Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 1: You Again!

Unprepared Log 5 – Day 1: You Again

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Will

Apparently, changing survivor does not change my luck.

Even after switching to Will, The Long Dark drops me into the exact same spawn it gave Astrid.

Desolation Point. Again.

At this point it feels less like randomness and more like a test of character.

The difference this time is simple: I’m not arguing with the region. I’m passing through it.

Loot, Don’t Linger

The plan is immediate and non-negotiable: get to Hibernia Processing.

On the way, I scoop up whatever I can without slowing down — sticks, rose hips, reishi mushrooms. The usual early-game survival tax.

I make a half-hearted attempt at rabbits. They take one look at me and decide today is not the day.

No sign of bridge moose. I assume this spawn has given me rock moose instead. I’m nowhere near him, and I intend to keep it that way.

I avoid the ice entirely. Day 1 is not when you gamble.

The goal is to loot Hibernia, sleep there, and leave Desolation Point behind tomorrow.

Thinking Long-Term

The real objective isn’t here.

I want Mystery Lake, then straight on to Forlorn Muskeg for the forge.

This is a loot-and-go run. Previous attempts taught me that lingering in Desolation Point just turns into a slow death.

Coastal Highway is the next stop for a reason:

  • A chance at a hacksaw in the garage
  • Cat tails to keep me alive without wasting matches

If the hacksaw doesn’t show up, I’ll take a heavy hammer. I just need a path toward improvised tools.

I’ve thought about coming back here for the forge before. This region has repeatedly informed me that this is a bad idea.

Forlorn Muskeg can have the honours.

Hibernia Processing

I reach Hibernia and begin the most important activity of any Interloper start.

Match hunting.

The game turns it into a round of hide and seek, but eventually I spot them tucked into a dark corner on a shelf.

That’s enough to keep the run alive.

I get a fire going and start looting properly.

Then I see it.

A bedroll.

At that moment, the absence of a hacksaw stops mattering.

A bedroll means caves are viable shelter. It means blizzards don’t automatically end the run. It means I’m no longer one bad weather roll away from disaster.

A bearskin bedroll would be ideal. This will do.

Food Is a Future Problem

I find a small stash of food. Enough to buy me a day or two.

I’ve learned not to obsess over hunger. Right now, calories just need to exist, not be comfortable.

Long-term, I need something sustainable. Rabbits and ptarmigans make sense early on, but without a bow or snares, I’m going to be throwing rocks for a while.

Another reason Coastal Highway needs to happen quickly.

I cook what I can while the fire is going:

  • Mushrooms
  • Coffee
  • Peaches, while boiling water

I also find a windbreaker jacket. Not great, but it beats freezing slightly faster.

No hat. No gloves. Frostbite is still very much on the menu.

End of Day 1

I eat, drink, and finally sleep.

Tomorrow’s plan is clear:

  • Head for Abandoned Mine No. 5
  • Collect coal along the way
  • Hope lightning strikes twice with a prybar
  • Push into Coastal Highway

This run already feels different.

Not easier.

Just less naive.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 5 – Day 2

Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #3 – Day 1

Unprepared Log 3 – Day 1: Close Enough to Matter

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Astrid

I decided to mix things up and go as Astrid. The game thought the same thing and sent me to Desolation Point.

Already, this felt like a better start.

I’ve been here a few times on easier difficulties. Not confident — just familiar enough to believe I had a chance. Compared to some Interloper spawns, this felt almost reasonable.

I headed straight for the lighthouse. Closest structure. It wasn’t warm enough to keep me comfortable, but it was shelter, and at this point that was enough.

I found nothing useful inside, so I moved on.

Same Bridge, Same Problem

I considered the church, but I rated my chances higher at the Whale Processing Unit.

Then I saw the bridge.

And, of course, there was a moose on it.

I’m convinced that moose lives there. Every time I want to cross, it’s waiting. Not aggressive. Just present. Like it knows.

I rerouted to the Riken instead. It felt like a smart move right up until I stepped inside and realised I couldn’t see a thing.

No light. No fire. No patience.

I backed out and committed to the Whale Processing Unit.

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A Small Win

I checked the trailers first. Barely warm, but warm enough to slow the temperature drop.

I searched for cloth. Nothing. Not a single scrap. Which meant no makeshift hat and an exposed head for the foreseeable future.

I stepped back outside and immediately walked into a blizzard.

Perfect timing.

The Whale Processing Unit was right there, so I made a run for it — and finally caught a break.

Matches.

Twelve of them. Actual progress. I got a fire going, made water, pulled torches, and kept that fire alive as long as I could.

I found a nearby safe. Some food. Some cash. Nothing else.

Still, for Interloper, this felt like momentum.

The Riken Mistake

Then the worst thing happened.

I got itchy feet.

I knew there was a forge on the Riken. I stood there watching water boil, convincing myself it was worth the risk.

It wasn’t.

The Riken had nothing useful. No tools. No help. Just a note and the key for a memento cache.

Then I made the mistake that quietly followed me for the rest of the run.

I slept for a couple of hours and forgot that sleeping automatically extinguishes a torch.

When I woke up, it was dark — and the only way to get moving again was to burn a match to relight it.

One small lapse. One less match. I moved on without realising how much that would matter later.

Losing the Thread

I headed back toward the Whale Processing Unit to look for the memento cache.

Something got angry out on the ice.

I never saw it, but my money was on a moose. I’ve heard them casually wandering around in blizzards before. They’re built differently.

I searched for the cache but couldn’t pinpoint it. I knew the area, just not well enough.

Rather than waste daylight, I moved on.

I eventually reached another trailer and found a fire barrel. I got it going and checked inside.

Nothing useful. There was a bed.

I ignored it.

Scruffy’s Cave

I wanted the Abandoned Mine. Surely that would pay out.

I grabbed sticks, fed the fire, took a few torches, and set off.

Along the way I picked up three wolves. As long as the torches stayed lit, they kept their distance.

I reached a cave and went inside.

The plan was simple: pick a wall, follow it, and let the cave lead me somewhere useful.

I found a deer carcass. Meat on the ground. If I could get a fire going, this run might actually stabilise.

Then the music changed.

I wasn’t alone.

I’d walked straight into Scruffy’s cave.

I still had a torch, but I was already paying for the mistake I’d made earlier on the Riken.

That wasted match meant less margin, less flexibility, and no room for hesitation.

Scruffy didn’t hesitate. He ignored the flame, charged straight through it, and ended the run.

Time survived: 17 hours.

My longest run so far.

Not ended by one bad decision — but by a small one made hours earlier.

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Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 2 – Day 1 |
Unprepared Log 4 – Day 1

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