Volcano Soccer

I dreamed that I was playing soccer at a mountain retreat. The game didn't last very long, as most of the players were even more out of shape than me. 

I spent a lot of time kicking goals from a grassy slope whose downhill run gave me a little advantage approaching the other team's goal. After a bit the other team stopped defending if I got the ball while I was up on that slope. 

As we walked back across the valley, I looked up and noticed that there was smoke and lava coming from the mountain top. The lava was pouring down the slopes and two molten streams were heading right for our little valley, and another stream was headed for a valley across a low ridge where the women's camp was located. 

Since I was in the best shape (and that's pretty sad) I volunteered to run over and warn them. 

The next part of the dream was spent running across the ridge, down across a little ravine, where the bottom was all ready filling with a hot tarry ooze. I worried about there being gasses so took some deep breaths and held my breath as I picked my way down the shallow ravine and stepped over the tar from boulder to boulder. 

I was completely out of breath when I finally jumped up out the other side. I started calling out to the women's camp as I got close, waving up towards the lava flow when I finally managed to get someone's attention. 

I could barely jog the las couple of hundred yards to their camp, and by that time, they had loaded up all their vehicles and left. I stood there in their little valley, wondering how the heck I was going to get out myself, since none of them had waited for me.  

I looked back over in the direction of the men's camp, and there was all ready a tendril of lava headed through the shallow ravine I'd just crossed. There was no way I was going to run back.

I scoured the storage garages, hoping there was some sort of camp vehicle, like a golf cart, anything.  The only thing I found was a rack of kayaks and a bunch of hang gliders, rolled up in their tubes. It was obvious that they hadn't been used in a very long time.

I started putting together one of the hang gliders, figuring that would be the fastest way down the mountain. I called back to the camp to make sure my friends were evacuating and not waiting for me. I needn't have worried, they were all so busy packing and driving out that no one picked up the phone. That was when I wondered why we hadn't just called them in the first place.

I wondered, as I took off with the mountain on fire behind me, if I should try to glide back over to the camp where my car was parked, or if I should just glide strait down the mountain. I hated the idea of leaving my car and camera. I decided as I picked up altitude that I would fly over in that direction and see how close the lava was to the camp. 

It wasn't close, but the road was all ready smoking just a bit further down the hill. There was no way I would be able to drive my car out, and I figured that landing and trying to make a second successful takeoff would be tempting fate just a little bit too much. I whooshed over the camp, out over a stream of lava, the camp looked like it just might survive, as the lava was passing through the valley on one side and another ravine on the other. I could feel the heat rising off of the lava so turned gently down slope into the wind, causing me to suddenly gain altitude. I could see the stream of cars headed down the mountain. Lava poured down into the  ravine that the road snaked around. 

I hoped they would be able to get off the mountain before the lava overflowed onto the road at the bottom.