[lumberjim]

I got a lot of thinking done in the time we had in the canyon. One day we took one of our long hikes down the canyon, and I, having dosed upon waking that day, was amped and fidgety and crawly. If you’ve ever done it, you know what I mean, and if you haven’t, it would take a page to describe. If you don’t know what it means to dose, (not doze) then I’m not telling you. As I said, the canyon became more and more beautiful as we hiked downstream. There were several places where we had to cross hip deep water, so we carried little. The picture above with the bright yellow tree in the sunbeam was taken a good ways down the canyon. I think we made it around the next two corners, and decided that we needed to head back if we were to make it back to camp in the daylight. We had noted that it gets dark quickly in a canyon. But walking down that river, exploring unreal landscapes, while psychedelically enhanced, made for some very vivid memories and treasured mental images.

I guess I actually should explain a bit about the feeling you get when you drop acid. At least the feeling I get…..got. ( I can’t handle it anymore….too much reality in my life). Physically, you feel as though you had taken speed, or drank twice as much as too much coffee. You become extremely well balanced, like you do when you FIRST start to feel a drunk coming on. Kind of settled down into your muscles, instead of standing up on a pile of bones. Groovier. Your skin begins to crawl a little bit, and images become more 2 dimensional. ( I never ever saw pink elephants on parade or any cartoon like hallucinations. Occasionally, a shadow would waver a bit, or a closed door would seem to swell, but I was always very conscious that the effect was taking place between my eyeballs and my brain, and not in real life. Dexterity increases, energy abounds, and you tend to lean forward a lot. That’s because you have such a short attention span up until the time that you “peak”, which is usually 3-5 hours into a trip. Then things settle down, and unless you make the mistake of smoking pot, you “get good” at it. Life is great, you love everyone around you, and instantly understand exactly what they’re saying. You connect. You belong. You are all part of the earth, and all part of each other. You are also unimaginably funny. It is not unusual to have cramps behind your ears from all of the Cheshire cat smiling you do. That and the strychnine. You simply have a much better time, carry more confidence, and have unstoppable energy. The physical effects usually lasted me into the next day, as well, while the mental effects fade within 12 hours, but on the third day, everything sucks. You don’t feel physically sick, just disgusted with everything that looked so cool a coupe of days ago. It takes a lot out of you, and your vitamin levels drop, leaving you listless and you just want to sleep all day.

So, anyway, that day as we hiked down stream, a feeling began growing in me. It made me even more restless than I would have normally been. And the feeling was getting stronger. I recall making the mistake of focusing on this anxiousness that was coming upon me, noting how it grew, but not really getting what it meant. When I did realize what it meant, there was little time left. I had to poop. I mean REALLY had to poop. And all at once, it seemed. Now.

Ok, so the worst thing that I can imagine is being spotted on the bowl. Maybe I’m weird, but that’s the truth. If I was ever to forget to lock the bathroom door in a public bathroom, and some stranger were to walk in on me, I am sure that my heart would stop, my brain would stroke out, and I’d bleed from my ears until I died. Don’t ask me how I know this, I just do, OK? So. I had to poop. But I didn’t bring anything with me but a water bottle, and a camera. This was a river canyon. Dry grass was scarce. There was also exactly ZERO privacy. The whole time we were on the road, if I had to poop outside, I would do it either in the early morning before everyone woke up, or at night after dark, and far enough away, that I could keep an ear on everyone. I’m a little better about it now, what with having kids and all, but not much. Ok, wait, it gets worse. Remember I told you I was TRIPPING? Yeah, that adds about 10 million degrees to the poop-shyness effect.

Bodily functions are strangely frightening when you take acid. If you’ve ever tried to have sex while tripping, it was because it sounded really cool while you were straight, and you planned to do it. It’s not something that would occur to you to do. Sex on Acid! How cool! Nope. Not cool. You just want to get up and walk away. Maybe apologize to the other person. Eating can be a little tricky even, but pooping is definitely the worst. This was not the first time I had to go while tripping, but there was always a closeable bathroom about those other times.

I didn’t even want the other 3 to know what I was doing. I held it for a few more turns of the creek, until I spotted a toppled tree. Privacy! I made Shelby, and Troll and Jen go on ahead, so I could be alone. I had to tell them why, too. They giggled at me, and said I was being weird, but complied. The weight that was lifted from me when I came back out from behind that fallen tree must have been immense, because I flew around that canyon with lighting bolts flying out of my ass for the rest of the day. We climbed rocks, swam in the river, and talked about living there forever like Matthew did. It was gonna be great!