I'm driving with a couple women to someplace a few hours' drive away, as if up in Washington somewhere. I'm sitting in the back seat, on the passenger side, and the two ladies in the front. It's a route I have taken before, for a similar event I went to before. We stayed the night at the first place, and now are going to a second place. As we're driving alongside a beautiful river, I remark that we're making really good time. Last time I was with my friend Peter, and he had to stop and see someone, and it made it seem a lot longer.

Somehow we end up in a fancy modern church; not as if we intend to be there, it is just on our path. We go into the sanctuary and an usher leads us up some stairs to some seating, and I'm concerned that we are going to end up stuck for a sermon. But one of the girls traveling with me has somehow obtained the brown garb of a monk, and she is standing at a door in the back of the room. She beckons to me and the other girl, and we follow her out through the back.

We go through a lobby and then begin to descend some stairs, but I notice that off to the right is a different way to descend, a sort of ramp that is at waist-high alongside the stairs. It's about two and a half feet wide, dark in color, and grooved to make it easier to walk on. I jump right up on it, anxious to try out this new-fangled stairway. There's even a railing, though it's mounted in an awkward way such that I have to reach up with my left hand over my head to grab it. I shuffle my way down, but it isn't straight, it is shallower up here and then goes over a little bit of hill before becoming very steep at the bottom, and I'm afraid I'll fall off down there.