As a college student during the Covid era, life was nothing short of unusual. My roommates and I found solace in the psychedelic realm, taking us on a spiritual journey that spanned over a year. Our confidence with these substances grew with each trip, eventually leading to my highest doses on both LSD and mushrooms. After that monumental experience, I decided to dial back a bit and take a smaller trip of 600ug LSD - still considered a heroic dose, but half of my previous LSD adventure.

With our minds set on experiencing the wonders of nature, my roommate and I ventured to the breathtaking Shenandoah Mountains for a day and night of camping. Upon setting up camp, we dropped the tabs and prepared ourselves for a memorable trip. The come-up was serene, filled with mesmerizing visuals and the soothing sounds of nature. We started a campfire and explored the area, discovering a picturesque creek adorned with a large fallen log - the perfect spot for meditation.

As the trip unfolded, my comfort was shattered when a helicopter began circling our campsite. My heart raced as my mind filled with paranoia. Being on probation, the possibility of getting arrested was all too real. Each time the helicopter passed, my anxiety surged. Relief washed over me when the helicopter finally disappeared.

Craving a walk, I set off on my own while my roommate stayed behind to write in his journal. As I wandered away from camp, I spotted two burly men with vests, seemingly heading straight for our site. My mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario: they were cops. Panicked, I sprinted away, leaving my roommate to fend for himself. I dashed deeper into the woods, driven by fear and the sudden return of the helicopter overhead.

Eventually, I came to a halt and realized I was lost. Surrounded by impenetrable brush and thorns, I felt utterly defeated. Desperate to find my way back, I drew upon my outdoor education skills and relied on the sun as my guide. I visualized the camp, the creek, and the sun's position, determining that I needed to keep the sun behind my right shoulder and head toward the creek.

With renewed hope, I embarked on my journey back to camp. The sound of flowing water soon reached my ears, and Ben E. King's "Supernatural Thing" began to play, prompting an impromptu victory dance. Crossing the creek, I encountered a fisherman who confirmed I was on the right path.

As I approached the campsite, I was filled with relief and trepidation about what awaited me. To my surprise, I found my roommate still writing in his journal, unfazed. It turned out that the mysterious men were fellow fishermen, not cops.

We spent the rest of the trip enjoying the fire and relaxing by the stream. This adventure tested my outdoor skills and reinforced the notion that fear-driven actions are often misguided. In the end, I emerged from the psychedelic wilderness with a deeper understanding of myself and a renewed appreciation for the power of staying calm in the face of uncertainty.