THE "TRIP" REPORT THREAD

[riser4]

School Street FTMFW!

[east or bust]

School Street FTMFW!

that the one with the little park and annoying speed humps?

ahh fuck, I’m thinking of Booth… was close though

[Phall]

We had a solid 4-5 year run at 24 with UVM Cycling. My liver doesn't miss that place, I still have a wierd cough in the mornings, no idea what from, and can only attribute it to that cesspool.

[riser4]

Student ghetto. That little triangle on North Street, Hyde st., and school St. was sort of a Bermuda triangle spot if one was tripping balls. I remember a daytime block party there with some punk bands summer of 89 and T Curley from The Wards doing stage dives onto pavement with serious road rash and somebody dumping beer on it from a 40 to cleanse it.

[RootSkier]

Even with modern commercial edibles the dosage QC can vary so widely that I have yet to dip a toe into those waters. Getting too high on edibles is fucking awful.

And sometimes, there is just pure user error, like the story (recounted here by me more than once) where I ate 15-20% of a tanker that I thought was 100mg and only three days later, when I started feeling normal, realized it was actually 1000mg.

[MakersTeleMark]

A mag and I were at Phish, Merriweather Post, 2009. If you follow my posts in the wasatch thread, he's a good ski buddy but will remain anonymous here. We're drinking beers and enjoying the lot, have our two j's per set rolled and stashed, ready to party once that first note drops. Grab some grilled cheese, giggle at the wooks, and proceed to begin heading to the enterance. At this time mag x decided to buy a brownie from some cute wook. Now, this isn't some holiday party size brownie, this thing is a minimimum of 4"x4", if not 6"x6". Mag begins to eat it, as we walk to the gate. He's slowly realizing he's not going to be able to stash it, and faces the whole thing. We find our seats, the Phish begins Phish'n, and we're having a great time. light up the first doob, share it with our neighbors who pass theirs and their flask. Mag is dancing, having a great time, and the next thing you know, he's sitting in his chair with panic in his eyes. We have a conversation and he is swearing up and down he was dosed. We settle him down and explain that he housed a massive brownie and split 2 joints with 3 people. He has some water, realizes he's on a rocketship to fun town, and begins to dance his face off the rest of the night.

2010, Dicks, decided to eat a shakedown mushroom chocolate during set break. Fast forward to end of show. Floor is completely cleared out and they are rapidly sweeping up from stage backwards with just me, a speck left there on the floor, not able to move anything below my waist completely paralyzed. My abs hurt so much from trying to get up, but my legs and spine wouldn't hold me. Cops and paramedics came, but I was completely lucid and cognizant of my situation. Took a couple people to dead lift me and carry me out. 45 minutes later I was completely fine and cooking burgers in the RV lot.

[MakersTeleMark]

[ötzi]

I spent an entire Dead Show at Hampton Coliseum in the concourse with a girl who was freaking out in a big way on shrooms. She told me she had done them before, which was not true. I still loved her, though. A few months later she broke my heart, really crushed it. Damn I wish I had seen that show.

[Buster Highmen]

I got to this show in the early afternoon, right up next to the doors before they opened.
I remember a rock smashing the window and glass shattering everywhere just as the doors opened and we ran in.

Scored second row seats stage right, just along the front edge of the stage. Wall of Sound stacked to the ceiling. Lovely little girl in the seats in front of us had a tin of cookies. We were smoking out on some lush lebanese red hash, so I hit her up for a cookie and she twirled around and held up the tin. I took one and so did my buddies. A few minutes later, munchies running strong, I asked for another which was again willingly proffered. On requesting a third in the next half hour as the techs laid lines and sound tested, she said "oh you shouldn't have more than 2".

It was a great show, 20 feet from Garcia who stared at us, smiled and nodded. The sequence
China Cat Sunflower
I Know You Rider
Me & My Uncle

blew the roof off the place.

https://www.herbibot.com/?show=1973/10/25

At the end, too loaded to get in the car, we walked out onto the floor to scope the tye dyes on the wall. That was cool.

[muted reborn]

I have a friend who use to tell a crazy story of another friend of his that used to drop 12-24 hits in his eyeballs everyday. It was a long crazy story that I always felt should have been told to the world, ha. Maybe even made into a movie. Then I actually met and skied with him but he was sober then and after rehab and I didn't know he was 'that' guy. My friend didn't tell me who he was until the day was over. Ripping fast skier actually. We talked all day about being a dad and other normal shit. Wish I could have asked him a million questions about his acid days. Maybe next time I go to Big Sky I will have the chance.

[MakersTeleMark]

I got to this show in the early afternoon, right up next to the doors before they opened.
I remember a rock smashing the window and glass shattering everywhere just as the doors opened and we ran in.

Scored second row seats stage right, just along the front edge of the stage. Wall of Sound stacked to the ceiling. Lovely little girl in the seats in front of us had a tin of cookies. We were smoking out on some lush lebanese red hash, so I hit her up for a cookie and she twirled around and held up the tin. I took one and so did my buddies. A few minutes later, munchies running strong, I asked for another which was again willingly proffered. On requesting a third in the next half hour as the techs laid lines and sound tested, she said "oh you shouldn't have more than 2".

It was a great show, 20 feet from Garcia who stared at us, smiled and nodded. The sequence
China Cat Sunflower
I Know You Rider
Me & My Uncle

blew the roof off the place.

https://www.herbibot.com/?show=1973/10/25

At the end, too loaded to get in the car, we walked out onto the floor to scope the tye dyes on the wall. That was cool.

How could you leave out: Dark Star, Mind Left Body Jam, Dark Star, Eyes of the World

[MakersTeleMark]

I have a friend who use to tell a crazy story of another friend of his that used to drop 12-24 hits in his eyeballs everyday. It was a long crazy story that I always felt should have been told to the world, ha. Maybe even made into a movie. Then I actually met and skied with him but he was sober then and after rehab and I didn't know he was 'that' guy. My friend didn't tell me who he was until the day was over. Ripping fast skier actually. We talked all day about being a dad and other normal shit. Wish I could have asked him a million questions about his acid days. Maybe next time I go to Big Sky I will have the chance.

I did an experiment in high school where I dropped 2 tabs of green monster every day for 30 days. It was interesting; from train rides to AP calc,, to dinner around the family table. You can hide a lot in puberty.

[Tap]

All this talk…who the fuck is holding!?! PMs accepted.

[Woodsy]

Great stories in here and Dan, amazing…

Here is one of my most memorable

Prologue-Late start tripping with the bad kids in the Beehive state

So although I have been on a number of Psychedelic journeys over time, I didn’t start until college. I drank and got high in HS but I was a wrestler and I had read somewhere, and my tripper friends had backed up likely erroneously, that LSD stores itself in your fat and when you lose weight, you get flashbacks. Now I cut weight every year after football before/during wrestling and the last thing I wanted was a flashback in a sweaty wrestling room with a dude across form me looking to throw/twist/wreck me.

This wasn’t for lack of opportunity. Most of the SLC public school kids thought that all the Catholic School kids were on drugs, and they weren’t far off…

Summer after freshman year of college that all changed. I had tried acid & boomers a few times in college, but the summer after was next level. When you are 19 in Utah in the early 90s acid is cheaper and more readily available than real beer. Blotter hits were $3-5 and a 12 pack of 3.2 Keystone Light at the places we cold buy it was $4.29. Bang for buck, acid wins hands down.
That summer my 2 best friends and I would meet at my folks house after work and dinner with family (one was in Bountiful, one in Rose Park so the Avenues was central) combine into one car and head out. I know we didn’t do this every night but looking back it seems like it. We would drop and head out to what ever party was on at someones out of town parents house, outdoor Reggae shows, the golf course, the ampitheater, etc. wherever underage kids we knew could hang out. This was one of the last great SLC summers of the early 90s before Roman and a bunch of kids in this expanded circle started dying. We would stay out most of the night, crash in my parents basement and then head off to whatever mindless manual labor job we had that summer.

Saw a lot of sunrises up the various canyons that summer, Millcreek especially. We called these “birdchirpers, as the birds were chirping as we headed home.


Scene 1 On the Road

So that summer ends and its time to drive back to school. I went to University in Redlands, CA which was about a 10-11 hour drive with quick stops. My buddy from college & HS and I decide to drop acid for the ride as that takes 10-12 hours so should be perfect. Now this friend wasn’t one of the 2 gents above, we had gone to school together and he was definitely at many of those parties I mentioned in the Prologue. I knew he was a Psychedelic traveler as he had told me at lunch during football two a days the day after the Grateful Dead had played Park West when I complained I was dragging from the show that he was still tripping from the night before and was getting tracers on the footballs he was receiving as a kick returner that AM.
We pack our cars (mine Suzuki Samarai, his early 80s Bronco) to the gills with everything to go to college. We decide to take walkie talkies with us so we can communicate. These were real ones that his family used while hunting up at their cabin in WY. Idea was so we could communicate and pull over if needed. Kaya one & Kaya 2 call names. We have grand plans of taking our time, fking around in the desert, getting out in Vegas for a bit, etc.

We put the Red Ant on our tongues & head out mid morning once traffic has resolved ( 1-15 south rush hour sucked balls in the early 90s as well) Southbound & life is good. Music is cranking mood is high. We are chattering away on the walkie talkies in trucker slang we remember from movies. Laughing our asses off, making good time but not speeding ( too much.)
This was a great idea!

Scene 2 DO NOT GET OUT OF THE CAR
Rural Utah is flowing by, roads are clear, life is good.
This is blaring as loud as my cassette player & cheap after market speakers can Handle


I put American Prayer in the cassette deck as we left the Avenues and it just keeps repeating. For you younger folks cassette decks would just flip the tape and keep going until you popped it out. This will become important.

Just south of the Fillmore Virgin Beaver area:
Kaya 1: “Kaya 2 how it going!”
Me “great man, how about you ?”
Kaya 1“ feeling great, roads only melting a little heh heh… Lets pullover at the next exit, gas up take a piss, get a drink”
Me: “ 10-4 good buddy, on your tail. Show me the way home hahahaha”
Pull over into a rural Utah filling station, straight out of the movies. Old pumps, small store, bathroom behind it. Turn off Car, unbcuckle, open door and that’s when it hits me that this is a whole different world.


Air is thick, its way too quiet, everything is just a touch off….
um,

Old school service station. Walk inside and give bored rural Utah white dude my CC ask to fill up on 1. Walk back out to my buddies car. He is still sitting in the front seat.

Me ” it’s a lot different when you get out of the car.”
Him “ I know, I had to get back in”
Me ” wanna take a break?”
Him ” no, we need to keep going, we are ok if we stay in the car. But I gotta piss and I need a new tape. I have been listening to this since we left”
Hands me a cassette of Peter Tosh No Nuclear War.
Me “um, OK be right back”

[slowly, deliberately] Go to car, take pump out, screw on gas cap. Head into to station, pay for gas and get key to Mens.
Go back to car, take American Prayer out of deck bring it to buddy and hand it to him
“lets go”
We walk carefully back to the rank bathroom and relieve our selves & wash hands. Thank God the mirror is torn out.
We go back to our respective cars & get back on I -15. [/slowly, deliberately]

Scene 2, you know it doesn’t stop right?



Back on the road, everything is better. Peter Tosh fills the car, Southern Utah is beautiful and we are headed in the right direction.
Radio chatter is nil.
then

Just before St George ;
Kaya1: “Kaya 2, I need to get some gas.”
Those older Broncos had HUDGE tanks but also got about 10mpg
Me: “10-4, following you”
We pull into a much more modern Top stop or Rainbow and he goes to fill up.
This felt a lot more like tripping in SLC so a bit better?!? I still stay in car. He manages to fill up and walks over to my car and hands me American Prayer,
“ let me have Peter Tosh back “ We sing a brief Vampire chorus and laugh.
I put American Prayer back in the cassette deck.
Now mind you we are teens of the late 80s, we have CASES of tapes. Metal. Hip hop, dead bootlegs, reggae, ALL with us to choose from but these two are all that will be needed.

We head out again as the sun begins to dip in sky.
We laugh about getting through Utah,
I tell him its not over
We laugh.

Scene 3 Star Wars shit..

Back here again…

windows open things are settling and then. Then we hit AZ…
Virgin River Gorge.
Have you driven it?
If you haven’t driven the Virgin Gorge. Its beautiful and sketchy.
Perfect for the end of a TRIP, as in horrible. I am glad we had not talked about it before as we forgot about it...



I loved it, I hated it
I am glad I lived…
It was amazing & stoopid, like the whole adventure.
whew
ok Fucks sake...

I am not driving a Bronco. My little motorcycle engine needs fuel.
Why didn’t I fuel up in greater St George.
?
Don’t get out of the car.
right
Fuck.

Me:” kaya 1 I need petrol…”
Kaya1:” fk Woodsy, seriously….”
“Next exit”
OK.
So we pull into Mesquite Nevada.
Bordertown in Nevada. Horrible.

I fuel up at another modern convenience, EASY.
KINDA

I talk to my buddy again and give him American prayer. He gives me Peter Tosh.
Kaya 1 : "I didn’t think we were gonna make it…”
Me” so I imagine Vegas is out”
Kaya 1: “Woodsy, we are driving to Redlands. We are not stopping again!”
The sun is getting very low on the horizon.

[Woodsy]

Scene 4 Waiting and homecoming:
On our way, home stretch. We survived the crazy, almost to Cali now!

So I don’t think it is a big deal now, but they used to check people at the border of Cali and ask them about Fruit, You cant bring fruit into California
Pestilence and all that..
These check points were often no big deal, but busy weekends, like when every kid in the Western US was driving to one of the many SoCal colleges, were maddening.

So waiting in line to talk to official badged state employees is not fun..
Waiting a long time.
Especially if you are just beginning to come off a trip, and have had it with a journey, and have way too much fucking time to worry about the situation.
Especially when your also tripping friend has time to wind you up via walkie talkie.

There may have been fruit and weed in my car. I don’t know.. FUCK!!
Hour of stop and go line later…


Officer : Any fruit or Farm products to declare

Me: Not that I can think of..

Officer: full car ya got there…

Me: yep moving to Redlands for school! [big friendly not stoned smile]

Officer :” good luck”

deep breath.
Rest of drive was quiet. Just me and Peter. It was summer, but getting dark....



got to Uni and friends were already moved into the dorms and happy to see us.
Luckily helped get the computers and stereos out of our cars, clothes mostly too.
Lotta hands make easy work. There were beers.

We were worthless.

Didn’t tell that story that night.

May have been a few years till we told anyone.
Lucky boys

[skifishbum]

Great stories in here and Dan, amazing…

Here is one of my most memorable

Prologue-Late start tripping with the bad kids in the Beehive state

So although I have been on a number of Psychedelic journeys over time, I didn’t start until college. I drank and got high in HS but I was a wrestler and I had read somewhere, and my tripper friends had backed up likely erroneously, that LSD stores itself in your fat and when you lose weight, you get flashbacks. Now I cut weight every year after football before/during wrestling and the last thing I wanted was a flashback in a sweaty wrestling room with a dude across form me looking to throw/twist/wreck me.

This wasn’t for lack of opportunity. Most of the SLC public school kids thought that all the Catholic School kids were on drugs, and they weren’t far off…

Summer after freshman year of college that all changed. I had tried acid & boomers a few times in college, but the summer after was next level. When you are 19 in Utah in the early 90s acid is cheaper and more readily available than real beer. Blotter hits were $3-5 and a 12 pack of 3.2 Keystone Light at the places we cold buy it was $4.29. Bang for buck, acid wins hands down.
That summer my 2 best friends and I would meet at my folks house after work and dinner with family (one was in Bountiful, one in Rose Park so the Avenues was central) combine into one car and head out. I know we didn’t do this every night but looking back it seems like it. We would drop and head out to what ever party was on at someones out of town parents house, outdoor Reggae shows, the golf course, the ampitheater, etc. wherever underage kids we knew could hang out. This was one of the last great SLC summers of the early 90s before Roman and a bunch of kids in this expanded circle started dying. We would stay out most of the night, crash in my parents basement and then head off to whatever mindless manual labor job we had that summer.

Saw a lot of sunrises up the various canyons that summer, Millcreek especially. We called these “birdchirpers, as the birds were chirping as we headed home.


Scene 1 On the Road

So that summer ends and its time to drive back to school. I went to University in Redlands, CA which was about a 10-11 hour drive with quick stops. My buddy from college & HS and I decide to drop acid for the ride as that takes 10-12 hours so should be perfect. Now this friend wasn’t one of the 2 gents above, we had gone to school together and he was definitely at many of those parties I mentioned in the Prologue. I knew he was a Psychedelic traveler as he had told me at lunch during football two a days the day after the Grateful Dead had played Park West when I complained I was dragging from the show that he was still tripping from the night before and was getting tracers on the footballs he was receiving as a kick returner that AM.
We pack our cars (mine Suzuki Samarai, his early 80s Bronco) to the gills with everything to go to college. We decide to take walkie talkies with us so we can communicate. These were real ones that his family used while hunting up at their cabin in WY. Idea was so we could communicate and pull over if needed. Kaya one & Kaya 2 call names. We have grand plans of taking our time, fking around in the desert, getting out in Vegas for a bit, etc.

We put the Red Ant on our tongues & head out mid morning once traffic has resolved ( 1-15 south rush hour sucked balls in the early 90s as well) Southbound & life is good. Music is cranking mood is high. We are chattering away on the walkie talkies in trucker slang we remember from movies. Laughing our asses off, making good time but not speeding ( too much.)
This was a great idea!

Scene 2 DO NOT GET OUT OF THE CAR
Rural Utah is flowing by, roads are clear, life is good.
This is blaring as loud as my cassette player & cheap after market speakers can Handle


I put American Prayer in the cassette deck as we left the Avenues and it just keeps repeating. For you younger folks cassette decks would just flip the tape and keep going until you popped it out. This will become important.

Just south of the Fillmore Virgin Beaver area:
Kaya 1: “Kaya 2 how it going!”
Me “great man, how about you ?”
Kaya 1“ feeling great, roads only melting a little heh heh… Lets pullover at the next exit, gas up take a piss, get a drink”
Me: “ 10-4 good buddy, on your tail. Show me the way home hahahaha”
Pull over into a rural Utah filling station, straight out of the movies. Old pumps, small store, bathroom behind it. Turn off Car, unbcuckle, open door and that’s when it hits me that this is a whole different world.


Air is thick, its way too quiet, everything is just a touch off….
um,

Old school service station. Walk inside and give bored rural Utah white dude my CC ask to fill up on 1. Walk back out to my buddies car. He is still sitting in the front seat.

Me ” it’s a lot different when you get out of the car.”
Him “ I know, I had to get back in”
Me ” wanna take a break?”
Him ” no, we need to keep going, we are ok if we stay in the car. But I gotta piss and I need a new tape. I have been listening to this since we left”
Hands me a cassette of Peter Tosh No Nuclear War.
Me “um, OK be right back”

[slowly, deliberately] Go to car, take pump out, screw on gas cap. Head into to station, pay for gas and get key to Mens.
Go back to car, take American Prayer out of deck bring it to buddy and hand it to him
“lets go”
We walk carefully back to the rank bathroom and relieve our selves & wash hands. Thank God the mirror is torn out.
We go back to our respective cars & get back on I -15. [/slowly, deliberately]

Scene 2, you know it doesn’t stop right?



Back on the road, everything is better. Peter Tosh fills the car, Southern Utah is beautiful and we are headed in the right direction.
Radio chatter is nil.
then

Just before St George ;
Kaya1: “Kaya 2, I need to get some gas.”
Those older Broncos had HUDGE tanks but also got about 10mpg
Me: “10-4, following you”
We pull into a much more modern Top stop or Rainbow and he goes to fill up.
This felt a lot more like tripping in SLC so a bit better?!? I still stay in car. He manages to fill up and walks over to my car and hands me American Prayer,
“ let me have Peter Tosh back “ We sing a brief Vampire chorus and laugh.
I put American Prayer back in the cassette deck.
Now mind you we are teens of the late 80s, we have CASES of tapes. Metal. Hip hop, dead bootlegs, reggae, ALL with us to choose from but these two are all that will be needed.

We head out again as the sun begins to dip in sky.
We laugh about getting through Utah,
I tell him its not over
We laugh.

Scene 3 Star Wars shit..

Back here again…

windows open things are settling and then. Then we hit AZ…
Virgin River Gorge.
Have you driven it?
If you haven’t driven the Virgin Gorge. Its beautiful and sketchy.
Perfect for the end of a TRIP, as in horrible. I am glad we had not talked about it before as we forgot about it...



I loved it, I hated it
I am glad I lived…
It was amazing & stoopid, like the whole adventure.
whew
ok Fucks sake...

I am not driving a Bronco. My little motorcycle engine needs fuel.
Why didn’t I fuel up in greater St George.
?
Don’t get out of the car.
right
Fuck.

Me:” kaya 1 I need petrol…”
Kaya1:” fk Woodsy, seriously….”
“Next exit”
OK.
So we pull into Mesquite Nevada.
Bordertown in Nevada. Horrible.

I fuel up at another modern convenience, EASY.
KINDA

I talk to my buddy again and give him American prayer. He gives me Peter Tosh.
Kaya 1 : "I didn’t think we were gonna make it…”
Me” so I imagine Vegas is out”
Kaya 1: “Woodsy, we are driving to Redlands. We are not stopping again!”
The sun is getting very low on the horizon.

i smoked some microdot and ate a few pharohs head blotter
lost it ended up in the street in my skivies thinkin i was mr mojo and it was raining blood
went to er
came out of it at hospital like blam trip over
denied it all
got kicked outta the house
didnt go to college
became a fishy skibum
"what a long strange trip its been"

[whipski]

I did an experiment in high school where I dropped 2 tabs of green monster every day for 30 days. It was interesting; from train rides to AP calc,, to dinner around the family table. You can hide a lot in puberty.

this explains soooo much

[ötzi]

@ SFB: We smoked a lot of things that most people would think you couldn't smoke (burning ludes taste like burning tires btw). But it never occurred to any of us to smoke microdot.

[Dantheman]

And sometimes, there is just pure user error, like the story (recounted here by me more than once) where I ate 15-20% of a tanker that I thought was 100mg and only three days later, when I started feeling normal, realized it was actually 1000mg.

I memba. If shit like those tankers and 100+ mg edibles are legal we should really just legalize everything.

I did an experiment in high school where I dropped 2 tabs of green monster every day for 30 days. It was interesting; from train rides to AP calc,, to dinner around the family table. You can hide a lot in puberty.

Other than weed I can't say I've ever felt compelled to take drugs on consecutive days.

All this talk…who the fuck is holding!?! PMs accepted.

Growing mushrooms and extracting DMT are both super easy, or so I've heard.

@ SFB: We smoked a lot of things that most people would think you couldn't smoke (burning ludes taste like burning tires btw). But it never occurred to any of us to smoke microdot.

Probably just a waste of good acid. LSD has super low thermal stability. It degrades at room temperature.

[skifishbum]

smoked a moth outta the bong once for a hundy bet
i dont think it got me buzzed
think i wasted the benny too

[riser4]

smoked a moth outta the bong once for a hundy bet
i dont think it got me buzzed
think i wasted the benny too

[joetron]

In 1995, me and 3 of my buddies drove to Moab for the first time to ride bikes and eat some mushrooms.
We pulled in at sunset, rolling down the 128 River Road, and spot some camp spots down in the tamarisk next to the river. Before these spots were developed, the tammies formed super dense little caves, pretty cool little camp spots amongst a horrible invasive species.
That first night, some bored young ladies from town rolled up on our campsite and shared some of our beers. They struck us as “bad girls” from Moab…one of them was soon moving to Vegas to be a dancer. Nothing scandalous happened, but this detail is pertinent to future events.
We wake up in the morning and start prepping for a day of fungus in unknown desert terrain. One of our crew spots a trail across the street that heads up into a cool looking canyon. It was our first visit to Moab, it was 1995…we had no idea this was the bottom of Porcupine Rim. We each chow a fistful of boomers and armed with water bottles and a pack of Starbursts cross the road and head up the trail.
When we reach the end of “the wash” - where the classic uphill ledge move is - we decide to head straight up the side of the canyon to the bottom of the big cliffs. My teeth were starting to feel electric as we kept climbing up, enjoying the mild scrambling. Desert rookies, no thoughts given to how we would descend the ledges. Once we reach the bottom of the big Wingate layer it’s time to sit down, take it all in and watch the desert breathe for a while. I soon discover that I tend to see faces in lots of things when I’m hallucinating. The shadows and water/mineral stains in the Wingate layer were absolutely going off.
After a bit, our quiet desert paradise gets disturbed by strange echos of physical effort, freewheel buzzes and rims and bodies smacking sandstone. The first wave of shuttlers were on the homestretch and bouncing through the wash.
Remember, this was 1995…bikes sucked, Porc was epic desert adventure and it also happened to be the weekend of the now defunct Moab Fat Tire Festival, so there were a lot of riders.
We were confused and surprised, but delighted to watch the action.
My default setting on a good trip or high volume edible experience is laughter, uncontrollable giggles. Watching riders grunt, cuss, struggle and crash from our hidden perch high above was too much for me. We also didn’t realize how well sound travelled in the canyon, and soon found that while we could hear every detail of their epic mtb experience, they could also hear our cackles and stifled giggles and would search the canyon walls for us as we hid behind boulders.
Eventually we watched the sun drop behind the canyon rim and started down the wash. We got back to the tamarisk at dusk, and were feeling super good about our plan for dinner and cocktails - we re-upped midday and we’re still a bit giddy out of our minds, but everybody had a job, we were crushing it. Two of my friends were ahead as we approached what we were sure was our little tamarisk cave - my car was right there. But my buddies suddenly come running back out of the bush, frantic and confused - “dude! That’s not our camp spot, what the fuck is going on?!”
We take a moment and re-calibrate….that’s definitely my car, that’s gotta be our spot…so we creep in, not wanting to fully invade somebody’s spot and see that our tents were completely rearranged and in different spots - what the fuck?!
One of the crew goes for the cooler to grab beers to take the edge off and discovers that our cheap styrofoam cooler has been tagged by those townie chicks who must have stopped by and knowing our plan for the day, decided to fuck with us. Well played ladies.
The evening ended with one more mind bender as that Canyonlands at Night boat came by and we for sure thought we were getting abducted by aliens.
The next day we rode Porcupine, had an epic of our own, running out of tubes and patches and ended up stuffing leaves and t-shirts into tires. As we rounded the corner into Jackass Wash, we realized where we were and had a good laugh, imagining a mysterious heckler squad
cackling from above.




Sent from my iPhone using TGR Forums

[Danno]

that the one with the little park and annoying speed humps?

ahh fuck, I’m thinking of Booth… was close though

Booth Street is just one block long. I lived on Booth Street in 1999-2000, adjacent to the little park. Strange time in my life, but good place to be.

[Danno]

I have a number of memories of crazy trips, but relating them in any fashion that would be understandable to anyone who wasn't there is a challenge. Kudos to those of you who can.

[basinbeater]

Me and like 3 college buddies ate a bunch of shrooms one time and went into the hills above the avenues with a bunch of plastic sleds and had a ball one time. Beautiful sunset, Crazy visuals, fun sledding, lots of crashing.

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