This is a report of my first mushroom experience, which took place about 3 years ago, so the details are hazy. You'd think that I'd remember it clearly it being my first decent trip and all, but it was pretty overwhelming and I probably wouldn't have been able to relate it much better right after the fact. This was definitely beyond a level 3, but not quite a level 4 as it doesn't meet all the criteria. Anyway, on with the story.
I had already taken LSD twice, probably within the last month or two, with not much effect. Certainly not the awesome intensity of what I am about to relate. Having just gotten into psychedelics, I was intrigued. In no way was I prepared for what would happen.
I was around 17 at the time, my tripping partner a year or two younger. We got a few eights of mushrooms, and planned to meet at his school the next day. It was near the end of the year, and that day was when everyone skipped. It turned out not to be the greatest idea, but it worked out ok.
I anticipated the trip like nothing else, so much that I got no sleep the night before. That probably contributed to level of my trip, but since I had no idea how much I took and haven't tripped on no sleep since, who knows.
I headed out to the school to meet up with him, and when I got there it turned out he had already dosed (in class!!) So it didn't get off to a good start, as I felt a little weird about that. Not weird enough to let it affect me, just sorta bummed. If you're tripping together you dose together, right?
It didn't help that he had a gaggle (well 4 or 5) of fairly obnoxious friends with him. Of course, they were sober and knew we were high, so of course in high school tradition they had to fuck with us. It turned out not to be so bad.
This was actually my first trip with visuals. The LSD had yielded some brain action but not much in the way of visuals (far from necessary, but a nice touch). As we headed down to the water, we began to get high. Reality began to not quite be the same anymore.
By the time we hit our destination, things were getting weird. Our environment was quite nice for tripping -- as we headed to the water, we passed a park, then a long stretch of grass past which was some wooded area. Not much, but enough. We were certainly still in the city, but had enough nature surrounding us to make things magic.
There was a set of stairs going down to the water that split the wooded area in half. The stairs had a plaque at the very top, which interestingly enough read "Dose Terrace." A coincidence? I'm sure *plenty* of people have tripped there.
Before we were able to get rid of his friends we hung out in the wooded area and drank 40's -- woo. Of course I didn't and I doubt my friend did, although I really can't remember. That was when I really started to get high, and just couldn't deal with the people anymore.
Somehow they left, and we spent a good deal of time at the top of the stairs. I was pretty much ooh'ing and aah'ing and the whole nine yards, and my friend had to remind me several times that we probably didn't want to draw attention to ourselves.
We goofed around and enjoyed the trip, and quietly discussed what was happening. I started to stare at his face, and started to see his flesh get eaten away. I shared this, but naturally it wasn't really something he wanted to hear. I attempted to read (god knows what, I think a dilbert comic book actually) but that wasn't too interesting or successful.
Unfortunately we only had one walkman, which was his. I hadn't discovered the magic of music in altered states, and when he shared it with me, it was something else. I put on the headphones to Jimi Hendrix, and walked down the stairs. Woah. It's hard to describe, but it was intense -- it was very groovy, and engulfed my entire reality. As I walked down the steps, they became alive and rolled beneath my feet, spasming and growing, very much alive.
We walked down to the water, and my friend got it in his head to take a swim -- there's no way in hell I was doing such a thing. I could barely stand to walk on the dock. It was about that time that I began to lose contact with reality, not visually but mentally. I could certainly no longer communicate. I insisted we head back up to the long stretch of green, somehow -- probably just by seeming somewhat panicked with a sense of urgency.
I then proceeded to get higher than I had ever been in my life, and that trip has not yet been surpassed in intensity and enjoyment -- I suppose that's the way it is when you first get really high. Back up at the stretch of green (not a golf course) things were wacky. A bunch of obnoxious fellows learned we were "shrooming", so of course had to announce to the entire universe. Thankfully, I was so far gone at that point I did not care, they could not phase me.
The trip was entirely positive even with all the shit going on around me, I was just in complete awe and nothing seemed to break the magic spell that was over me. I smoked a cigarette, and never realized it could be so enjoyable and satisfying. The tall grass around me was growing rapidly and feathering out continiously.
We headed back up to the school and somehow we split up, which was bad but turned out just great. I walked along a main drag, immeresed in a queer, morphing psychedelic world. As cars drove past, they would completely change from one shape and color and morph into an entirely different vehicle. This astonished me, I was utterly perplexed. Houses were very surreal (to say the least) but didn't morph like the cars speeding down the road.
I walked for what seemed like hours, and got completely lost -- even though I'd only walked about 8 blocks in a straight line from the park. I thought I'd never make it back to the school, and calmed myself with the fact that I would come down sometime and be able to get home, but where would I be when that happened. Somehow I made it back.
When I arrived, school was getting out and there were all these large orange things which I finally recognized as school buses. This got a little weird, I felt as though *every* bus driver and school administrator was looking at me -- in fact, they were visually, but apparently not in reality, as my friend relayed when I finally ran in to him. He was a bit concerned, and had actually come down for the most part, but I was still flyin' high.
We hopped on his bus as they were all about to leave. I didn't actually go to the school, but the bus driver didn't seem to care. I think he knew I was on something, anyway. In fact, the whole bus probably did as I was still in another place without much ego to speak of. The bus drive was the longest ride imaginable. I thought I was never coming down. The bus drove through some very timeless and futuristic territory -- the revelations were astounding.
Centuries later, we arrived back in our neighborhood, and ended up at the coffee house we were essentially living at ;) I was still in no position to be communicating much, and barista knew right there what was up, for we'd obtained the mushrooms from him. He knew I was groovin' on it.
And that was it, or rather that wasn't it -- there's no way I can even begin to describe the trip as it tunneled through my brain, but I've tried. All I know is that it was the most fantastic experience of my life -- literally. I've taken higher dosages, but never quite reached the same effect, although I've been catapulted into outer space it just wasn't as profound, intense or enjoyable.
I've been able to remember a great deal more than I had originally and although I've left bits out, they aren't of importance -- they mostly involve everyone finding out I was high -- as if I cared. I congradulate you for your diligence if you've read this far, I certainly don't expect anyone to. But if you have, I hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.