I was about to go to work at a ski resort near the town where I lived. It was located on very steep terrain with sharp and pointy peaks, and jagged ridges. It seemed like a midsize locals resort. I went there on or shortly after opening day. I was going to work in their rental shop. It reminded me of the one at Timberline Lodge. I was very excited that I was going to work with some old friends again. On the long outdoor deck that overlooked a steep canyon, there were lots of people gathered, as if waiting for an event to start. Above and away from the deck, several people slid and fell into the steep canyon. I was surprised that there wasn’t much of a reaction from the crowd. I wondered if the people who fell over the cliff were alive or dead.
Along the rural highway to and from the resort, I stopped at a taqueria. It was after sunset. The taqueria was in an old white stucco standalone structure located in the middle of a parking lot that was half asphalt half gravel. Coworkers and friends were hanging around in the parking lot. I talked with some of them. Other similar buildings and trees surrounded the parking lot. It seemed that I have visited this neighborhood in previous dreams.
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