My mom is in the passenger seat and I am driving a cream coloured Wesfalia camper van. We are on what can only be described as a narrow footpath that hugs the side of a canyon. There is a sheer rock face rising up outside my driver’s window, and an abyss dropping down below the window on my mom’s side.

Somehow, the van stays on the path that is clearly too narrow for it. The impossibly narrow trail veers to the left and for some reason, my mom leaps out the passenger side of the vehicle, hanging on to the vehicle like a spider. I try to focus on navigating the corner, while yelling at my mother to get back inside the freaking vehicle.

As we round the corner an arch looms ahead. It looks like it’s made of huge styrofoam boulders, but is still way too narrow for the van. Mom is still hanging onto the outside of the vehicle, and I become more anxious as I try to coax her back inside. I’m worried she will be brushed off as we go under the arch. She re-enters through the window just as we hit the arch, and boulders fly everywhere.

The trail sharply descends, and we find ourselves parked on a sandy beach at the base of the bluff. I turn to my mom to give her a piece of my mind for being so reckless, but she has climbed out the window again.