Greetings from Austin, Texas I want to say that I've enjoyed the last couple of hours exploring the Shroomery for the first time, in particular the candid and informative paragraphs in the Trip Tips section.
I want to say that I've enjoyed the last couple of hours exploring the Shroomery for the first time, in particular the candid and informative paragraphs in the Trip Tips section. The site is a useful addition to the psychedelic web library.
A few years ago, two friends and I had a riveting mushroom experience that I'm compelled to include on the Shroomery. This Level 2 experience rates highest as an exemplary "setting" experience rather than a psychedelic one; however, I think you will enjoy the trip.
Long after nightfall, John prepared each of us a "snack pack," roughly 2.5 dried grams of mushrooms. We consumed the packs and left John's apartment for a public wooded belt and bikeway, a "greenbelt" usually reserved for daytime leisure, biking, rock-climbing and exploration. We brought a small amount of cannibas with us for the inevitable nausea and to smooth the wrinkles from the sheets.
We entered the greenbelt on an overcast evening. Dark clouds completely obscured a large and looming summer moon. However, the clouds were cruising across the sky swiftly, and by the time we reached the flats of the dry river bed, the silvery bright light of our sister stone shed light on the entire park.The three of us paced around the rocky flat for 15 or 20 minutes, gradually accepting the "nonspecific restlessness" coming on. Suddenly, there was a disturbance. From the opposite side of the entrance to the park, flashlights glowed in the woods. The lights and their holders were moving. They were moving toward us. The sound of dogs was also clear. Nonspecific restlessness turned to some very specific fears.
I had eaten slightly less than the others and did not turn to run. However, I was holding the cannibas and feared that we might be violating a park curfew. Fortunately, we were prepared for a Level 2 experience only, and a conversation was feasible.
The flashlights continued toward us as three or four medium-sized dogs surrounded us. The dogs seemed friendly, and I assumed that 'official' canines would not arrive in packs of three or four (we discovered the number to be three or four LATER. At the time, it seemed like dozens or at best several).
Two figures completed their descent from the hill and passed us as if we weren't there. Nervously, I asked, "These your dogs??"
They walked on by.
We continued our pace as the couple walked on and seemed to make camp about 100 yards away. They were situated on a slight hill and slightly out of our clear view. We muttered to one another about the couple, the clearing of the dark clouds and the enlightening moon, letting our andreneline subside.
Again suddenly, there was a shreak across the greenbelt.
From the couple's campsite, we could see only shadows, but the man among them was standing on the hill holding a stick with both hands high in the air. From my vantage point, he looked like a Navajo warrior readying his constitution for battle and death. The scream was burning in my nerves. Again, he screamed a scream from deep within his gut, and the sound penetrated us as far.
The three of us began our exit from the park as the warrior screamed again. And again.
Then, the screaming stopped.
Out of curiosity I suppsed, the psychedelic warriors stopped as well. We waited and watched. Eventually, the couple began lighting small campfires on the bed of the river. They lit several, each several feet from the next.
Finally, we had an advantage. Behind thick shrubs, we gazed at the couple with all 9 eyes.
The mystery was over. The man set the ends of his stick into the fire and began spinning the stick like a circus performer. He spun the fiery staff over his head, sometimes using one hand, sometimes both.
We were as amazed and thrilled as you can imagine. We watched for nearly an hour as the man created blazing visions in the air for us and taught his (girl)friend how to juggle fire. Every 15 minutes or so, he'd stand on a rock and whistle across the greenbelt, and in no time we'd hear the dogs scrambling through the woods to meet their master.
Later, our Fire Warrior extinguished the flaming wands with his mouth, gathered the dogs with another whistle, and left with his friend in the same direction from which they'd arrived.
Needless to say, we considered the experience a positive one.