Here continues the second part of the story that is my last trip on acid, last fall in Oregon. Most of the rest of the trip occurred in the dab room, the bathroom or in our tent. Upon returning to the property from our adventures, we immediately took to the smoke room(which was really just half of a shed) for some dabs. We were all deep into the experience and needed a break having just ran through the woods in near darkness while under the influence. The run back was both gorgeous and haunting, due to the appearance of the Oregon forests in that area.
The dab room was a small room that had a few tables on the edges(at that time) with chairs filling the rest of the empty space. I'm pretty sure there were a few people dabbing in there at the time, but they cleared out fairly quickly. John ended up in the dabbing chair, which wasn't actually called that until that night. We were all talking and laughing about something, which made dabbing difficult. Each dab took several attempts, as we'd get lost in watching the nail cool down or something else silly would happen. When he finished dabbing, he instinctively got out of the seat and moved aside for someone else to sit down to dab.
That next person was me, and I somewhat got lost in the visual effect of the torch heating the nail. My dream has always been to be a glassblower, so watching the effect of the heat filling the quartz piece we used to dab was captivating for me. Every time I blow glass I am reminded of doing dabs on acid. I finished my dab, not without laughter and moved out of the dab chair.
D, the hippy who was tripping with us got into the dab chair next and commenced doing his dabs. Realistically, he sat there laughing for awhile, which got someone(possibly me) on his ass about taking too long. Someone said a comment along the lines of "If you're in the dab chair, you better be dabbing. If not, get out." At this he laughed harder, and honestly struggled through his dab while he was struck by the irony. Until that point, no one had called it the dab chair. Once it was brought up, you couldn't help but laugh. It was like a game of musical chairs, but involving just one and dabs.
At some point in the hysterics, a property hippy we'll call A showed up to dab, taking the dab chair himself. We joked about the dab chair and he laughed as if he had already thought of it. I'll take a moment to describe A as he's worth describing. He was a train kid, that is one of the many young people who leave home to ride trains illegally cross country, or sometimes cross continent. He had train tracks tattooed on his arm, that he called his track marks to prove his claims. Looking at him, you could believe he was a train kid as he was covered in dirt and grease. The one time he made the whole house dinner, he scrubbed his hands and arms, revealing pasty white(and slightly red from all the scrubbing) skin. He wore the same greasy outfit every day, although he'd sometimes remove the oily tattered jacket, to reveal a vest with a Doctor Who patch on the back. He had long hair with some dreadlocks and a beard that gave him almost cartoonish features.
He had a personality that was quite strange, as well as interesting. I'd never encountered someone quite like him so when I first saw him I was a bit floored honestly. He was probably the dirtiest hippy I had ever seen. We found out he was dating a guy on the property, someone we ended up having problems at that house, although he liked girls as well. Until that night on acid I had really only had generic interactions with him. As we found out more about him, he later became one of the people we respected most on that property.
I asked him why he didn't want to trip with us and he answered in the strangest way possible. "I'm already there man" he said with a grin and a laugh that I can't really describe by text. I couldn't help but laugh with him for several seconds before I asked him what the fuck he was talking about.
"I never left" he said, as he explained that a couple years before, during his time partying and being a general dirty hippy at hippy hill, he stumbled on something he wasn't supposed to see. At some point in our friendship, he mentioned that he was commissioned to be the guy to carry buckets full of LSD through the woods to rainbow gatherings, so he was involved to a certain extent. But this particular night, he saw something he wasn't supposed to and whoever caught him mega-dosed him with what was probably thousands of hits of acid. They reportedly dumped him in the forest by himself where he tripped harder than anyone should for a good while from my understanding. According to him, he's always in a tripping mindstate, no matter what he does to try and change it.
In my LSD influenced mind state, I was instantly floored at what that must have been like. As I pondered this he started to laugh in his way that kind of suggested insanity and all at once I understood A. When I looked at the expression on his face I truly understood that he wasn't kidding, he truly was in a tripping state of mind all the time. It explained a lot of different aspects to his personality that before just didn't make sense. I guess when he told us this story, John thought he was messing with us. I was sitting next to him and I saw the look on his face when he was telling us what happened, he wasn't kidding. I'm not saying he was permanently on acid, but I am saying that his mind damn near got reprogrammed to a tripping state of mind that night. It was extremely reminiscient of the government trials in the mkultra mind control program in the United States.
At many points throughout the trip, partially due to the nearly party like atmosphere which we were dealing with, I found myself retreating to the only place I could be truly alone, the bathroom. I'd go to the bathroom and ponder the feelings I was having during the trip, as well as my life situation. I generally spent a little while in there, as it seemed like I couldn't think anywhere else on the property. I retreated to the bathroom repeatedly throughout last several hours of the trip, basically once we returned to the property. One one of these trips a child stopped me to ask what the word crazy means, as everyone was talking about the crazy man's house at the top of the hill. I tried to explain it to her and was struck by the irony. I couldn't help but laugh and walk away.
At the time, there was music and a fire(a trash fire, but still a fire which was nice as oregon was just coming out of it's most flammable season) that people were congregating around. A woman I'll call B came in, which caused everyone to clear out, although I didn't quite understand why at the time. John was probably just drawn to the fire, or something else, but I know I ended up alone with this girl at this point in my trip. She was a new mother of twins, daughter in law to the lady that owned the house. I'm not sure on her exact age but I think it's a few years younger than me, at the least.
She instantly unloaded about the amount of pain she was in from her new job, motherhood. Her hips ached, she was exhausted and hungry, and had a headache because her husband was too busy doing anything he could to keep from taking care of the babies. I helped her to some dabs, as she still consumed cannabis products for medical reasons at that point. Her parents, who happen to be medical patients themselves, threatened to call child protective services on her if she continued to use cannabis while breastfeeding. This happened not long after this trip, which led to B not spending any further time in the smoking room.
Something I was floored about when I moved to Oregon was the high number of unprepared young mothers I was dealing with. This woman was just one example, there was a family friend who had a child when she didn't even like kids, as a 17 year old girl. The woman of the house had reportedly had 5 children, with a couple of different dads. She was from what I can tell a hot hippy chick when she was younger, who got pregnant repeatedly. Child protective services pulled some shady business to apprehend and rehome two of her children, so she was left with only the two youngest and her oldest son, who happened to be the husband of this woman with twins.
I myself come from a mother who didn't really consider much when she had children, other than the fact that she happened to be pregnant and she didn't believe in abortion. My Mom had 5 kids with 5 different Dads, and honestly none of us turned out very good. My sister had a child with an asshole, then turned around and had a different child with a different psychotic asshole(this child, who is now being raised by a different man...) when she's not really able to afford herself. I used these things as lessons to show me not to venture into motherhood until I'm ready. I plan to be a mother, for sure within the next 10 years, but I'm not dumb enough to venture down that path until I'm for sure ready to. I don't mean to offend anyone, but I do wish people considered all aspects of motherhood before they embark on it. It would save the world a lot of damaged children.
In my previous conversations with B, she gushed about how she has wanted to be a mom her whole life and how she is just now fulfilling that dream. She seemed happy on the surface, although full of anxiety as she expected only one child out of her first pregnancy, not two. Now we were in the smoke room, where she was really stoned and unloading about the not so cheery side of what she's dealing with.
She told stories about her pregnancy, one memorable one being her hair. I guess when she was pregnant, she threw up on her hair repeatedly in one morning. In her half crazy pregnant mind state, she cut off the hair she threw up on and continued with her day. She reportedly went to the doctor who told her to attempt to conceal her crazy a bit more than she was. She eventually cut the rest of her hair to match, and apparently conceal her crazy. I looked on her chin length hair cut with a new, slightly disgusted perspective.
She talked about the effects of the pregnancy on her body, and honestly showed me more than I wanted to see. She was a small framed girl, so having twins had taken a lot out of her. Her stomach had split from stretch lines pretty extremely, which kind of maimed the appearance of her stomach. Seeing this on acid was enough to remind me why I had waited to have kids, I was not yet ready do deal with any of that.
As she rambled on more and unloaded, I was floored at the side of pregnancy and mother hood that many people do not consider when they have children. Pregnancy is an extremely intense physical thing to go through. Being a parent is the single most important thing any one person can do in their lifetime. The mark you leave on this world is on your kids, and if you have children before you are ready it will show with how they turn out. I learned this watching my mother, and watching many women like her that I have met in the last several years. Motherhood isn't just something you jump into because you're already pregnant.
She soon had to go back inside to tend to her two screaming babies. After some more dabs, I decided I had enough and went outside by the fire myself, finding John. He was standing watching the fire, which was pretty interesting in an acid induced mind state. Running around, greeting everyone by the fire was Rebel's sister, we'll call Bobo(it was a playful nickname I had for her, nothing like her actual name). She was the first puppy I had seen out of his litter. My interactions with her essentially sold Rebel to me, who arrived about a month after this experience. At the time of the trip, I was in negotiacions with John's family member to get him.
I played with Bobo, who ran around my feet and bit at my hands in excitement. In my excitement for the coming Rebel Dog, I played with her a lot and she and I became pretty close. By the time she left, she was known for breaking in to say hi just about every morning. When we lived in the tent, especially after we got Rebel, she'd come up and attack it until we got up. When we moved to the shed on the property, she was known for nosing her way in to steal Rebel's bone every morning.
Eventually, the night wore on and John and I retreated to our tent. We spent the next several hours cuddling and having sex, as is common on these sorts of drugs. He soon fell asleep, wheras I was not able.
At one point, when we were coming down from our experience and attempting to sleep, we felt a rumbling deep in the ground. It resonated with our still drugged minds, increasing in intensity. The property we were staying on was right next to train tracks, and there was always a train at that time of morning. We felt it much earlier than we normally would, and it was a crazy experience to be honest. I was struck by the irony of being on the run, on acid strapped to a shaking mountain in Oregon. As the vibration of the ground grew more intense I understood that it was just a train nearing, although it felt like a jet engine was going by me instead of a train when it happened. Having seen Bob Motz with his famous jet semi repeatedly throughout my childhood, I have that reference to compare it to that many don't. It was a surreal feeling to say the least.
Due to all the smiling I had done that day, I had an extreme migrane. I've noticed after experiences of this nature, while I have a lot of fun I generally end it with a headache that makes sleeping difficult. This acid experience was actually my first one where I had dabs available. I resolved to try and use them to help my headache, so I could sleep and recovery physically from the experience.
I grabbed our dabs and walked slowly to the dab room, which was empty at the time. I sat there dabbing for awhile, until I felt like the pain was reduced enough for me to sleep. I'm not sure how many dabs it took me but I know it was a lot. I went into the main house to use the restroom before returning to bed, where I was greeted by the man who gave me the acid. As it was like 7 in the morning, he was getting started for the day. He noticed my dishevled state and asked me how the trip was. I just responded with a thumbs up and continued to the bathroom.
After that I retreated to the tent and passed out until mid afternoon. The dabs had made a world of difference in making it so I could sleep, and I woke up feeling much better. We discussed our later experiences with D, who reportedly went to the woods to watch the light show in the sky the night before. I recounted A's story and John expressed he thought he was lying. Like I said previously, I don't believe he was lying although I'm not sure I would have believed him had I NOT been under the influence of the same drug he was mega-dosed with. He was a crazy looking guy that kind of left you guessing in many ways. By the time we left, he was one of our favorite people to interact with on that property, partially because we are originally from a similar part of the country.
All of our experiences at that house were pretty crazy, but the acid trip was kind of the cherry on top. We had a great experience, and if I could get my hands on more of what we took that day here, I would in a second. I strongly have the urge to take some on our mountaintop here, so I can get the experience I was really looking for that night on that mountain in Oregon. Out of all of the psychedlic drugs I have taken, I've enjoyed LSD the most consistently, probably followed by mdma, which is actually an entheogen. It offers the most pleasant mind perspective with minimal physical side effects. I've never felt nauseous or sick on LSD, and the closest thing I've had to a hangover from it is a headache(from my broken jaw) while feeling tired. This last trip left a lot to be desired, while still being a fun and memorable experience all it's own.
