Yosemite is so much better on acid

Yosemite is so much better on acid

A Chapter by Abigail West
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My roommate and I go to Yosemite and drop acid. After an un-welcomed encounter with a stranger we discuss the lack of individual freedom in society

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CHAPTER SEVEN

The following week Shawn and I head to Yosemite. It turns out to be a great trip, both figuratively and literally. We each drop a hit of acid before beginning our hike up towards the top of Half Dome. It turns out to be a journey of the mind and body. As we make our way up the trail, Shawn in his worn and tattered hiking boots, me in my Teva’s. We have to bob and weave through the throngs of other hikers beginning the ascent. Not wanting to let any one know we are high, we remain relatively silent, exchanging only sideways glances and brief smiles, letting the other know” “Yeah, I feel it.” On reaching Vernal Falls, we are peaking. We walk to the three foot high metal safety fence to see the waterfall. From twenty feet away we can see the serenity of the river gradually gain momentum as it approaches the point at which it free falls into what we assume is the pond that we passed on our way up. The fence keeps us from seeing the plunge. A more distant view is available further down the fence-line but it just does not have the same affect as being close to the mouth of the falls.

“Hey Shawn, look, the river is so peaceful and even slow until you get forty feet from the falls where it suddenly speeds up and goes rushing over the edge. Can you imagine rafting on some unknown river, floating down, having a great time until SURPRISE! You are dropping down a massive waterfall!”

“Yeah, that is pretty wild, I wish we could see more of the actual falls, look at how fast the water is running over the edge. It is crazy how much it speeds up before flowing down.”

“I know, I want to see it drop!”

“Come on, let’s go!” he says as he looks both ways and then hops the fence.

In his altered state Shawn climbs over the fence that keeps people away from the mouth of the waterfall. Initially he crawls on his hands and knees, eventually dropping to his stomach as he approaches the edge of where the water plunges down to the pond below. I quickly follow, holding on to his ankles as he approaches the glistening lip of the rock, wet from random splashes of water. He looks back, his eyes wide.

“Oh my God!! You have to check this out, it is like I can feel the power of the water!”

“O.k., scoot back, there isn’t enough room for both of us.”

He shuffles back, and rises to his hand sand knees as I shuffle on my stomach like a soldier under enemy wire to the spot where I can see the entire waterfall, from drop to destination. As I watch the current approaching the lip of the falls, it is like it has a sudden urgency to reach the edge and free fall to tranquil destiny.

With my body still flat and one hand bracing me, I reach my hand out to feel the water rushing by. It whips my arm in front of my face with surprising power. The surface of the sun warmed granite a contrast to the icy cold splashes of water that give me goosebumps. My chills are intensified as I peek over the edge and watch the water drop over three-hundred feet into the clear pond below. I imagine myself to be a single droplet outside of the cascading mass, unrestrained but unafraid, traveling the path of gravity until I reach the cool pool of blue where I am submerged in the serene silence of the underwater world. My daydream is reeled in when, behind me, I hear a mans voice.

”What are they doing? They are not supposed to be out there, I am going to get the ranger.”

We turn to see a middle-aged man wearing REI’s version of garanimals, khaki shorts, safari shirt and socks of the same color, and shiny new hiking boots turning around in search of a park ranger. We snap back into reality immediately. Not wanting to deal with law enforcement of any kind, we jump back over the fence and walk at a brisk but un-hurried pace towards the scattered trees behind us. Not being very good at following rules throughout my life, I have learned, if you do not want to get in trouble or draw attention to yourself, act natural and do not make eye contact until you are clear of the immediate area. We do not make eye contact with anyone along the fence-line or in the immediate area. As we make our way towards the Half Dome Trail I think back to the strangers threats of calling the authorities and turn to Shawn.

“I just do not understand people like that. Why was he so upset? He acted like we were dangling his child over the falls! ”

“My guess is he is one of those guys who likes and abides by all of the rules.”

“Ugh, people like that drive me crazy! It would be different if they allowed for personal choice but so often they are made under the premise of having them for our own protection. Like the government knows what is better for us than we do. It seems to me, rules are made for the lowest denominator of our society. They are in place for ignorant people who do not have the ability to make an intelligent decision or lack the character to take responsibility for their own actions and behaviors. We are aware of the danger of falling over the edge. When you think about it, put the exact same rock we were on two feet above the ground and the physical steps of crawling are the same. The flowing river and three-hundred feet drop simply make us more aware of our actions because there are consequences for not focusing on the task. The Park service has the fence there because most people just do not pay attention. They are just going through the motions of daily life, unaware of anything or anyone. Their world only as large as their immediate surroundings and how it affects them personally. Don’t you think we, as individuals should be free to make the choice, free to trust our own abilities and take our own actions? Should we make a mistake, hurt ourselves or die, no one should be held accountable or responsible. I would humbly accept the Darwin Award if I earned it, even if it was from a hospital bed or post-humous. If we are not hurting anyone else, why shouldn’t we be able to do as we please?”

“Yeah, but check out the way the light is coming through the trees over there!” Shawn replies, clearly not as bothered as I am and having a very different acid experience.

The pathways of my brain have turned inward, to thoughts about how the world we live in is set up. His have remained outside, seeing new splendor in everything we see.

As we walk on I get more and more perturbed. While potentially posing a danger to ourselves, we were not hurting anyone by laying and watching the waterfall. Why was he so disturbed that he felt the need to call authorities? If he was concerned for our safety, couldn’t he have just talked to us directly? Was it fear for us or resentment for living beyond what he himself is capable of, actions displayed out of his comfort zone?

“Shawn, why do you think so many people believe they need to impose their own constraints on others?”

“I don’t know but I am still tripping pretty hard, you?” he says with an ear to ear grin.

“I am coming down a little.” the combination of garanimal man and hiking in sandals over what has turned into a snow covered trail, bringing me back to reality. I don’t want to be a buzz kill for Shawn so I continue on without mentioning either.

After forty-five minutes, my toes are starting to turn blue.

“Hey Shawn, I am going to turn around and head back, my feet are freezing.”

“You don’t want to go to the top?”

“Nah, but go ahead, I can wait for you on the trail, where the snow ends.”

“Are you sure? It is not that much farther.”

“I know but look at my feet, I don’t want to get frostbite. You go ahead, I can wait down below.”

“It’s ok, I have been there before. I’ll head down with you. Besides, if you run into Garanimal man, you might need some back up.” He says putting his arm around me as we turn to walk down the trail.

“Sorry to bring it up again but, seriously, don’t you think there is a lack of appreciation, acceptance, or even tolerance for those who do not feel or act inline within our own belief systems? I recognize I am guilty of it in judging him but I guess I just live in a bigger box. What sets me a part from him is I do not feel the need to impose my way of living on him and if I saw someone doing something I felt was outrageous or threatening, if I did anything, I would approach them. I wouldn’t not just go running to find someone else to deal with it.”

“Yeah, that guy is like my Dad, they just don’t get it.”

“How so?” I ask, curious as he has never mentioned his family.

“Thinking other people need to live their lives the same way he has.”

“What do you mean?”

“My Dad owns a successful business in the L.A. Area. I graduated at the top of my class in business and he assumed I would go into the family business and eventually take over. I did it for a year and hated it. When I told him I was moving to Tahoe to ski, he lost it, asking why he wasted his money on me attending college. He told me if I wanted to be an aimless loser I was on my own.”

“You don’t feel like a loser do you?”

“Not at all, I love my life. We just have different ideas of what is important. He has worked hard and done well, but for what? A nice house, a nice car, two days off a week and a week of vacation every year? To me, those things are not worth the sacrifice. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that he was able to pay for my college but he was the one who wanted me to go. Sure, I wait tables and it is not a glamorous job but it pays the bills, gives me the opportunity to meet people, and most of the time it is a fun atmosphere. I have all day off to go hiking, riding, skiing, just lay around and read, or whatever. Running a business is not fun, shouldn’t life be fun?”

“Absolutely! My family is the same. They think I should get a professional job. I know some people may look down on us because we are “just a server” or “just a bartender” but I don’t feel like I am “just” anything, not even just a skier. I read. I write. I hike. I swim. I paint. I sculpt. I do a lot of things that make up who I am. A job does not say who I am as a person.”

“Ha-ha, if I got my identity from my job, putting on that stupid red and white striped uniform and bow tie would be enough to push me to suicide.”

“No kidding, who picked those hideous things? Jobs are simply a means to allow me to do the things I like to do. It would make my parents ecstatic if I used my degree but it just does not fit in with my personality. I didn’t feel like I fit into the conservative role teachers are supposed to assume. I remember student teaching and a kid making a slightly off-color joke that I probably should have reprimanded him for but I just commented “inappropriate for class” and turned around, hiding my smile and quashing my laughter because it was funny. Maybe I am immature in that way but I couldn’t imagine going into an environment enforcing rules and conducts of behavior that to me were just part of being young and silly. It just wasn’t me. For some, a teachers schedule is great. For me, working all winter only to have summers off is the opposite of what I want. I want the winter months off. Not to mention, the sad truth is that I make more money waiting tables than I would have had I gone into teaching.”

“Maybe someday we will grow up but right now it just does not sound very appealing.”

We make our way back down the trail, skipping a second glance at Vernal Falls for fear of running into our buzz killing tattle teller. We arrive back at the bus and toil around the base area of the park until sundown approaches and a dense fog descends on the valley. By the time we are packed and ready to drive home the fog has turned the beautiful valley into an erie soup of darkness. As we drive out of the valley, we cannot see ten feet in front of us. We slow the bus to a crawl, which really isn’t much slower than it would normally be ascending this road, and hope for the best. We have a few heart stopping experiences when we come upon tail-lights of people who thought it better to just stop in the middle of the road than continue further but we reach the top of the valley without rear-ending anyone. The fog clears from the road as well as our acid ladened minds as we make our way back to Tahoe.



© 2013 Abigail West


Author's Note

Abigail West
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Added on October 9, 2013
Last Updated on October 16, 2013