I'm on a bus with someone, and something is happening, perhaps a scuffle among the passengers. I comment that something interesting always happens on the bus.

I go to the beach, and take a swim in the surf. It's nice and warm, and the waves are perfect for playing in, not too big and not too small. But then I realize my wallet is still in the pocket of the trail pants I'm wearing, soaking wet by now, and I get out to remove it.

I go over to something like a wooden changing hut and I meet Cynde, my climbing friend, except she's taller in the dream than in real life. She tells me it's dinnertime, and that I'd better go eat. I really want to continue swimming, and I debate with myself whether I should have dinner first. Seems the waves will still be there after dinner.

My pants appear to be all worn out in the seat area. The fabric is very thin, almost threadbare, but you can only tell when the light is right. They will need to be replaced.

(Just got down from Adams, forgot my plastic and had to glissade in my waterproof pants. One small tear resulted, and I noticed my trail pants also have lost some stitching. Remembered, though, to move my wallet into my pack so it wouldn't get wet.)