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Traveling to the Moon

Migrated topic.

Psychelectric

Curiouser and curiouser
Through a canopy of trees starlight peaked through and illuminated a path that eventually would end up opening to the Gulf of Mexico. It was dark, but only at first. With shrooms gurgling in our bellies, the light was getting brighter. Our eyes were adjusting. Our minds were adjusting. Expanding and contracting with the oncoming rush of 6 grams of psilocybin cubensis.

This trip had started at a house about 3 miles from a nature trail. There were three of us. J, A and myself. We had 16 grams of mushrooms to split. J and I took 6 that had been pulverized and powdered to mix with our drinks. J poured his into a bottle of Atlanta's finest tap water (Dasani), while I mixed mine with Sobe's mango nectarine coconout juice. Our friend A (the lone girl of our troupe) decided to spoon 2 grams of powdered and 2 grams of dried into a shrimp pasta dish that we picked up about 15 minutes before from a local seafood joint. She ate about half of it before we hit the road and took the other half along for the journey.

A 3 minute drive led us to a gravel parking lot underneath a ceiling of trees. Like a cave made of the woods, it gave the perfect glimpse of the isolation the we would experience. A few cars wizzed by the path, oblivious to the paradise lying beyond.

We hit the trail drinking our drinks as we went along.

Darkness. Hissing.Critters moved and branches swayed. As we got further down the trail there was a pulse. An echoing of the energy inherent in nature. Through the trees the air began to shift like a theromostat gone haywire. A warm enveloping wind would give way to a shivering cold. It was a fascinating phenomena. As we trudged along we came up to a bog. The churning decay of water and marsh. The gaseous stench, bubbling from the muck. We kept walking letting the glory of all of this nature consume us.

Then we saw it.

The moon. As full and gorgeous as it could be. Low and gold on the horizon like playing peek-a-boo with the trees. The more we walked the more the trees began to thin out, eventually giving way to the night sky, as crystal clear and bright as it could be. There were more stars out than could possibly be counted. Galaxies, planets nebulas. The beauty of it all was unfathomable. In my mind I could pircture the other people in far away galaxies looking at our star like the little speck it is, just like we were looking at their star for the speck that it is. Flickering and strobing like pinholes in a great cosmic blanket.

Before we made it to the beach, we found our sanctuary. A two story gazebo. We set up camp there. A finished her meal. I set down my guitar and coat. I kicked off my shoes (as is tradition in barefoot hippie circles), then we walked. J brough along his laptop.

To the first beach. The gentle beach.

It was a short walk to dunes and trees. Not massive trees like there were on the trail, but short leafless trees. Gnarly and alien, hoisted up on dunes. We decided to chill in this spot for several songs. I don't even remember what music we listened to. The noise from the laptop was secondary to the pulse of the world around us. THe starts were sparkling as faint hints of purple and green edged out. THe golden moon was bright and getting brighter. We started at it for some time letting our minds take us there. To be on that rock staring back at the earth. The cool sand felt good. But this breif break would only last so long, and then we had to continue.

To the second beach. A beautiful paradise of sand and sea.

We walked again, through a trail of dunes. With tiny plants that was impossible to tell if they were trees or bushes. In my mind, they were coral and we were underwater. The landscape began to get more and more alien. Not the familiarity of trees and surf, but a twisty winding path amonst plants that had to been lifted from another world. Was I a fish, swiming in the deep blue sea, amongst coral? As we navigated the coral we headed for an open area that was like a great bowl surrouded by massive sanddunes, like God's own sandbox. We walked through hills. As we walked there were thin red ropes marking a path, so you wouldn't get lost. They led towards a notch in one of the great dunes. We walked towards it and stepped over. The beach. Flat sand stretched on and on. Ripples from previous tides and footprints zigzagged accross the ground. As my friends moved, I saw them flicker and shudder like echoes of themselves. The wind was howling and it was cold. I had spent a lot of time looking at the sand, when I decided to look up. The sky began to shimer and ripple like the lines in the sand. Everything began to blur and twist and move. The waves rushed in and out and the sky rode along. In this area me all began to wander like lost souls across the dessert, curious and introspective. The wind kept and conversation down. I watched my friends twist and shapeshift. When they were talking there mouths did not sync up with the words. The sky began to merge with the ground and everything began to echo.

Then we walked back. The rush was going on, and coming on strong, like a tsunami on my psyche. A little trepidation hit me, but not too much. This is what I came out there for. A trip. And a glorious trip it would be.

We meandered back through the coral forest, across the gentle beach and to the safety of the Gazebo. In this long walk, little words were spoken. Our minds wandered and danced with fantasises and whimsy. I lost myself in the swaying of still trees. Everything was waving. Things that couldn't possible be waving were. The forest in the distance undulated and twisted. Then we made it to the Gazebo. We walked up the steps and looked out into the forest.

Holy shit.

The gaps between the trees were like great voids, mouths to the darkness that kept opening and closing. Gyrating and swaying. I could feel my eyes begin to cross with the magnitude of it all. I wanted to lose myself and let the universe consume me. I laid down on the wood panels of the structure and lost myself in the visuals behind my eyelids. Patterns ancient and archaic twisted out like is the fractals of some sacred geometry were woven into bricks, yellow and purple and green and red. Twisting and spinning. Diamonds. Squares. It was beautiful. While I was losing myself in this J and A were hunting for a lighter to spark up the bud that we brought along. There was no lighter but there were matches in the car. So we decided to walk back to the car.

The trail was wild, becuase the woods were bent. The world was bent. It felt as if I was walking at a 45 degree slant. The woods felt like they were filled with all of the magic and whimsy of a childhood wonderland. Though instead of Cheshire cats we got cranes.

After we procured the matches, we made it back to the gazebo.

The moon was almost as bright as the sun. Huge and gold. The whole forest was lit up like a spolight. As we peered over the balcony of the gazebo we heard birds and fish. While all of this was happening we saw a bright fishing boat with lights so brillant that it seemed like a megayacht. Over the course of an hour the boat got closer and closer and even with all of the brilliance we realized that it was a tiny boat with possibly only 2 fisherman on it.

We rode the rest of our trip out, marveling at the beauty of nature, conversating about the magnitude of our great and glorious universe and me playing some alien blues on my guitar along the way.
 
Yeah I'm a big fan of high shroom doses. Though at that stage set and setting is absolutely crucial. The beach that we went to is always deserted at night. It's too dark to walk 2 miles through the woods. We were lucky that there was an amazing full moon and a friend of mine already knew the beach. Also having eaten the shrooms made the night a little brighter. 😉 .
 
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