The Rise and Fall of the Fireman’s Pole
Imagine this: it's 3:30 in the morning, and you're deep in some pillowy dreamscape. All is calm; all is serene. Then, a piercing alarm whiplashes your senses: you're awake now, scrambling in the darkness with ten equally frazzled men. In a flurry, boots are pulled on, helmets are snatched off shelves, and you're flying down a 20-foot pole with the rapidity and dexterity of a howler monkey.