I asked my sexy, lady friend what she would rather do: mescaline or more huasca later in the evening. She couldn't decide. Secretly I was wondering how dangerous it would be to do both but wasn't really considering it as a possibility. I still felt quite euphoric, giddy and happy to be alive especially since the weather was so damn perfect. Nothing but blue skies this weekend. It still felt like I was rolling but I didn't feel the overwhelming satisfaction that I normally get the day after an aya experience. My mind hadn't been blown and I started wondering what went wrong. Was it the brew or was it the fact that smoking DMT had somehow desensitized me? I still don't know.
We eventually picked all the pine needles out of our hair, brushed ourselves off and headed down to the spring to wash up. It was cold as ice but I managed to clean my face and hands. I figured my feets could wait until we got home and so they stayed pitch black from constantly walking barefoot around all the soot. Muddy doesn't understand that he's not supposed to walk around in the water, up-stream from where mom and dad are cleaning up and appears to be chasing tadpoles. Banana wanted nothing to do with the freezing, mountain stream and stayed far away.
We began discussing our trips and I told her how I was slightly disappointed. She said it was her best ever and that having smoked DMT, it was much easier to let go and enjoy the trip rather than fight it by trying to make sense of it. She eventually decided that she'd rather leave well enough alone and that she didn't need any more for a while.
"In that case, I'm making salmon and eggs for breakfast."
"Fine by me" she says
We're already snacking on trail mix and oranges while the salmons grilling and eggs are scrambling when we see two hikers come trotting down from the ridge we'd been up on last night. Both holding hiking poles and carrying large packs so it was pretty obvious that they had been out for a while or at least had a ways to go. They were a father and son; Bert and Matt respectively, and this was their 7th day on the trail and also happened to be Matt's Birthday. His 15th.
"Well have I got a present for you" says I. I slide one of the salmon off the grill and pile on some scramby eggs next to it while wifey fixes a plate for his paw.
"Aw, we can't take this" says Bert
"Don't worry man. We were ditched by four other people; it's just the two of us. If not for the two of you, it'd go to the dogs." He looks down to see Banana hungrily drooling at his feet and gives a little chuckle.
The two of us have spent a fair amount of time on the AT so we know how rare a hot meal can be, not to mention salmon and eggs for breakfast. We sat around for a half hour, shooting the shit, talking about our experiences on the trail when they decided that they needed to get a move on. We inform them of how far they have to go before the next shelter and soon enough, after exchanging pleasantries, they're off on their way.
No sooner had they left than we see another hiker coming towards us from the opposite direction. I'm not wearing my glasses so I don't realize who it is until he's throwing his pack down next to my tent. It's Mike!!! Mother fucker not only managed to find the place based on my shoddy directions but even managed to drive a Geo Metro halfway up the ATV trail. Mike's one of those good friends that you can actually count on. A disgustingly rude, skinny, little rat-fink-looking son of a bitch but one of the most honest people I know. The kind of person that never says shit behind behind your back and defends you when other people do.
"You guys never answer your cell phone!"
"They don't so much work up here" says wifey
"You have no idea how long it took me to find this place. Your directions suck."
"Sorry" I say
"I've been in the fucking car since 5:00am."
"Dude, I'm sorry. Have some fuckin' eggs"
We sat down and continued our brunch and Mike tells me that they never drank the pedro juice as he pulls it from his pack.
"I wanted to save it so I could trip with you guys"
"Well we already ate all of ours last night" I say jokingly, "We were just about to mosey on home"
"The fuck you are! We're drinking this shit!"
"That's what I'm screamin', yo" and my better half grabs the nalgene bottle out of his hand. She goes in the tent and comes back with the two coffee mugs, the 3 mescaline caps and a huge smile on her face. I get off the cooler where I'm sitting and grab three oranges. Wifey pours two equal portions of the pedro tea into the coffee mugs leaving the third in the Nalgene bottle then hands me and Mike each a pill. We do our standard "Ziggy zaggy, ziggy zaggy, oy oy oy!!!" before throwing the caps in our mouths, chasing with pedro tea and finally biting through the skin of an orange. I swear, that cactus snot gets harder to swallow every time.
We go for a little walk around the meadow and show Mike where the spring is and where the AT crosses, all the while just jibber-jabbering, waiting for the come up. A few hours later, the signs of a strong mescaline trip began to make themselves apparent. We begin laughing like idiots and everything that comes out of our mouths is comedic genius. I don't remember anything that was said but it was all quite hilarious. After 3 hours of tripping, somewhere near 5:00 pm, I decided that I needed to go for a hike. Whenever I'm around company, tripping mescalito, all I can do is be immersed in conversation and the joy of bonding with friends but at the moment, I needed to be by myself for a while. Since Mike had shown up, I knew that I could dip off for a little while without them missing me too much and they could stay at camp to watch Banana. I told them that I was going to go for a barefoot run up to the top of my favorite mountain (that I'd mentioned before) and that I'd be back in two hours, tops. It's only a 4 mile hike round-trip and one that I'd done many times before.
While I was strapping Muddy's pack onto his back, my wife grabs the peyote laced everclear out of the cooler and pours three shots. I knew that each 1oz shot contained roughly 200mg of mesc and we'd already consumed something close to 750mg. I packed a bowl, smoked it to myself and then took my shot of black, cactus-flavored, liquor. I almost gagged. I tried getting one more hit from the bowl before giving my wife a kiss and heading on my way.
The trail up is rather steep but quite beautiful. Ferns were starting to grow on the sides of the trail, shooting up tender, little fiddle heads. I saw several young deer, a fox and a rabbit on my sweaty, little run. Muddy trotted along right in front of me as if he knew exactly where he was going- he's been here enough times, he should. Every once in a while I'd stop to admire how blue the sky was or how soft the grass here is. It's not until I reach the wide, open summit and take a break that I realize how hard I'm tripping. Intricate, yet transparent patterns twisted their way across the sky and ground. I start to laugh. Muddy is chasing grass hoppers. The ever-loving sun is cooking the back of my neck and I'm all alone up here. I go to the one, lone boulder up here that has the elevation marker embedded in it and stand up on top. Nothing around but beautiful blue ridge mountains and some red tail hawks gliding about. Simply beautiful.
I get my fill after only a few minutes because I'm looking forward to running the 2 miles back downhill more than anything. I ran down at break-neck speed, leaping from rock to rock and over logs, letting the downhill momentum carry me almost effortlessly. Even Mr. Mudflap was having trouble keeping up.
I return to camp a little before sunset to find my two companions engaged in a nonsensical, Kerouacian type conversation.
"So, you believe that our indesputiaries have indubitably, instigated insanity"
"Quite. But not so much to the extent of our fore bearers, forefathers or fore lorn frocks"
"Fore lorn frocks? Certainly you jest"
"If only I could jest. Then I might get some rest."
"From your pest?"
"No. From this nest which is the best"
"But I detest"
"Mind your abscess, lest we forget the request."
I listened to these two go at it for a good fifteen minutes before I said a word. I was starting to feel restless, uneasy and unable to find anything to keep my attention for more than a few seconds.....so I drank a beer.......and shot of rum........and another beer or two. Smoked another bowl, tried meditating to no avail,I borrowed a cigarette from Mike which was horrible.
"Baby, I'm gonna drink some of your ayahuasca!" I yell from the other side of camp.
"Fine. Just don't take too much."
I probably drank the equivalent of 75g of white vine, broken into two cups which I sipped on for 45 minutes. After that I felt much calmer. I was getting that lovely "aya drunk" that comes with maoi's and I was now able to meditate and drown out their incessant blather. Even so, I wanted to go lay in a shady spot on some soft grass while the moon was coming into view. Our campsite was mostly covered in pine needles so I got the idea to go lay by the spring by my lonesome. Without even thinking about it, I poured myself a coffee mug full of mimosa juice from one of the wine bottles. I don't know how the other two didn't see me because I had to open every bottle in the cooler to find the right one. I grabbed one more beer as a chaser and sauntered off through the lower meadow, past some old hog walls and found a comfy log by the stream to set my ass upon.......
--------------------
On storing pedro tea...
Brewmaster: Well, the mescaline will still be in there, but I'd be afraid of it conjealing and trying to escape after it grew in size from eating all the other shit in my fridge, and possibly my dogs if it got out.
Pithlit: sentient drugs, now that is an idea ...
OneMoreRobot: Idea? It's a fuckin' reality. You know Salvia? Nigga stole my TV.
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