A Matter of Life and Death: The Devil’s Luck

A Dangerous Decision

Hours earlier…

It was the middle of summer when I embarked on my first road trip across the United States. Leaving the oilfield behind, I figured a trip back to California would be perfect.

So far, the worst part of the trip was getting pulled over for speeding. Even then, I didn’t receive a ticket because the policeman couldn’t determine whether I was the speeder or whether it was the nearby car.

It was definitely me—but not by much.

For this trip to California, I had planned to visit as many national parks and forests as possible. When I arrived in the afternoon, my next destination—Apache Sitgreaves National Forest—seemed a little strange.

There were no vehicles in sight, and the moderately moist ground indicated that it rained the day before.

I glanced back and forth between my 2003 Honda Accord and the forest entrance.

I’ll just drive a little bit further, I thought. I’ll back up and skip it if I can’t go far.

So, I set my GPS and drove on.

Ten minutes passed without incident. Everything seemed fine, and I began admiring the serenity of the scenic forest before me.

Suddenly, a flash of panic overcame my senses as the wheels began slipping. Once I began steering, I felt the car drifting to the side towards a muddy ditch.

“Shitballs!” I steered furiously in the opposite direction.

For about a minute, I guided my car through the various slides, slips, and spins.

Once on stable terrain, I looked back and found a destroyed path. Any attempt to return would surely result in a stranded vehicle. There simply wasn’t enough traction.

I reached for my phone.

Damn. No signal.

The only option was to continue forward and hope for the best.

The GPS path looks simple. Mostly straight. I got this.

Pool of Water

An hour had passed without incident. Then I saw the massive pool of water—one five times the size of my car.

“Damn it…what the hell,” I murmured to myself.

While scanning the surroundings, I noticed a small ledge of dirt towards the right.

I backed the car a short distance, took a deep breath, and launched the vehicle forward, halfway onto the ledge, essentially driving at a 30-degree angle for 10 seconds.

Once off the edge, the car slammed on a level surface, stunning me for several seconds.

I made it. Sheeeeyut.

I pressed onwards.

Sharp Rocks

Another 15 minutes had passed, and everything was going so well.

Maybe that’s it.

No such luck. A cluster of what appeared to be a thousand sharp rocks littered the ground before me.

With a high-clearance four-wheel-drive truck, I could have passed the rocks with ease. But my Honda Accord would never make it across in one piece.

I spent about an hour clearing the rocks from the path, returning to the car at various intervals to drive it forward.

As I drove onwards, I stared at the single remaining water bottle on the passenger seat.

I need to make it out of the forest by sundown.

I was pretty screwed, and there was still no one within sight. I also couldn’t realistically walk several miles in any direction.

Precarious Hill

Only mere minutes had passed until I arrived at a pool of water beneath a steep hill.

I exited my car and surveyed the landscape.

This one was trickier. If the car moved too quickly, I would have launched off the hill and plunged over 10 feet. If the car moved too slowly, I would have been stuck in the pool of water.

I paused in silence for several minutes, fulling comprehending the situation. If I failed to solve any of these puzzles, I was surely doomed.

It was like a shitty game, and the prize was getting to live.

“Fuck. Me. Sideways,” I murmured to myself, returning to the car.

I slammed the gas and, fortunately, overcame the pool of water. Before reaching the top, I slammed the brakes, causing the car to balance precariously—almost like a teeter-totter—at the top of the hill. I steadily pumped the gas and tipped the scales, allowing the car to gradually drift down the hill.

Once on level ground, I stepped outside for a short break to gather my thoughts.

Standing alone in the forest, I could feel the wind’s cold caress on my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

Instead of a breeze of relief, the wind felt menacing, as if an evil forest spirit had noticed my presence. The sudden passing wind was a warning—sort of a “you better get out of this place soon, or your ass is mine, sweet boy” kind of warning. I didn’t believe in such things, but it was still terribly eerie.

My hands trembled as I drank from my last water bottle. If I had drunk any water earlier, I might have pissed myself.

The Cliffhanger

After driving for another 30 minutes, I found myself on a steep rocky path, narrow enough for only one car.

This can’t be right, I thought. This GPS is crazy. Did this shit take me up a hiking path?!

But the path was too narrow and winding to simply back up, especially in a car with no backup camera. Any small error and I would slip off the cliff immediately. I had to turn the car around somehow.

Noticing a small ledge in the distance, I drove my car forward, getting into position.

I backed towards the cliff, exiting and entering the car at various intervals to test how close I could move to the edge.

There was just one problem. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t create enough space to make the turn.

I had to slam my Honda against the hill. There was simply no other way.

Resigned to my fate, I slightly nudged the car back one last time.

My heart pounded fiercely as the car slipped slowly off the cliff edge. Apparently, the foundation fell apart. Within fractions of a second, I floored the gas pedal and launched towards the side of the mountain.

The violent ordeal thrashed me about for several seconds while ripping the bumpers apart.

As I headed down, I noticed a small road hidden by a cluster of fallen trees.

Fucking trees, I thought.

Overconfidence

It should have been so easy. But I was careless.

All I had to do was drive in between the grooves—one wheel on the median and the other on the patch of grass. Simple.

But I rushed it and slammed the gas, causing the wheels to slip on the wet grass as I drifted towards the middle, leaving the car high-centered.

After trying in vain for half an hour, I left the car and went off in search of help.

Strange Fortune

I walked for 20 hopeless minutes with GPS in hand.

Nothing.

I stared into the vast emptiness of the forest, planning for the worst-case scenario.

Even if I were to find someone, they probably couldn’t do anything. I would need some sort of powerful vehicle—one capable of handling this difficult terrain—and a winch to pull the car out. The dirt was too soft and wet for another vehicle to simply pull.

I had to abandon the car and find shelter first. But, according to the GPS, I was several miles from the nearest main road.

“If I ever make it out of this alive, I’m never doing this shit again.” I sighed deeply. “Fuck this! Fuck those trees! Fuck those tree over there, too! Fuck this whole damn place! Fuck everything! Fuck ME—sideways!”

I went on walking and cursing for another 15 minutes until, suddenly, I heard a dog barking.

I ran for several minutes, following the dog’s barks, and came across a light in the distance.

Ah shit, please don’t be something weird. Please don’t be a witch. Please don’t be a witch. Please don’t be a witch.

As I moved closer, a cabin in the woods revealed itself.

Then I saw it.

NO WAY.

I walked over and inspected the vehicle. It was a Jeep with a winch—the two exact things that I desperately needed.

I glanced at the cabin nearby, dreading whoever was on the other side.

I knocked.

Please don’t have a gun. Please don’t have a gun. Please don’t have a gun.

Tom, an elderly man, opened the door.

After I told him my story, he proceeded to verbally destroy me.

He was right though. If he didn’t happen to have a vacation home there, the forest might have claimed me.

I thanked him profusely as we drove the jeep to my stranded Honda.

“Here. Let me do it,” Tom said, moving into position to secure his sling.

The winch pulled with ease, freeing my car from its high-centered prison.

“I don’t know how the hell you got through the entire forest and still ended up stuck here.”

I scratched my head. “Yeah…I got careless at this part. Should have just taken it slow because of the wet grass.”

“At THIS part?! You were careless when you entered the whole goddamn place!”

“I know! I messed up! I’m sorry about all this!” I extended my hand. “But I’m very thankful that you were here to save me. I mean it.”

“Ehh. Don’t mention it.” Tom shook my hand. “I’ve only seen four by fours make it through that forest—and definitely not after rain. I have no idea how that Honda didn’t break down.”

“It’s a good car? Although I did have to bypass some intense obstacles, but—.”

“From the look of things, you would have been dead if you had gotten stuck anywhere else but here. Then again, you’d be dead if I weren’t here.”

“Is it just you? No one else?” I asked.

“Yeah. Only me—for miles. Getting through all that somehow AND finding me here—you’ve got the devil’s luck, boy.”

“Think it’ll be enough to get out of the forest? GPS says I’ve got several more miles to go.”

Tom entered his jeep and pointed in the distance. “It’s pretty much an easy path from here on out. I wouldn’t have a cabin in this neck of the woods otherwise.”

“Understood. Thank you for everything!” I waved as Tom drove off.

Tom was right. The path was very easy, and I felt like an idiot for getting stuck when I was so close to making it out safely.

I drove for a short while before pulling over on the side of the road. The damaged rear bumper was flapping wildly, but I had no means to fix it.

As luck would have it, a vehicle of strangers pulled up with everything that I needed—a drill, zip ties, and some nails.

The strangers helped me secure the back bumper with the nails and zip ties.

“You got some crazy luck, buddy. We’re probably the only car for the next hundred miles with all this equipment.”

“Yeah, the Devil’s Luck, apparently. Thank you both for helping.”

They waved farewell and disappeared into the distance.

I drove off—and you probably won’t believe this—towards the sunset. Apparently, I had gotten out of the forest about 30 minutes before the sunset.

It was a very nice view to end a very shitty day.

Strangely enough, one thing about that incident still perplexes me to this day: I never saw a dog, and Tom said he lived alone. So, where did that barking come from?