After her car went up in flames on the way home from a casino, 74-year-old Nancy Bloomquist defied the odds by surviving days in the woods, only to be rescued by a drone that surely deserves a medal.

Bloomquist's harrowing adventure began when her vehicle caught fire due to engine troubles on a desolate road, leaving her to fend for herself in freezing temperatures and rain. Lost but not defeated, she took shelter under a downed tree, showcasing both her survival instincts and a remarkable ability to choose the worst possible time to take a gamble on nature. Thanks to a drone, which may now consider a career in search-and-rescue, authorities located her alive approximately 150 yards from her charred car, proving that even in dire straits, there's always a chance for a high-flying rescue.

Bloomquist was last seen leaving the Little River Casino around 5:30 p.m. on Thursday, blissfully unaware that her evening would take a turn more dramatic than the thrill of the slot machines. The adventure took a hostile turn shortly after she departed, as her vehicle became disabled on a private road. With the likeliest igniter being the engine's heroic but misguided attempts at traction during adverse weather, the car soon transformed from a mode of transportation to a fiery beacon of potential rescue, albeit a rather unsettling one.

It wasn't until a day later that authorities were alerted to Bloomquist's predicament. The vehicle was reported by the owner of a seasonal home who stumbled upon the singed carcass nestled on their property. This might have been the worst 'find' since the invention of leftovers that nobody dared to toss out of the fridge. Upon discovering the charred remains of what once was a seemingly innocent car, the search for the driver began in earnest. Bloomquist was now officially counted as missing, though she was unwittingly embarking on an impromptu wilderness survival program.

For Bloomquist, the next few days included battling against temperatures that dipped down to a bone-chilling 22 degrees coupled with rain and light snow. This unvinyl-like weather is not a usual recommendation for a campaign of self-sufficiency but Bloomquist seemed determined to rewrite all survival manuals from a rustic cabin perspective. Finding strength neither in will nor in warmth, she searched for shelter and eventually snuggled up next to a downed tree, which, unbeknownst to her, would become a cornerstone of her temporary abode in the wild.

Amazingly, her resourcefulness paid off when she managed to stay conscious and engaged with her surrounding environment, as evidenced by her attempts at returning to her car, which evidently led her astray instead of towards salvation. Perhaps Bloomquist was under the impression her burnt-out vehicle was still capable of roadside assistance. When rescue teams began their search using drones, Bloomquist unknowingly found herself as the star of a rather unconventional game of hide and seek where she desperately hoped to be found.

Once the drone located her approximately 150 yards from her former vehicle, the officers likely greeted her with a greater sense of relief than the notorious 'hello' of a late-night telemarketer. Authorities lowered their aerial marvel for a landing, and deputies were able to communicate with her upon reaching the scene. It seems Bloomquist not only survived the wilderness but had also brushed up on her communication skills, which could be attributed to her internal monologues during a long four-day wait.

After ensuring she was in a state of consciousness and not stuck in a classic game of ‘survival of the smartest,’ Bloomquist was taken to the hospital for treatment of exposure. While her new friends in the medical facility surely offer more warmth than a downed tree, they also undoubtedly would have plenty of 'the odds were against you' anecdotes to share.

Bloomquist's story proves that not only can life come out of the ashes, but sometimes it can also arrive courtesy of modern technology and a bit of luck. The drone played a crucial role in locating her during the aerial search launched by authorities after her burned vehicle was reported. As for Bloomquist, it seems that her trying experience may change her perspective on trips to casinos.

In the end, this saga amps up the drama surrounding casino excursions. Perhaps a vehicle recall is in order for those considering hitting a casino out in the woods—after all, an actual jackpot can be a rather deceiving allure when the flames start flying. Here’s hoping Bloomquist picks up a playing card or two in her leisure time once she’s finished recounting the tales of her unintentional foray into the forest. After all, nothing gives a good story like a touch of adventure—or some eerily similar automotive experiences.