We all turn, bug eyed, mouths gawping, and watch where it goes and then crap ourselves and almost die of simultaneous heart attacks. Squealing in unison like feeble girls, as the entire flock of black ravens shoot right across the truck, like a black swipe. Skimming the roof, blocking out the light, and windshield, so we’re drowned out by a bizarre loud noise of beating wings and zooming air, impossible to ignore.

Visually we follow it to the right, exposing a very grimy, overgrown, and barely visible dirt road between unkempt trees. Almost obediently we all crane our necks to stare at the dense undergrowth in stunned silence. Poised and...