Lakeside

Rock sat in the back seat of Ron's and Elaine's four-door Jeep, with the top removed, as they rode in a caravan of Little Rock Hashers and dozens of their vehicles on a winding lakeside road. Everyone behaved as if they were in the festive sorts of spirits typical of any Hash outing, and Rock was engaged enough to not have noticed Ron's wide right sweep onto an observation platform near the edge of the lake.
Ron suddenly veered left, and Rock looked to simultaneously see why he had made the adjustment and that it had come too late. In the next instant, the Jeep rolled down a ridge and into the lake. Water and panic washed across Rock, but he was easily able to swim away from the vehicle and saw that Ron and Elaine had also escaped. His fear vanquished, Rock swam to shore with Elaine by his side.
"What is Ron doing?" someone on the shore said.
"I don't know, but it doesn't look like a good idea," a Hasher nicknamed Amy Winehouse said.
Rock stood on the slick rock face of the shoreline and watched Ron dive straight down underwater toward his Jeep, which had come to rest at least fifty feet below.