I was planning to post a brand-new Day One Diary for ARK today… but life, as it tends to do, had other plans. Between work, chores, and trying not to get stomped myself, there just wasn’t time to spawn, craft, and get eaten properly.
So instead, here’s a look back at one of my previous ARK Day One disasters — complete with early optimism and inevitable doom, along with some others:
👉 [Day One Diaries | Survival Game Playthroughs & First-Day Survival Challenges]
New entries are still coming soon. SnowRunner kicks off on Friday, and more chaos is always just around the corner.
Eulogy: The Backyard Wins This Round!
She never asked for this.
She never wanted to be shrunk down and tossed into a backyard where everything — ants, mites, bees, spiders, the wind — wanted her dead.
She just wanted to craft a lean-to, maybe roast some gnat meat, and figure out why the grass was taller than a skyscraper.
But she was brave.
She fixed lasers. She investigated an oak tree that promptly exploded.
She learned to fear the sounds of tiny feet in the grass.
She fought valiantly with spears, fists, and panic as her most reliable tools.
In the end, it was the bugs that got her. As they always do.
Not the spiders, no — that would’ve at least made sense.
No, her end came via something smaller. Meaner. Possibly several somethings.
The logs are unclear. The screaming was not.
She will be remembered for her resilience, her questionable armor choices, and her ability to stay alive just long enough for things to get interesting.
Rest in pieces, Backyard Explorer.
You were small, but your chaos was mighty.
Read their tale here: The Backyard Trials: Grounded Permadeath
The Backyard Trials: Grounded Permadeath – Day Four
Day 4 of my Grounded permadeath run ends in tangled webs and tragedy. I go on a grub hunt, dodge danger, and fall victim to a tag team of Crab Weavers in a very sticky situation.
Missed the previous day? Find it here:The Backyard Trials: Grounded Permadeath – Day Three
🌅 Morning Optimism and Muddy Water
I wake up ready to dig. A shovel in hand and dreams of juicy grubs in my head, I set off convinced today will be the day I solve my hydration issues.
The game disagrees.
Despite digging around like a hyperactive mole, I can’t find a single grub. My thirst level’s tanking faster than my optimism, so I do the one thing I swore I’d never do again—drink the dirty water.
Let’s just say it quenched the thirst, but also quenched a small part of my soul.
🔎 Exploration… and a Red Flag
With no grubs in sight, I pivot to exploration. Maybe I’ll find a new science pod. Maybe I’ll find some dew. Maybe I’ll finally catch a break.
I find another science pod—score!
I also find a Crab Weaver—less of a score.
I do a tactical retreat (read: panic sprint) and live to fight another moment. Once the coast seems clear, I try heading back in.
🕸️ The End Comes in Eight-Legged Waves
What I don’t realise is that a Crab Weaver Jr. is nearby. It spots me. It’s faster than me. And worse, my weapons might as well be cocktail sticks.
I attempt a second retreat.
That’s when Crab Weaver Sr. shows up again. I get stuck in a web.
I’d love to say I fought bravely. I didn’t. I flailed, screamed, and got tag-teamed into the afterlife by two angry arachnids.
🪦 Farewell to the Backyard For Now
Run ends: Day 4
Cause of death: Crab Weaver Jr. and Sr. – A United Front
Final thoughts: If you’re thirsty, drink dew. If you can’t find dew… maybe just accept your fate.
Sneak, Snipe, Repeat: Skyrim Survival Day Eleven
Loki the MVP, and Ustengrav Gets Sneaky
Day 11 of my Skyrim Survival Mode playthrough on Nintendo Switch. I cure my vampire disease, nearly lose the run to disconnected controls, and finally become the stealth archer I keep pretending to be.
Missed the previous day? Find it here: Skyrim Survival Day Ten
Cured, Not Cursed
After some internal debate, I decided to cure the disease before I fully turned vampire. I’m not ruling out the vampire lifestyle forever, but for now I prefer my Argonian warm-blooded and not photophobic. Maybe next time.
Ustengrav Ambush: Hooves First, Questions Later
Outside Ustengrav, I’m ambushed by three bandits and a necromancer. Could’ve been the end of the run—especially when my Joy-Cons disconnected mid-fight. Nothing like fumbling for a controller while enemies swing for your skull.
Luckily, Loki stepped in. I dismounted and used hit-and-run tactics while my horse quite literally stomped the threat out of them. Between the panic, arrows, and hooves, we made it through.
Depths of Ustengrav: Stealth Archer, Finally
Inside, I finally commit to the stealth archer lifestyle I keep pretending I’ve mastered. Draugr fall one by one to well-placed arrows, never knowing what hit them. This is the dream.
For a brief moment, I wonder if there’s a way to bring Loki into dungeons. Probably not. Still, the mental image of a stealth horse sneaking past Draugr is one I’ll cherish.
The Horn Is… Missing?
Reach the end of Ustengrav, expecting to claim the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Instead, I find a note. Great. Someone’s stolen it and wants a private meeting at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood. Because that’s not suspicious at all.
Back to Morthal
With the dungeon cleared and no horn in sight, I head back to the inn in Morthal to thaw out and call it a day. I’ll deal with mystery notes and secret meetings tomorrow. For now, I’ve earned some warm food and sleep.
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?)
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.
Day 7 |
Day 9
More from The Long Dark
- The Long Dark Hub — all playthroughs, guides, and maps.
- Survive Your First Week in The Long Dark — beginner-friendly, Switch-tested tips.
- Customloper Diaries — my easier-Interloper series.
- Customloper Settings — my “Easier Interloper” setup.
Sneak, Snipe, Repeat: Skyrim Survival Day Ten
Vampires, Arrows, and Question Footwear
Day 10 of my Skyrim Survival playthrough on Nintendo Switch. I finally track down the Master Vampire, get cursed, loot a backpack, and question one vampire’s strange obsession with boots.
Missed the previous entry? Find it here: Skyrim Survival Day Nine
Cave of Arrows and Errors
I picked up where I left off—tracking down the Master Vampire who’d been making Morthal miserable. The cave wasn’t far, but it was full of surprises. The first being how embarrassingly bad I am with a bow.
Two frostbite spiders greeted me, and I introduced them to about fifteen arrows—most of which missed. Somehow they didn’t notice. Either I’m too stealthy or they were too busy being creepy in the dark.
Thralls, Vampires, and the Great Boot Hoard
Things picked up after that. I managed to sneak around and take out two thralls without them raising the alarm. They dropped quietly, like they knew it was their time.
Then I stumbled across a vampire sleeping off the night shift. One solid sneak attack and it was nap time forever. They didn’t have much, but their bookshelf was packed with boots. Not books. Boots. One of them boosted my sneaking, so I took the hint and left the rest.
Alva, Infection, and Indecision
Further in, Alva reappeared—clearly still in a mood after her last defeat. A thrall decided to help me by attacking her, which made things easier. But before I could finish the job, she tagged me with Sanguinare Vampiris. So now I’m infected. Not thrilled, but not rushing to cure it either. Still weighing the pros and cons of turning undead.
Mission Complete, Bonus Backpack Secured
Eventually I found and eliminated the Master Vampire. No dramatic boss fight—just a clean, quiet finish. I headed back to Morthal, where the Jarl thanked me and promised the Thane title if I helped the locals.
While doing some casual burglary—I mean, investigating—I came across a backpack enchantment that boosts bow damage by 10%. I took it as divine intervention for my earlier archery shame.
Rest, Recovery, and Ustengrav Awaits
With the vampire threat handled (for now), I rested at the inn and prepped for tomorrow’s journey to Ustengrav. Hopefully no more spiders. Or at least fewer boots.
Customloper Diaries Day Three: Charcoal Maps, Rabbit Stew, and a Surprise Wolf Hug
Customloper Diaries – Day 3: Charcoal Maps, Rabbit Stew, and a Surprise Wolf Hug
Weather: Cold start, blizzard pockets, clearing skies
Loot Highlights: Memento cache supplies, birch saplings (for later), Paradise Meadows key, rabbit + fish dinner
Mood: Cocky → practical → “why is that wolf sprinting?”
Early Start, No Light, No Dignity
I wake up at an hour only owls respect. Rather than burn a match in Grey Mother’s house, I feel my way to the door like a bargain-bin escape room contestant. After negotiating with every chair leg in Milton, I finally make it outside to a slate-blue morning and a bitey wind.
Holy Cache, Batman!
The church memento cache pays out: matches, food, and an energy drink. With the essentials secured, I hop between cars toward Milton Bridge, using charcoal to sketch the town like a freezing Bob Ross. The map fills in; my fingers disagree with the artistic direction.
Gun Dreams, Birch Realities
Confidence high, I angle for Paradise Meadows Farm in the faint hope of finding a rifle. Birds circling drag me off-trail toward a body that contributes precisely nothing to my survival except the reminder that I will absolutely chase birds every time.
Nearby I spot birch saplings. Cue a hopeful bow-crafting fantasy… promptly crushed when I re-remember it’s maple I need. I leave the birch to cure anyway—Future Me loves having options.
Bunny Catch, Farm Key, and Yes, Wolves Exist
One clean stone throw nets a rabbit. Moments later—bingo—Paradise Meadows Farmhouse key. Also: my first wolf sighting of the run. So they do exist on Customloper; they were just waiting for dramatic timing.
Inside the farmhouse it’s open-season on usefulness:
- Wool long johns
- A fish stashed in the freezer
- A skillet lounging atop the fridge
- Two more cooking pots (apparently I run a wilderness diner now)
Dinner Is Served
I harvest the rabbit, spot the recipe, and make rabbit stew—with the freezer fish as a bonus course. Water boils, gear gets sorted, excess clothes hit the floor. Feeling very competent, I decide to haul the skillet back to Grey Mother’s. This hubris will be important later.
Wolf Attack Outta Nowhere
Cutting back through Milton, I take one curious corner too many and—bam—wolf sprint. I backpedal for a door, take a hit, and tumble inside with the grace of a sack of sticks. Painkillers down, bandage on, dignity postponed.
I repair what I can until the fatigue meter taps out, then finish the day with rabbit stew and the kind of silence that says “we’ll try that route again tomorrow… smarter.”
End of Day 3.
Continue the Journey
◀ Customloper Diaries – Day 2: Blizzards, Boots, and Baseball Cap Confusion
Customloper Diaries – Day 4: Locked Trunks, Blizzards, and Pancake Promises ▶
More from The Long Dark
- Customloper Diaries Hub — all entries in this run.
- Customloper Settings — rules, tweaks, and difficulty notes.
- Mountain Town / Milton Map — landmarks and routes.
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.
Sneak, Snipe, Repeat: Skyrim Survival Day Nine
Day 9 takes me from ancient tombs to icy swamps. I dodge frost magic in a wooden shack, fight a dragon on a mountain, and uncover a vampire plot in Morthal. Janessa doesn’t make it.
Missed day eight? Find it here: Sneak, Snipe, Repeat: Skyrim Survival Day Eight
Draugr Light: Dustman’s Cairn (Not That One)
The plan for the day? A classic dungeon crawl through Dustman’s Cairn. The reality? I walked into what might have been the world’s most disappointing annex. One room. A handful of draugr. Zero dramatic ambushes. Either I wandered into the wrong entrance, or the rest of the dungeon had a day off.
I poked around for secret doors because this is Skyrim and you never know, but found nothing. Just cobwebs, bad lighting, and the distinct feeling that Todd Howard was laughing somewhere.
Loot? Forgettable. Mood? Slightly stabby.
Bear vs. Blade at Greenspring Hollow
Onwards to Greenspring Hollow. As expected, it came with the usual occupant: a bear with severe anger management issues. True to form, it attacked on sight and asked no questions.
A few solid strikes put the beast down. I looted what little there was and handed the haul to Janessa—my trusted pack mule and silent partner in crime. I didn’t realize at the time that this might be her final job.
Drela’s Cottage: Hospitality Denied
A bit further along, I stumbled across Drela’s Cottage. Hopeful for shelter or at least a warm fire, I stepped inside.
That was my mistake.
Without so much as a hello, Drela greeted me with frost magic to the face. Fortunately, this wasn’t my first time dealing with homicidal wizards. I chugged a Resist Frost potion, ducked behind the suspiciously durable wooden pillar in the center of the room, and played peek-a-boo until Drela ran out of breath—and life.
The loot was unimpressive, but I left with my body temperature (mostly) intact and my life expectancy extended for at least another few hours.
Goodbye Janessa, Hello Dragon
At this point, I decided to cut across the mountains instead of following the road. Direct lines are always faster in theory—less so when those lines involve climbing sheer cliffs in sub-zero weather.
Halfway up, the weather turned, and I heard the familiar sound of a dragon announcing its presence.
The battle was brutal. I managed to land the final blow, but at a terrible cost: Janessa was gone. Whether she was roasted or knocked off the mountain mid-fight, I’ll never know. There was no body, no dramatic final words—just an empty follower slot and a heavy sense of loss.
RIP Janessa.
Overburdened. Underpaid. Better than most.
Welcome to Morthal: Population, Suspicious
I limped into Morthal alone. Freezing. Exhausted. Perfect conditions to stumble into a vampire conspiracy.
The innkeeper filled me in: rumors of bloodsuckers, a burned-down house, and strange happenings. The Jarl, apparently too busy to care, delegated the matter to me after some light investigative work revealed Alva wasn’t quite as human as advertised.
Following a brief round of sleuthing, a confrontation, and the discovery of vampire tomfoolery, I returned to the Jarl. With the truth exposed, she finally took notice—and handed me a new assignment: eliminate the so-called Master Vampire controlling things from the shadows.
Because of course, there’s always a hierarchy.
End of Day Nine
No warmth. No Janessa. And now I’m tasked with taking out a vampire overlord while half my gear capacity disappeared along with my companion.
Classic Skyrim.
If you want to know more, please check out The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim Survival Hub
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)
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.
Day 6 |
Day 8
More from The Long Dark
- The Long Dark Hub — all playthroughs, guides, and maps.
- Survive Your First Week in The Long Dark — beginner-friendly, Switch-tested tips.
- Customloper Diaries — my easier-Interloper series.
- Customloper Settings — my “Easier Interloper” setup.
Survivor Incognito 