dehydration, and a steep learning curve. That aphid had it coming.

Read it here: The Backyard Trials: Grounded Day One – Honey, I Lost Myself in the Backyard

Coming next week:

🧊 More Long Dark, more Dark Waters, more Skyrim, and a deeper dive into the backyard horrors of Grounded. If we’re lucky, there may even be fireflies. If not, probably just death by thirst.

I’ll also hopefully have the Day One Diary for Don’t Starve up. And will explain the the rules for Snowrunner Survival. But these are both hopefully as I’m currently under the weather at the time of this going up. Thank goodness for being able to schedule posts though.

22nd Jun 2025 0

The Cold Chronicles – Day 6 Is Live!

Spoiler: Things didn’t warm up

Day 6 of The Cold Chronicles is now live—and so is my steadily growing sense of frostbitten despair.

Expect:

Another day of snow, moose anxiety, and questionable life choices

A desperate search for supplies that ends… poorly

And a reminder that even the sun looks cold in The Long Dark

 Read the latest entry here: The Cold Chronicles Day Six
❄️ Catch up on previous days via The Cold Chronicles: The Long Dark Hub

11th Jun 2025 0

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 ▶

30th May 2025 1

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.

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