I think most every small town in America has a place like Snake Road. A place that teens come to cruise around in their cars at night and that are commonly accepted by the local youth as “haunted”. The ghostly residents of the road run the gamut of legends that are common to midwestern towns- a fellow on a bridge who appears to those who turn off their engines and lights, a church that used to be host the Klan that’s inhabited by victims of lynchings past, strange screeching creatures that you only catch a glimpse of in your rearview, and a number of others. The most relevant to this story, though, is what kids referred to as the “ghost lights” or the “ghost car”.
Now, I don’t consider myself to be a paranormal investigator. Hell, I don’t even believe in ghosts. I did believe, however, that such roads make amazing places to cruise a blunt with the cute girl from my math class and other such delinquent activities. This means that I’d spent my fair share of time on the road- probably most than most folks in my high school. None of the ghost stories scared me except for the ghost car… because everyone saw it, including me. I don’t mean that in the way that school girls will say they saw Bloody Mary after saying her name in the school bathroom. I mean that it was just a fact. I’d seen it, all my friends had seen it, there were pictures and videos of it. Probably the best evidence of its actual existence, though, is the fact that local police had actually looked into it.
The police were interested because it was no secret that the ghost car did not like any other folk being on the road. To say that it drove aggressively would be quite the understatement- the bastard actively tried to run other cars off the road. It would appear from nowhere and nearly t-bone you coming out from random old mining roads in the thick forest, it would follow you with barely an inch between your bumpers (some of my more imaginative classmates would claim it actually rammed them), it would swerve and feint as if it was trying to pit maneuver you, and it would even occasionally speed all of the way around you to block the road and rev up its engine forcing you to turn around.
As for the car itself, it looked like it may have started as an old Chevy Blazer but a little hard to tell, as it had some sort of Mad Max treatment. It was lifted a ridiculous amount, had a bright light rail on top, a brush guard (presumably for the ramming, should it decide to do so), and a myriad of other modifications that made it look a lot more like some sort of demonic military vehicle as opposed to a mode of actual transportation. Suffice to say, it looked both cool as hell and scary as hell.
One particular night in early Fall, it was time for another foray out onto Snake Road. The girl I was talking to wanted to go and, much to my chagrin, she was tasked with watching her younger sister for the evening. Since my odds of making out with my date were already effectively ruined, I went ahead and invited a freshman from the baseball team that I’d taken a liking to and who I was attempting to mentor (or maybe convert to being a fellow rascal like myself). The kids were excited; they couldn’t drive and had only heard stories of the Road. Both were ready to see what the older kids were talking about and prove their bravery.
Leaving the town proper, my date- Alex- seemed visibly bored and annoyed at our company for the night.. but as we turned off of Loop onto Snake, even she seemed to get that odd mix of excited and nervous that teenagers get when they’re about to do something stupid. The other two (Mara, and Ben), were on the edges of their seats with their eyes darting from one side of the road to the other. Despite my hormone fueled wish to get Alex’s pants off, I was actually having a good time. It felt good to be the “brave” one in the group without a care in the world, and I relished in my nonchalant-ness knowing that I looked cool in front of the others.
The forest was, admittedly, creepy as fuck at night. Tall trees creeping to the shoulder of both side of the road, making it seem like they were moving in to close you off. Dense undergrowth that made it impossible to see more than five feet of forest floor. Besides, the road earned its name by snaking and zigzagging through the tree covered hills, which meant that at almost any given time you didn’t see more than 50 yards or so ahead. Snake Road was nearly impossible to drive quickly.
We did all of the typical things on the road- stopping at the “KKK Church”, stopping on the bridge to attempt to summon a ghost, shining my Mag Lite into the trees in an attempt to see something unexplainable. Despite all of our efforts, nothing happened. My three compadres were still having a blast; the kiddos were properly terrified despite the lack of activity and even Alex seemed to be entertained.
I, however, was disappointed. I didn’t feel that they were getting the full experience and I wanted to scare the ever living shit out of them all. So, I hatched a plan in my head. Although there were only two residential homes on the entire road, there were a number of old dirt and gravel roads that would appear suddenly and leading to places unknown even to me. My bravery, apparently, only went so far… but with an audience I couldn’t resist.
Normally Snake Road ends in another country road that will eventually take you back to civilization. Tonight, though, I pulled a U-turn to take Snake all of the way back to where we started. About halfway back home (again, with no spooky sightings), I pulled off onto one of the dirt roads. As my headlights shined down the path they fell on a dilapidated barn, much to my surprise.
“Shit, lets leave. This is someone’s property.” - Alex was in Student Council and a great student. She clearly was worried about getting a trespassing ticket and harming her reputation.
“It’s probably haunted!” Mara followed up with.
“It looks like I could push that barn over. I don’t think anyone is still using it. We’ll be fine. It could be haunted though.” The last sentence I added purely for the benefit of Ben and Mara.
That’s because I’d already hatched a plan. I turned off my lights, put my car in park, and announced that I had to take a leak and we’d leave in just a minute. Taking a leak wasn’t a lie, but I also grabbed a joint and cigarette to smoke where the kids couldn’t see me. After this, I’d sneak back up behind the car and scare the bajesus out of all involved. I stuffed a beanie in my pocked so I could pull it all of the way over my face, figuring it’d give me a scary look in the pitch blackness.
Just 5 feet into the woods, I slunk behind a tree and did my business and smoked my smokes, then began to creep my way back up to the car. To my immense surprise, right before I yanked my hat over my face I was blinded by a bright light. In my confusion, it took a moment to locate the light which was shining out of the cracked door of the barn. Once my eyes found it, I recognized it immediately even though you could only see a sliver of the source. Only one pair of headlights can be that high up, and I could just make out the light rack above those.
I’ll admit it; I froze for a second. The ghost car was revving its engine loud enough that its sounded like a jet engine.. and then it started creeping forward. When the headlights reached the slit in the door, it jerked forward abruptly to force the doors open with the bush guard on their bumper.
“Get the fuck in the car!”
Alex’s voice snapped me back to reality, and I threw myself into my front seat and started my car back up. Fuck, I’m way too stoned for this ran through my mind as I yanked the gear in reverse. Now, I didn’t drive any sort of racecar but my Impala was ol’ reliable and I was used to doing stupid things in it. My car sped backwards down the dirt road and, taking apparent notice, the car in front of me took off so fast that it threw up dirt and dust.
I’m not too proud to admit that it wasn’t my amazing driving that kept us from getting ran over- the rat bastards backed off every time they nearly drove up onto my hood. Still, I made good time making it out to the main road. While backing out and completing my turn about, the ghost car actually made contact on my drivers door. It wasn’t hard, but it made a point. I am pretty sure my sphincter was in my throat as it backed away and revved again and took off towards me once again.
But it was my turn to throw gravel and we took off forward just as the other car sped through the space my Impala had occupied a moment before. I’d never driven the road so fast before- maybe not any road so fast. Every corner, my trusty car threatened to slide off of the road or fishtail my backend into a tree. The ghost car was still just toying with me, though. It got close enough to hit me every time I was forced to slow down to control my car, yet never quite did. Once or twice it worked its way up beside me- a pretty dangerous and impressive feat on a road so windy and narrowed- before dropping back.
I was just thinking to myself how happy I was that I’d just emptied my bladder when we all noticed the lights behind us simply… disappeared. I slowed to a crawl, confused, trying to figure out what had happened, but sped back up amid the curses and begging from the others in the car.
We were nearing the end of Snake Road and cross back into the commonly agreed upon as the boundary that no one had ever seen the ghost car cross when we saw it’s lights in front of us blocking the road. It didn’t rev and it didn’t even move. Not fucking possible… and it truly wasn’t! Snake was the only road that actually connected with other public roads. It was as if our pursuer had either driven through miles of dense forest or simply disappeared to rematerialize in front of us. My brain struggled to make sense, and from the look on Alex’s face she realized the impossibility of what we just saw too. I heard a whimpering and crying from the back seat and when I spared a glance to the rearview I saw that it was actually Ben, not Mara which I found incredibly funny for the rest of our time as friends.
“Ben! Give me that breaker bar!”
He’d ridden in my car enough to know what I meant. From the floorboard of my car he handed me a large wrench with electrical tape on the handle as a grip. The tool was actually for breaking my lug nuts free, but I’d used it more than once to threaten my way out of a fight. I played baseball, so I figured I should be pretty good with it if the need arose.
What are you *doing?! Get the hell back in the car!”
I’m not sure what had come over me, but I was already out of my door with the wrench rested on my shoulder. I was pissed at the car, sure, but mostly there was just no way around it. Nowhere to reverse to turn around, no room to get around the ghost car. Moreover, in my steady headlights looking at the thing straight on it didn’t look quite as intimidating- covered in dings and scratched paint. Maybe that’s what you’d expect from a ghost car but it made it seem so much more tangible.
Just as I started forward to see if I could smash a headlight or window from a ethereal SUV, my eyes caught something else. There was an opening in the trees the size of a road. A road that shouldn’t be there, believe me I knew this road pretty well and there were only a handful of opening in the trees and not a single one should have been here. Still, it stood a little closer to me than it did the Blazer and I thought I could make it. I ran and threw myself into the drivers seat once more and, upon seeing this, the ghost car leapt forward. All three of my passengers screamed- I’m not sure if it’s because they thought I was driving into a tree or if it’s because we were about to get rammed.
I couldn’t have avoided the other car’s attack by more than a foot, and we all bounced high enough that I hit my head on the roof of my car as it bottomed out on the ditch and was on the path I’d spied. Sure enough it was a road, more or less at least. Rutted and washed out, it didn’t make driving easy but I made it. With no more lights behind us Alex and I marveled at how this road shouldn’t be here and even my skeptic ass figured that a road appeared for us in our moment of need. We were all confused, exhausted, and more than a little scared still. Eventually, our bumpy ride dumped us back out further up Snake Road and further away from town on another break in foliage that I would have bet my life on hadn’t existed when we passed earlier.. or any other time I’ve driven the road.
From there on out, the drive was uneventful. I had regained enough of my sense of humor to ask if anyone wanted to stop on the bridge one more time (“No!- three voices in complete unison). Even I breathed a sigh of relief as we pulled back into town and the world of other people and streetlights. Ben was dropped off first, then I took the girls home and gave Alex as kiss (“Gross!”- Mara) as they left the car.
I didn’t really drive Snake Road after that and eventually just chalked the experience up to one of those weird things that I’d never have an answer about. A few years later when I was in college I hadn’t thought about that night in a long time. Alex texted me telling me to watch the news; I figured it must be important as Alex and I had fallen out of touch.
Sure enough, breaking news. The largest meth lab bust within at least a dozen counties had happened, and it had happened on Snake Road. For years, four rednecks had been running an off-grid cookhouse, and using the ghost car story to coral thrill-seeking teens and lost adults alike away from anywhere they could find the base of operations. Beyond the massive amounts of meth, the police found a beat up lifted Blazer and a disturbing amount of firearms.
The news announced that an intricate amount of paths had been used to navigate without actually being on the road- some old access roads that already existed and some paths that the police suspected they’d cut themselves over the years. The perps were careful to always cover the entrances to some of these paths with deadfall, camo burlap, and brush. This allowed them to appear at various points on the road that seemingly out of thin air. Finally one night, the driver had sampled just a little too much of his product and rammed a teen’s car hard, severely injuring both. Had it not been for this, nobody is quite sure how long it would have taken for them to be caught… if they ever were.
I don’t live in my hometown anymore, but when I visit I usually make a trip out to Snake just for a pleasant drive. It’s funny, because even though the woods were likely never haunted they still feel clean now… as if knowing the ghost car was gone had exorcised the entire road in my mind.