Bridger's Oneironautic Expeditions

I'm with a friend and some others on the mountain skiing. I don't know why I'm skiing rather than snowboarding but I'm keeping up with everyone just fine anyways. We try getting some air off a side hit and it works pretty well. After navigating through a difficult part of the slope, we take a break. Someone asks me about my skis and I tell them how I haven't skied in over a decade now but it's just like riding a bike coming back to it. I remark to my friend how I should go put some sunscreen on as I can fell my face starting to burn.

I'm playing a role in a story I'm telling myself. The narrative involves the invention of gunpowder by a god, which is me. Some door must be opened and there are piles of explosive material right outside it. I toss some more closer to the door and then prepare a fuse. I spend a while experimenting with what seems to be the best combination of ingredients to spark correctly. I make little piles for each one on a tray then press down on it with a rod that has a hollow cone shape on the end. When pressed down all the way, the powder ignites. I find the best candidate and light the fuse, which is a trail of the gunpowder, using the same rod. The door explodes and I walk away towards the edge of a lake. I begin to fly, rising above the clouds thinking that this must be where the gods live. I see nothing but clouds though and end up getting a stomach lurching feeling looking back down at the ground. I fall fast and splash into the lake.