Well, yesterday, I had quite the day. This week is our homecoming week at school, and I'm in Journalism, so one of my assignments was to stay after school and take pictures of the homecoming parade for the newspaper. A fellow Journalism friend of mine decided to stay after school and help me since he had a car and could drive me around, and another friend of mine just decided to stay after school and hang out/ride around with me and my other friend. I got the camera from my teacher and after that, the task of taking the pictures was simple. I got nearly 100 good pictures of our band, the fire marshalls, the school club floats, the homecoming king, queen, princesses, and princes, and some of the people watching the parade. After I gave the camera back to my Journalism teacher, my friend with the car decided that he needed to go by his work place and pick up something, and also get some gas. Since me and my other friend has some free time, we said we would go with him. (He works at a store about 10 miles away from our school) On the way there, we went through an airbase that isn't in use anymore. My friend who had just tagged along with us says, "Hey. Did you know there's a really creepy graveyard out here? We should go find it." I didn't want to go because I wasn't sure if my friend even knew how to get to said graveyard. But, my friend driving the car says, "Alright! That sounds cool! Just tell me how to get there." My friend directed us down this extremely muddy, and overgrown dirt road in the middle of nowhere close to a cotton field. It had just rained the day before, and I kept telling my friends that the car, having only front wheel drive, could not handle driving in the mud. (Where I live, we have what they call "gumbo" mud. If you step in it, you sink and you'll probably pull your shoe and pants off just trying to lift your foot up again.) They ignored me, extremely intrigued by how fast we were going and the fun of bouncing up and down in the mudholes. Finally, after driving for about two miles, we reached the end of the dirt road. Though there was a smaller, more overgrown road to the immediate left. I wanted to turn around. My friends wanted to take the other road, thinking that it would loop around the cotton field and it wouldn't be as treacherous as the road we had just gone down. They were wrong. We drove down that road for a little while, until there was simply no more road. I told my friend to stop, and he didn't, driving at about 60 mph to where he thought the road was and right into a huge muddy hole, filled with stagnant water. He tried to keep going and couldn't. He tried to back out until his tires smoked, but we didn't budge. We were stuck. Extremely stuck. The whole front end of his car was submurged in mud. He, and my friend sitting in the front, couldn't open the front doors without mud and water pouring in. Immediately, my friend driving has a nervous breakdown. After calming my friend down, me and my other friend started frantically making phone calls. (Thank god for cell phones) We thought, "Hey. We live in the South. Tons of people around here have trucks with four wheel drive. They can come bail us out of here." We called around to every number we knew for about an hour. No one could help us. We were stuck in the middle of nowhere in a mud hole, and to make things worse, the sun was getting lower and lower in the sky. There was simply no way we could push the car out. We were likely to drown trying, so me and my friend got out, instructed my friend in the driver's seat to pop the trunk and we tried to pull the car out of the mud, with him putting it in reverse. No luck. We got the car to budge a little, but it would sink back into the mud when we let go. Finally, my friend's phone rings. One of his friends had called, hearing about what had happened. He had a truck and a chain. He just needed to know where to find us. That was a problem. All we could say was, "Near a cotton field?" We gave him the best directions we could, but me and another friend would have to walk back the way we came to flag this guy down. We left my friend with his car and me and the other guy set out to walk a couple of miles to the main road. (We had to crawl out of the car through the backseat and into the trunk, then out through the trunk to get out of the car) We traversed potholes and mud, and I even nearly got bitten by a snake, but we finally (after walking a mile or so) found the guy who was supposed to help us. The whole way to my friend's car, he scolded us about driving out in the middle of nowhere through mud in a little car. When we got there, he realized there was nothing he could hook his chain to on my friend's car so, with his help, and the help of a friend he had brought along, we managed to pull the car out of the mud. He then helped us get past the bad parts in the road and stayed with us until we could get some more gas. We couldn't thank this guy enough. Needless to say, we didn't find the graveyard. So, does anyone else have a similar story to share?