I am in the Honda, Carlos is driving. Ray and Rob are in the backseat. We are driving in Michigan, in the UP, dog days of summer. We’re driving down a crappy paved road running along the left side of a farm. There are cows inside a chicken-wire fence. The road leads right into the side of a hill/mountain, and it’s clear that this is our destination, this tunnel.
I should say that I remember a cow going up on its hind-legs.
Except, instead of just taking the road, Carlos insists on going really fast up a small incline and attempting to jump the fence, where the cows are penned up. I see it as impossible, but he insists, so I say that I am going to walk ahead, and they can meet up with me in the tunnel. I end up walking for a good half-hour. It is jet-black in the tunnel, save for a few flickers of light up ahead.
I come to a large cavernous space in this tunnel, there is a huge cenote, or lake in this tunnel, and people are fishing, picnicking and drinking, having a gay-old-time, at this lake. Strange thing is, it’s dark as hell. I meet some people who are fishing, and grab a rod.
There was a sign that said, “Glimmering Lake”
Word comes down from someone on the other side of the lake that Carlos crashed the car and it had to be fixed, but their on their way. So I keep fishing, then, suddenly, the rock ceiling directly above the lake lights up, and everything is illuminated a dull blue.
I meet some old guy.