Out of nowhere, the engine of our car started sputtering and smoking. The car ignited before we could even pull over to turn it off. Panicked, our driver foolishly drove into the river in an attempt to extinguish the flames. We all jumped out shore side—scared of piranhas or who knows what else might be in the murky waters.

The car endured a slow death, the river slowly seeping in, but not quite enough to extinguish the flames. We watched helplessly. Though we were grateful to have survived, the thought of navigating the jungle on foot filled us with dread—especially because there was now a pillar of smoke signaling our location. We still had miles to go before reaching what we could only hope would be the lost city. And even so, turning back was a longer journey still.

Mournfully cutting our losses, we cautiously trekked on. We had passed the point of no return.