The Long Dark: Road to Desolation Point


SpoonyMass

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Greetings fellow survivalist!

So the Road to Desolation Point series as been revived with the newest and last sandbox update v.423 (Faithful Cartographer).  For awhile it had laid dorment considering the challenges Hinterland already provided.  Now however with Wintermute dropping in August, I felt it was enough time to get some serious time with Sandbox Mode, really get down with it.  SO, the Road to Desolation Point is back.  The goal is to explore the new areas I haven't yet, namely Coastal Highway, Timberwolf Mountain, Forlorn Muskeg, and finally Desolation Point where we will end our series at the top of the lighthouse (potentially).  

There are a lot of things that can and probably will go wrong with this, but hopefully you enjoy as we travel..., 

New Episodes Monday Thru Friday @ 6/5 PM 

For more playthroughs, check out my channel: SpoonyMass Player of Games

The Long Dark Stuff:

Challenges: Playlist

Life and Death At Mystery Lake:  Playlist

Road to Desolation Point: Playlist

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I wake after the plane crash, the dawn cresting over the horizon, the warm sun hiding faithfulness to the brilliance of the cold. It assaults my bones, my clothes in shambles. I managed to take what supplies I could, but I will need more if I am to travel towards salvation..., towards Desolation Point.

The road beckons...,

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  • 2 weeks later...

Just a heads up on this series for this month.

My plan is to release the next installments on Wednesday's at 3:00 PM CST/4:00 PM EST throughout the month of October. November it'll be moved back to Monday's at the normal publishing time of 2:00 PM CST/3:00 PM EST

I know it's been particularly absent in my lineup, but it's not something I've forgotten. Point of clarity actually, it's going to be an ongoing series...., hopefully. If I don't die.

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Continuing to walk the road. Still more to find at Mystery Lake, but the wolves are out, I can hear them howl. I'm weak from the food poisoning, but I press on in the hope of finding food, medicine, and resources. My search leads me to the Logging Camp...,

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The wind and the snow bite against the Carter Hydro Dam. I hear the howl of nature trying to take me into the Long Dark, like a beckoning siren's call. With not much save for what I've gathered, what I've collected, I muster the cold. My plans..., ruined.

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  • 2 weeks later...

I muster the cold and continue trek through the logging road.

*My apologies for not posting this on Monday, but I was on a bit of a holiday. It did publish on time, but I was not around a computer to come and post here. So again, my apologies for those that follow through this topic.

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  • 2 weeks later...

So we have arrived back at the Carter Hydro Dam. Having discovered and harvested pretty much all that is necessary to craft the deer skin pants, boots, wolfskin coat, and the survival bow. 12 days we have spent at Mystery Lake, 12 days since I've found myself lost amongst the white and cold. Now with such precious resources collected, I begin the long, but necessary, goal of crafting all the equipment necessary to venture to my next destination, the destination that will cover Season 2 of the Road to Desolation Point, Pleasant Valley. But before I venture back out into the Long Dark, we give thanks to the land that has graced us enough to be called home. The many places used in shelter and warmth, and the darkness that hides just around the bend.

A montage to the great winter presented at Mystery Lake.

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  • 2 months later...

Hello once again Survivalist..., 

For those of you who do not know me, I am SpoonyMass, Player of Games, speaking of garble, mumbler to the masses.  I also play this thing called The Long Dark and have made somewhat of a successful series called Road to Desolation Point; the goal of course to reach Desolation Point in Sandbox Mode without dying starting at Mystery Lake and crossing through the other areas via the transitional avenues (caves, mines, highways).  Tall order and last year we closed Season 1 with the Mystery Lake's End montage, which you can see above (or below..., you know..., depending on if you're mobile).  

It's with great pride that I bring you Season 2's first episode, the Winding River, a continuation on the Road to Desolation Point.  

 

Journal Entry Day 19

It has been several days since last I ventured outside.  I remain here at the Dam, the thick walls and cold floor my only salvation to the harsh blister of the cold.  I've spent these nights at rest, as best as my bed roll will allow; though, I've repaired it many times, I can see it's wear and tear being an issue if used any more prolifically.  I've gotten quite good at mending, taking my time to properly use the materials I've collected off the land and it's creatures to fabricate much warmer clothing.  The deer skin boots and pants; though stiff, still keep the cold out better than my former jeans and wool.  It's like a different existence without the constant bite of cold at your feet and legs.  What took the longest of time was the wolfskin coat.  Most nights I slept on the upper levels of the dam, my bedroll next to the workbench, my fingers working to the bone.  It's a quiet somber experience, made even more pronounced by the silence.  Nothing but nature.  Nothing but wind and the crack of metal as the Dam's walls fight the good fight.  

I've had time to think these past days, crafting clothing and a bow allows several moments of reflection.  I think back to the crash, the moment of solidarity to the nightmare that seemed almost infinite.  I had bailed, too much wind carried me towards the mountain side, too many trees to take her down easy; though I had thought about the lake that I've called home for the past 19 days, I did not want to risk cracking it's surface and suffering a fate of drowning..., or worse.  I know my plane continued to move northward, slightly east.., hard to track the thing when no smoke follows it's contrails.  There is a door below the Dam, it's lower levels that will take me to a river that flows that way..., or did flow that way.

With food becoming an issue, some not keeping as best as I thought it should, I've decided to gather what supplies I can carry and make my way to the river..., 

..., I don't know if I'll ever be able to return to the Carter Dam, but I give thanks for it's service as a sanctuary.  

 

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Journal Entry Day 20

I'm tired and cold tonight; though outside the snowfall is beautiful in the peril glow of the moon, no amount of awesome can make me forget my exhaustion.  Crossing thresholds between Mystery Lake and this new area, Pleasant Valley I find myself closer to Desolation Point, the looming horizon of Timberwolf Mountain taunts me however.  I find myself questioning whether or not to venture so far off the beaten path.  I shall sleep in comfort, the warmth of a bed.  It has been a long time since I've slept with my body not pressed in a bed roll on the hard floor.  I welcome such liberties.   

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Journal Entry Day 21

It is the second night that I'm stuck up here on Signal Hill, running out of daylight to explore.  The whole day was a blizzard, mind numbing and cold.  The kind that you couldn't see two inches in front of you let alone keep yourself on a trail or a direction.  If it was Mystery Lake, an area I know well, I would have risked it, but Pleasant Valley is large forested, and picking a direction to wander aimless in isn't my idea of playing it safe.  This isn't a game after all, I do not have a reset button.  

There was a break in the storm, the twilight on the approach as the sun cast it's last rays upon the frozen wilderness.  I caught a brief glimpse of a road at the bottom of Signal Hill; though, too steep to head towards directly, I find that perhaps I can scoot my way down the mountain pass into the trail I came up on and follow the ridge towards, hopefully, the road that will take me further.  

I bed down.  Stocked with bear meat and provisions.  Tomorrow I'll explore.  

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  • 2 weeks later...

Journal Entry Day 22

Hunger does not approach me, but the snowfall still beats relentless against the sheltered remains of an abandoned farmstead.  Hints of lives abandoned, lost as I take comfort in the warmth remnants.  I can't help but feel a twinge of empathy, a tiny grain of sadness still left unfrozen after nearly a month's time of survival.  It was the crib, the toy blocks, the entanglement of emotions as I stared blankly in the auburn glow of my lantern as it's light cast upon what had been a child's room.  Where was this burden now?  What still breath could be sent among in favor of reflect upon the dead.  I couldn't help but cry silently.  I had seen such abandonment before, had seen the world move on in the forgotten footfalls as their prints were washed away by the blind of the snow.  But a child's life so vibrant and innocent, cut short..., it was enough to send my thoughts into over drive.  Despite the comfort of the warm bed, the food in my belly, and the exhaustion that has been paid to trek from Signal Hill to here, I don't believe I will sleep soundly in what I can't but think is an effigy; a coffin.  

The whole world has turned to this.  Abandoned.  Reminders.  Like ghosts..., 

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Journal Entry Day 23

Mysteries unknown to me why such beauty is held within the cold entrapment of ice and snow.  Beneath such wastes was the world I knew, the world that made sense, now, nothing but white reflection.  Perhaps it's a turning point in the evolution of our planet, perhaps punishment, but I'll forever know it to be a reset.  A do over whose only challenge is in testing one's ability to survive out here, alone in the cold of the long dark.  I find myself with these dark thoughts, like whispers of mania, while spending another night in the Radio Control Room at Signal Hill.  I say it's because of restocking equipment, I say it's because the clothes I have become too fragile, too torn to wear in my continued trek.  But the truth is I find safety above it all here, I feel sanity in the loneliness atop this hill far above that which has claimed the valley below.  I fear the unknown and the span between nothingness and possibilities are just too far for comfort.  

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Journal Entry Day 24

The weather has rolled in and my trek from Signal Hill to Rural Crossing has drained me.  Perhaps I've attempted to carry too many items along, perhaps the notion of isolation and the sacristy of civilization had dwindled what strength I have to press onward.  The day is still alive, the sun still attempts to shine through and for the most part during my early trek down the hill, it was a welcomed sight.  But now it too has been blanketed by the storms and winds, ostracizing any sight that might come to me.  So I shelter myself in this small storehouse that has already been ransacked though I found a few items of interest.  I still have plenty of daylight, eight hours, I suspected that I'd need more time than previous ventures, as much of the journey was a journey through unknown unseen territory.  But I should have suspected that the wolf kill early this morning and the skinning and gutting of the beast would have drove my energy down.  Perhaps I'm not as strong as I once was at the start of this..., perhaps it's not just the cold, nature, and the bleakness I am fighting but my own willingness to continue..., 

..., it would be so innocent, so easy to find a spot somewhere and embrace the long dark.    

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