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PNW Trinidad Beach

The most beautiful trip ever

Over labor day weekend I went camping with some family. My brother managed to get a hold of some random mushies, and on the first day we chowed on a couple large caps. This would have been my second trip on mushrooms, so I didnt want to get too crazy because we were in public and the first time I tripped I was nice and safe at home in my basement. We began to walk down to the beach and thats when the mushrooms really started to get into my blood stream. Soon I was fighting off the feelings of puking because I really wasnt in the mood, or drunk enough, to puke comfortably.  I found that walking helped the nausea, and soon we were at the state park look out at patrick's point. This view was breathtaking without having mushrooms, but while on them it was even more magnificent. We were trying to be careful not to fall down the cliff, it felt at any moment we would be sucked into the water. I was happy at this point of the effect of the mushrooms, it was just the high I was hoping for without loosing too much cognition. Once we walked down to the beach we were laughing at most everything, and my brother was acting so funny running around with seaweed over his head like a huge head piece. We soon turned a corner as a huge fog bank settled over the coast, giving the beach a most magical presence.  The beach was crowded and the people looked like ghosts in the fog. Above them were trees that poked out from the fog that seemed to be growing directly above the ocean, and it looked like ewoks would be jumping aroud at any moment.  I knew I wanted to jump into the water, but I felt too uncomfortable at that point and didnt want to get wet. The sobriety I remember feeling just minutes before was dissapating, and would return in quick flashes that I couldnt hold on to.  I know now that it was just the ocean breeze pounding against me, but while it was happening, it was like a earth symphony of loud bass and strings that seemed to correlate to every plant and tree that was swaying in the air with the tune.  The sand on the beach was textured so wonderfully, with geometric designs streching out every angle. The color of the ocean tide was a marvelous aqua and teal and purple.  I could feel my vibration pushing against the wind pressing against me, and this could be seen as my eyes looked around and the waves from inside my brain danced out in a clear smoke like fashion.  But to get to the climax of the story, if anyone has ever been to trindad beach maybe they will understand, and if any of you havent I highly recommend going on a gorgeous summer day.  The weather was incredible, its why people live there. For the couple of months out of the year its like this.  The earth was revealing itself to me in the most incredible way. As if it was just enjoying the weather on its own schedule, and it knew just how beautiful it really was. The hills along the beach looked like multiple faces with flowing mustaches and hair and eye brows, looking out to the sea and taking it in.  As I saw these faces i realized just how high I really was and began to get a little paranoid, which definately ruined the trip. I couldnt tell if it was cold or hot, or if i was clean or dirty, or if people were looking at me or not. The only thing that saved me and grounded me was the busy port and group of fisher people going about their saturday.  I remembered who I was and why I was there, and that I was just a small part in something so huge.  Something that man only has little to do with. 

High Mountain Compost
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