Pogo Stick & Wolves

I was in a resort, out west, and had arrived by car. I took the backroad and praised myself for doing this because of the closeness one experiences the countryside. The resort had a large hotel and bar that resembled by the Deere and Company Administration Building- all glass and steel. Inside the lobby area I stumbled across old friends who were drinking beer as though it were years ago when we did such things. My friends had aged and just when I was about to remark on the gray hair one had on his beard I excused myself to go outside and jump around on a pogo stick. Jumping high and long, I impressed all those from the bar who were looking at my antics- including my friends. Eventually made it down to another part of the resort where I recall meeting up with other people. Someone from this group had ventured into the mountains nearby and there was a feel of concern for them. I did the same thing, but with my pogo stick. I bounced my way up a large foothill with sparce pine trees and looked around. Over the horizon, I could see fog or some kind of storm brewing in the distance and looking in another direction saw large packs of wolves roaming close nearby. Then- quickly rushed back to the nearest cliff and jumped off and pulled a parachute to land safely near the resort again.