Fantasy Trip

There I was, in Canada, and we had rented a little red car.  I guess the driver sat on the Right, because, in this fantasy, Canada, being British, the car must have been built in England(or some such illusion).  I was shifting with my left hand, and taking it for a spin to get used to driving, having a fun time, I might add.  It was chilly outside.  I found some back roads, driving until they turned into dirt roads,  enjoyed the blue skies and crisp air of the Canada countryside.  I noticed the trees disappear, as the hillside became steeper, and rise up to my right, higher than I could easily see.

I thought I saw some animals up along the hillside, and they were large.  I slowed, and recognized the creatures as bears.  I then saw that there were also machines on the hillside above them, pushing dirt and sand down the hill.  It was flowing down the hill in black and brown sheets, and the bear were moving across the hill foraging.  I continued watching and realized that the car was no longer moving along, but caught up in the sand and dirt.  The wheels were slogged in the  morass of sand and did not move the car forward.  The car slowed and just slid down the hill with the mass of moving dirt.  Caught in a landslide, I tried to gun the wheels, no use.  I let the dirt push me.  Turning the wheels did allow me to navigate the car like a boat might be steered in a river, so I navigated toward what I thought might be firm ground.  I continued working with the flow of the dirt.  The car swayed side to side, then I  put the car into reverse, pumping my way out onto some small road on the edge of this sand quarry.  The dark shadowy bears were still in the distance, lumbering back and forth searching for food while the steam shovels were continuing to push sand over the side of the steep mountain. As I drove back to the city relief flowed though my veins to feel the firm city pavement under the tires of the car,  to see the tops of the buildings, and to know I had survived this ordeal.