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

Survivors Log: Year End

Status: Still standing
Theme: Survival over spectacle

The year ends the same way most of these runs do: not with a clean win, but with something still breathing.

Some worlds were conquered. Some were abandoned. A few are still waiting patiently, half-built, half-haunting, exactly where I left them.

That’s survival.

What Held

  • The rule sets worked. Fewer restarts. More stories.
  • Lower difficulty didn’t weaken the experience — it strengthened it.
  • Permadeath stayed meaningful without becoming punishment.
  • Writing stayed honest, even when progress slowed.

What Fell Apart (As Intended)

  • Runs that stopped being fun were ended.
  • Ideas that existed only on paper stayed there.
  • Perfection was ignored.

No apologies. Survival means knowing when to walk away.

The Ongoing Truth

This site isn’t about mastery.

It’s about learning a system, bending it slightly, and seeing how long you last.

This site began by pushing back against the idea that easier difficulties don’t count.

It’s evolved into something simpler: difficulty isn’t the point — survival is.

That hasn’t changed.

Looking Forward

  • Fewer series. Better focus.
  • More logs. Less noise.
  • The rules may change.
  • The chaos will stay.

Adaptation is part of survival. Refusal to adapt is how runs end early.

Log Conditions

Log recorded: Final days of the year.
Conditions: Cold outside. Quiet inside.

No deadline pressure. No content calendar panic. Just time enough to take stock before stepping back into whatever comes next.

No Roadmap

There’s no roadmap.

No checklist. No promise that every idea will make it to the end.

That uncertainty is deliberate. Survival doesn’t come with guarantees — just decisions made under pressure.

Rule Reminder

Reminder: These runs aren’t about winning.

They’re about lasting long enough to leave notes behind.

Marks on the map. Lessons learned the hard way. Evidence that someone was here, tried, and didn’t immediately disappear.

A Quiet Thanks

If you’ve stumbled onto this little corner of the internet — intentionally or by accident — thanks for sticking around.

No algorithms to beat. No hype cycle to chase. Just survival logs, written as they happen.

If you’re still reading at this point, you’re already part of the experiment.

End of year status: Alive. Scarred. Still playing.

Next log: When the cold, the dark, or something worse decides to test me again.

Surviving, Not Suffering.

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