This is the story of an adventure undertaken by a psychedelics user.
At 5:40 PM, I ingested 2.9 grams of slightly damp psilocybin mushrooms at a friend’s residence. Shortly after consuming the magical fungus, my friends and I made our leave and walked back to my own residence at a brisk pace. The air was not warm, and this coupled with my fast walking caused me not to feel the initial come-up. After a quarter-hour of travel we arrive at our destination and I am coming up hard. I sit down at my computer and initiate play of the song Sheep by Pink Floyd. I’m tripping hard at this point, and some serious visuals are manifesting in front of my open eyes.
Between approximately 6 and 7 PM, I had a very fun and entertaining time listening to music, chatting, smoking cannabis and thinking. Earlier in the night, my friend N, who is also tripping shrooms, decided with me that we should go to a particular chain retail electronics store. It’s probably about 6:45 PM now, and driving is absolutely out of the question for me. My normal cognitive state is out on vacation, and decision-making is not easy. With some difficulty, I reintroduce the idea of going to the aforementioned store. Our group at this point comprised the following: myself and N (both tripping), and three others (stoned). Only one of the stoned individuals was in possession of a properly-sized-and-fueled automobile, so there wasn’t much decision-making necessary. As we’re about to leave, our would-be driver, L, mentions off-handedly that he’s not a great driver. I assumed he was being facetious, but the next hour would prove me very, very wrong.
After walking to where L had parked, I caught the first glimpse of our ride. It was a late ’80s Honda sedan. Automatic seatbelts. No real safety features to speak of. I shrug off my initial uneasiness as psychedelia-inspired paranoia and board the car. My faculties were still just present enough for me to avoid riding “bitch.” I buckle my seatbelt as our driver gripes about his broken power steering. Uh oh. Turning from the parking lot onto the street, another of my friends tells me that our driver, L, is something of a joker. This was not what I needed to hear, but I sat tight and rationalized my own safety. After all, these guys get stoned and drive around all the time without problems. What could go wrong? What could go wrong, indeed. As we head toward the freeway, we encounter some road work. It’s dark now, so there’s a huge light tower providing illumination. This freaks our driver out and it finally clicks in my head that everyone else in the car is very, very stoned. We get to the freeway entrance ramp. Entering the freeway is not usually very memorable, but the few seconds we spent doing so are indelibly recorded in my memory. Our driver did not realize that this entrance required us to merge onto the freeway, and we almost hit the retaining wall before being let on. I’m peaking on the shrooms at this point, but my endocrine system went into overdrive and I was SLAMMED into reality. We take the next exit, and L has great difficulty picking a lane. I point out the correct one and we eventually get to the store, but not before driving poorly in front of a cop and narrowly avoiding a pull-over.
I find it impossible to enjoy myself in the store, because in the back of my mind I know that the drive back is going to be intensely unpleasant. I don’t buy anything, but N buys 2 video games. We leave after this. I had to navigate. Various mishaps on the way back included hitting a curb at speed, tons of weaving, almost turning into oncoming traffic, etc. After reading what I’ve just written, I now realize that there’s no way I can possibly convey the full extent of the terror I felt while riding in this car. Just know that when we returned to my residence, I felt an intense euphoria like none other. Waves of relief flooded through me. The rest of the trip consisted of me listening to music, playing guitar and watching N play video games. I also cooked some bacon, which was tasty. Ultimately, though, no possible activity can compare to almost dying.