I'm out in the woods somewhere. Jenny (from the climbing club) is scuba diving down a very shallow river, just a couple inches deep but about 40 feet wide, which seems nearly impossible and sort of dangerous. It's not a proven route, and it seems like she's attempting it almost as a joke. I start walking down the river, following her, in case she runs into any trouble.

She comes to a pool where the river runs very deep, and dives down to the bottom, and then comes up again and continues down the river. I keep following.

Then she comes to a place where the water rushes in a torrent against a large rock. She gets pushed up against the rock, and held there, being battered by the water, for a few seconds. It seems like she can't get out, and I prepare to dive in and try to help, although already I recognize that it could be dangerous for me as well. Before I have a chance to jump in, she frees herself from the river and swims out to calmer water.

Seems that was enough of an adventure for Jenny, so she gets out and starts walking back up the river, where we meet. I tell her that I was following along, and she doesn't believe me, says it's impossible.

"I was being very stealthy," I say, joking. "But I was. I saw you diving down very deep a couple minutes back, and I saw you getting pummeled at that rock."

"Yeah, that was scary!" she says, and we start walking upriver back toward where we started, where apparently our group awaits.

We pass some tents, as if for some festival, where they have a particular traditional sweet treat laid out on tables. They are these big brownish blobs, like doughnuts, about the size and shape of a sea cucumber, but bigger. "I wouldn't normally do this, but since it's a special occasion...", I say, picking out two of the monster treats.

"I'll take the two that look most like big ol' turds," I joke.