Gaming The Long Dark: Road to Desolation Point Season 2

[Spoony]

Hello ladies and gentlemen.

My name is SpoonyMass, Player of Games, speaker of the donut, mumbler of microphones. I'm kicking off my return to YouTube after a 2 month hiatus (had to be done) with one of my more popular series, The Long Dark Road to Desolation Point.

The goal of the series is quite simple, but epic in scope. I am to survive the harsh environments that Hinterland Games has provided in their awesome game, The Long Dark, without dying.

Season 1 covered Mystery Lake, you can catch those 15 (16 is a montage video) of that experience in the playlist. I'll try to post additional episodes as they are released (Mondays at 1:00 PM EST).

Playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6tXDQZ9fNVa2oJJgB7cdiRd1Yk2I0hbl

 

[Spoony]

Episode 17 The Winding River

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.