Before I get into the details of a fictional event, let me mention that the Black Diamond X Boot I reviewed did not go through a test I would have imagined until just recently.  I can now confidently say that if I ever have to walk 100 meters in sand, this boot is not bad to have on.

Now into my dream, partially inspired by the Motion Picture Inception, featuring the lovely Marion Cotillard.

The alarms ring and I’m in the new firehouse.  The bells sound different, but the feeling is the same, “Where am I and where am I going?”

Lights flashing, the engine winds it’s way around the access roads until we reach the parking lot of the beach and the ambulance responding with us is close behind.  We pull into the empty lot expecting to see someone looking for us but no one is there.

The screen tells us the person is conscious and able to walk, but has yet to present themselves to where they said they were going to be.  As we sit, lights flashing, clearly visible for at least a half mile, my mind wanders back to the nice warm bed back at the firehouse.  Perhaps I’m still in my bed and this is all a dream?

Just then the PD come roaring into the parking lot, open a locked gate and wave us through.  Even in my dreams we don’t take the engine into questionable places.  Good for us.

The ambulance crew, my EMT and I grab the gear and begin to hike down to the point where a wide staircase awaits us.

Still no one visible despite our flashlight beams and calls in all directions.

We are met with only silence and darkness.

“We’ll go this way,” the officer motions to the west, “You go that way.”

“In your dreams” is what I meant to say and, in fact, deeper I went into this new dream, now walking east, seeing another officer’s flashlight many meters ahead.  I suddenly notice I’m in heavy boots.  Looking down, the reflective stripe on my pants is now blinking and I wonder why.  Looking back up the officer ahead is doing the signature “over here” wave with his light.  It sparkles like a star in the night sky above.

The crew follows as we radio ahead to see if extra equipment is needed.  The response is vague, stating only “He OD’d.”

This deep into the second dream, time is slower.  Each step seems to get me 1/2 step closer to the victim, but we’re all traveling at the same speed.  Almost like when you try to escape in a dream, but your legs won’t respond.

Finally reaching the small bon fire 3 fellows sit, arms on legs, talking to the officer who now uses his flashlight to take notes.

“Someone laced my weed, man, I need help,” one of them says, standing and brushing the sand off of his pants.

Turning to the ambulance crew I mutter, “I have to be dreaming,” and I fall deeper into the dream this man is having, where smoking weed for 3 days straight, running out and realizing it is cold and a long walk home merits a 911 call.  Trapped in his dream I have limited options and have to do what he wants.  It’s his dream.

The walk through the darkness is aided by flashlights and a comforting arm under his, making the trek easier by far.  For him anyways.

We complete the 100 meter walk back to the flight of stairs, when he changes his mind and wants us to leave him alone.  It seems his dream is beginning to unravel at the seams.  The arm he has been leaning on through the sand and up the stairs is now forcing him forward, up to the ambulance.  What began as a simple question and answer session surrounding his health and well being has now devolved into a shouting match.  The beach disappears in a flash of bright light and he now lays calmly on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, trying to regain the nice dream he had been having, leaning on another and borrowing light to make the trek back to the parking lot.

I’m back in the Officer’s dream now, his hand on his cuffs, ready to spring into the back of the ambulance and restrain the uncooperative man with any means necessary.  From my vantage point outside looking in, he can use all manner of holds, strikes and language to make the situation safe, whereas if I even use colorful tone I could get in trouble.  If this was my dream…

…I’m back in the engine, returning to the station.  The sun will be rising soon and I can feel the warmth of my sleeping bag as if I was in it…

…and then I awake.  In bed.  At work.

It seemed so real, but it was only a dream.

When I took my boots off the engine however, they were covered in sand.  How is that possible?

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