Showing posts with label mass transit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mass transit. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Ok, so nobody was after me personally in last night's dream and, back to the usual, I was nice and calm through the whole thing.

I'm in the military - I think I'm a pilot by training though I'm not sure I'm flying now. Probably AF but maybe another branch. I'm stationed at a stargate-like research facility on an island in a very wide but not terribly deep river that abuts a large metropolis (Minneapolis/St. Paul maybe except that the city's only on one side of the river). I'm returning to base from being on leave somewhere in a regional jet (smaller than a 737, maybe a 727?). The other passengers are civilians, I believe. I know the pilot (MO).

I'm watching out the window as we descend to land. We're low enough that I can clearly see the facilities hidden under the riverbed. The river was diverted over the flood plain to hide the facilities built underground there and, through the brown tinted but transparent water, you can clearly see the roads, buildings, etc. that used to be part of the community (but aren't anymore since it's, well, all flooded) from the air, particularly this low. The river is maybe 20' deep in most places. There is a airport in the middle - the tarmac looks fresh and the runways look like they run 36/18 and maybe 30/12. I know they're meant for smaller craft like fighter jets. I also see what I recognize as a troop transport (flat ferrylike boat with individual spaces painted on top like parking places).

I can feel us starting to flare to land but realize it's too soon, that we're not going to make the runway. I feel the pilot fighting the aircraft but the tail catches in the water, pulling the nose to the left. We make it out of the water but it feels like the aileron is stuck and we keep veering sharply to the left. We clip a couple phone poles and a tree or two. We finally knock a few windows out of one side of a skyscraper (with the tip of the wing) and come to rest quite normally on a side street facing the river, as if we were a car waiting to turn onto the main boulevard that runs along the river.

Everyone appears to be ok but they're starting to get up and want to get out of the plane. I order everyone to "SIT DOWN!" and identify myself as a military officer. I tell them that we need to wait for assistance. I go to the front of the plane and ask MO if there's a way to "crack a window" (i.e., get some ventilation) without turning the plane back on. He says no and asks me if I'm "playing it as a 5?" (Treating it as a potential terrorist threat.) I say yes - grateful that he remembered the number because I was wracking my brain for it and couldn't come up with it. This is why we can't leave the plane as, if it is a terrorist threat, it (and any suspects and evidence) needs to remain contained. People on the street (random passersby) are trying to open the doors anyway. (One looks like TB and is just as bullheaded as he is in RL.) The doors look like city bus doors though reinforced and not see through.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

I'm with a teenage boy (I'm that age as well) and we're goofing around inside a set of underground corridors - concrete walls, concrete floors - part of the infrastructure of a mass transit system. He's on a bike and I'm on foot.

He tells me to "watch this" and rides at the tollgate faster and faster. I'm laughing but telling him he's going way too fast and he'd better slow down or he'll hit the gate! The gate is a bent metal tube - similar to the tubes you see in handicapped bathroom stalls - but is hinged at the far end (so the end forms kind of a flap). He hits the flat with his shoulder and he flies right through, still on the bike. I throw my fare at the collector and take off after him.

Just after the tollgate, the hallway Ts - he goes left and I run right to confuse the security guard. The corridors form a square and we meet up on the far side, dashing into the women's bathroom seconds before the security guard rounds the corner. We're laughing our asses off at having fooled the guy.

We come out slowly as if there was no reason to hurry - I think he leaves his bike in the bathroom - and we head into an arena that's off the corridor. There is a basketball game going on. They're showing pictures of TB, as a former bball star, and his kid, CB, currently playing in the game. My friend and are totally jazzed on adrenaline and laughter.