PRE-CONDITIONS
(mind)Set: Very positive, middle of a long awaited vacation.
(physical condition) Set: Spinal Fusion Surgery a year before, still disabled but in good spirits.
Setting (location): High on a mountain, secluded cabin in an old growth deciduous forest.
time of day: Late evening, 11pm roughly.
recent drug use: Prescribed opiates (oxycodone), gabapentin, stool softener. Had quit for about four days prior to experience.
last meal: Beans and cornbread with spring onions the night before. One cup of coffee the morning of.
PARTICIPANT
Gender: Male
body weight: 250lbs
known sensitivities: None
history of use: Very experienced with psilocybin, LSD, Marijuana. Two failed previous attempts at ayahuasca-like brews.

BIOASSAY
Substance(s): Acacia Madenii and Simplex Phyllodes and twigs, Fresh Psychotria Viridis Foliage, Bundleflower root bark, Syrian Rue Seeds.
Dose(s): Regrettably there was no accurate measurement of the tryptamine containing material, but about 2/3 of a gallon freezer bag consisting of primarily Madenii and Simplex Phyllodes and a few twigs, about 12 psychotria leaves, and the bark of maybe two roots of bundlflower. 5 Grams of Syrian Rue Seeds
Method of administration: Brewed Tea


EFFECTS
Administration time: T=12pm
Duration: 5 hours
First effects: 30 minutes.
Peak: T=2:00-4:00
Come down: T=4:00
Baseline: Fell Asleep, not known.

Intensity (overall): 3 = "Quite a bit;"
Evaluation / notes: Effects only with eyes closed, loss of motor skills during peak. Only brief nausea, no purge.

OPTIONAL
Pleasantness: 4
Implesantness: 2
Visual Intensity: 4
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AFTER-EFFECTS
Hangover: 0
Afterglow: Very positive, alot of energy.

REPORT
As my Acacia and Chacruna simmered on it's final and filtered reduction, another tea was prepared from crushed Syrian Rue Seeds by placing them into a non-reactive pot and simmered with enough spring water to cover the mass and slowly stewed for about an hour and a half. This was poured off into a ceramic coffee mug and allowed to cool. Once sufficiently cooled, between 7-10 drops of Lemon Essential oil was added to the rue tea and stirred occasionally before it was consumed in as few swallows as possible. Unable to completely finish the tea due to it's foul taste, the last couple of tablespoonfuls were added to the Acacia Chacruna tea which by this time had cooled sufficiently to consume. Time was noted, and about ten minutes was allowed to elapse before the decanted Acacia Chacruna tea was separated into two portions, one of which was then poured off into a carved ceremonial chalice of about 6 fluid ounces. The second dose was never consumed. To this portion, an additional 5-7 drops of Lemon Essential Oil was added and then consumed. The other portion was set aside for additional as-needed dosage.

My sitter noted the time in the log, and I stepped outside to start the campfire. After the fire was lit and going well enough to no longer require tending, I placed a lawnchair by the firepit and sat down to wait for the effects. After about twenty or so minutes, my sitter joined me by the fire and I lit the Rustica cigar I had prepared for the evening and smoked it slowly over a twenty minute or so period while I went over some last minute details with my sitter about things to watch out for, safety first. It was just as I finished the rustica cigar that I began to feel something best described as a pleasant occular pressure and a definite sense of light intoxication. I experienced the first wave of nausea at this point, and completely expected to purge but it passed in a few moments much to my surprise. The light intoxication slowly gave way to a definite feeling of drunkeness, more physical than mental.

"It's comming." I said, and my sitter suggested I move to the front porch of the cabin away from the fire. Seeing the wisdom in this suggestion, I stood up slowly from the lawn chair and immediately noticed a significant loss of motor skill as I walked towards the steps of the porch, very much like an alcohol intoxication but without the mental inebriation of strong liquors. My sitter noticed the difficulty I had in walking and helped me up onto the porch, where I sat for a few minutes smoking a regular cigarette. The smoke seemed acrid and toxic somehow and I only took a few puffs before extinguishing it, feeling very much as though I was experiencing the calm before the storm... a sensation that is difficult to express, but I got the distinct impression that my psychological barometer was dropping in the wake of an approaching storm.

My sitter went inside the cabin to note the lack of motor skills I was experiencing, and note the time in the log. Satisfied that I was ok for the moment, she busied herself making coffee and turned on the television inside, keeping me in sight just outside the door. The location we were in is a fairly ancient eastern US deciduous forest, and there were several old growth oaks and poplar trees very near and as the fire cast it's flickering light on the bark of these silent giants I began to notice the first visual effects of the brew I had prepared and it seemed as though the bark had become a living skin of sorts, rising up into the dark canopy above. There was a light breeze, and the chestnut oak beside the cabin was dropping it's large acrons onto the tin roof behind me with incredibly loud pops which seemed to echo abnormally now. At some point while watching the skin of these giant trees pulsing with life, I lay down on the porch in something like a relaxed fetal position and closed my eyes for the first time. There was a shimmering of luminescence behind my eyelids, not unlike the sunlit reflections cast on a celing by moving water, but greenish-blue and ethereal.

My sitter, seeing that I had now lay down stepped out to check on me. "How are you doing?" She asked, her voice betrayed some concern. "I'm good so far." I answered, and described the flashing lights to her as best I could so they could be noted. She sat with me for a few minutes more, asking a few odd questions about how I was feeling and to see if I needed anything before she retunred inside. I closed my eyes again and returned to the gathering storm on my mental horizon.

It was about an hour or I reckoned into my experience that I started noticing some definite respiratory issues. Those familiar with high doses of psilocybin will undoubtedly recognise this sensation as 'forgetting to breathe', and had I not been very experienced with this sensation I'm sure I would likely have been fearful of this. I struggled with this for a while, finding myself occasionally gasping in large lungfuls of air until some inner dialogue began. 'I can't breathe.' I said, and the inner voice very calmly and matter-of-factly simply said 'Quit trying to breathe, it's autonomous. You've been here before, remember?' The curative effect of this inner calming voice was immediate and as soon as I quit thinking about breathing, my body took over and that was the only issue I had aside from the loss of motor skills.

The storm gathered force now, and the ripples of odd luminescence in my closed eye visuals intensified now. I found myself now largely incapacitated, and physcial movement was acheived only through significant efforts and will. I managed to reach into my shirt pocket and produce the large acorn I had picked up earlier and gripped it tightly in my palm, and there it would stay in my hand, an anchor to the physical realm as I slowly slipped into the next world. The light show solidified now into a definite form and I found myself then surrounded by a shimmering multi-colored fluid membrane. Purples and reds, blues and greens all in individual cells pulsating and rippling around me. Shocked at this sudden transition, I opened my eyes and it was gone and I was back on the porch laying there beneath the massive chestnut oak. I told my sitter what I was seeing, and while I don't remember the exact description I gave, it was recorded in the log as being like 'Shimmering liquid peacock feathers that flowed around me and vanished when I opened my eyes.'
A few questions and comments were exchanged, and satisfied that I was alright, my sitter went back in the cabin and I closed my eyes again, immediately greeted with the increible cave-like structure I was in. One of the immediate impressions I got was the sense of self-retention, I wasn't high or stoned, nor did I feel giddy or like I was tripping whatsoever. For me this was a profound realization at the time as I was expecting to be completely out of sorts, mentally. It was about this time, perhaps two hours or so after consuming the brew that I was very much physically incapacitated, and aside from the grip I had on the acorn in my palm, movement was largely impossible whether by lack of will or ability I cannot say. This, in all my experiences with various psychedelics was unprecedented and frightening. On cue, the inner dialogue began again...

'I can't move' I told myself, and the same reassuring voice answered, 'Of course not, you're dying.' At first this alarmed me greatly, and my inability to move greatly compounded this fear. 'I don't want to die.' I said again to myself in a growing but brief panic, but the voice was very calm and laughed lightly as it continued, 'It's too late. You drank a poison, and you have to die now to get where you're going. It's all part of the process.' While it's difficult to qualify or explain, this explanation seemed completely reasonable and I slowly but surely resigned myself to this fate. Something about the acorn I still held tightly in my palm grounded me and I knew that as long as I was able to feel it and apply pressure to it, that I was still attached to my earthly being. I remember briefly opening my eyes at this point, and just as before, like a light switch, I was back on the porch laying in a fetal position. I started to tell my sitter about this inner dialogue but I was afraid it would have been misunderstood as a crisis situation and decided against it. She was not terribly experienced with psychedelics, but well educated on things to watch for in case of emergencies and I was in no condition to explain what 'I'm dying' meant allegorically to a concerned sitter.

Satisfied that the world still existed just outside my mind, I closed my eyes again now determined to explore and immediately retuned to the multi-colored fluid membrane that surrounded me. Once I got my bearings, realizing that I was either at the center, or the beginning of this place I took my first steps forward and the shimmering membrane reacted with a definite sense of motion, much like a tunnel or a wormhole that opened up ahead of me. As I thought about this multi-colored membrane that the walls of this place were made of, it was as though my mind was making physical contact with it and found that it had a surface tension like water. When I touched it with my thoughts, my mind would stick to it briefly, dostorting it slightly and springing back as I withdrew. This was novel and yet profound, and I spent a good deal of time touching this and watching it respond as though I had just discovered surface tension, adhesion and cohesion.

Feeling now a little braver I began some thought experiments and briefly thought of something that I felt would evoke a positive emotion and to my complete awe, this membrane reacted to this immediately by flowing in rounded and smooth shapes around me. Thinking of something negative also caused a reaction which seemed to tranform it into sharp crystal structures, pointed and vibrating at a higher frequency. I briefly recalled reading in several trip reports about a 'waiting room' that many explorers had mentioned experiencing, but I was fairly certain that I had seen this before in a semi-failed brew so I knew that this was far more intuitive and responsive. 'You're in-between', the voice from earlier now answered my question before I had asked. I experimented with the emotionally responsive textures of this rainbowed tunnel I was traveling through for a bit more before I decided to project my thoughts outwards, wanting to see if this realm would respond.

"Is there anybody out there?" I asked... Instantly, there appeared in front of me a crystalline figure of sharp points and colors with something like a featureless face. This shocked me and, terrified by this, I immediately opened my eyes and again, was still lying on the porch. It took a few moments to get the courage to close my eyes again this time, but when I did the figure was gone and I was alone in the wonderous membrane like cave again. "Are you still there?" I asked, and again as before, as soon as I had spoke it appeared in front of me again. I was expecting it this time however, and was able to maintain my position in front of it. "What are you?" I asked, and it answered. It didn't speak aloud, or make any obvious gestures, but was responding with it's structure and colors which shifted rapidly and much to my surprise I understood it's visual language perfectly well. 'You know what I am." It replied, and seemed bothered to do so by changing it's patterns to sharp contrasted crytals expressing some discontent with my rhetorical question. It was, for all intent purposes, an elf.

"Is this real?" I then asked it, and this seemed to really anger it as it flickered red and particularly sharp crystalline shapes in response "Of course it's real. You're wasting my time." And as quickly as it had appeared it now vanished, and I got the impression that I had somehow insulted it. As I marveled at this I ran through my knowledge trying to remember any part of my research that might be of use in interracting with these beings and I recalled briefly that some shamans in the traditional use of ayahuasca claimed that these beings were our ancestors and people that had passed on.

An experiment came to mind, and briefly I thought of a person who had passed away in a violent act who had some attachment to the property we were on. As a former paranormal investigator, this had some personal significance to it as I was curious about spirits and this person was said to still frequent/haunt the property. He had actually built the cabin we were staying in, and as soon as his name came into my head, another crystalline figure appeared instantly in front of me. Quite different than the first one I had encountered, this one seemed extremely angry and agitated, and before I could ask it was already telling me 'You know damned well who I am." The intensity of emotion emanating from this figure was overwhelming and I was hit with a sudden empathy and profound anger and sadness that I still shudder to recall. I apologzed for bringing him up, and just like that, he was gone. Fear came suddenly as I remained motionless in stunned silence, afraid to think aloud and worrying about what it might conjure up here in this place.

Afraid now to 'touch' the walls, or continue down the shimmering tunnel any further. A porthole opened up in the wall opposite from me and I watched as an octopus like being peered in through this hole and made direct eye contact with me. I will never forget the feeling this evoked. It was the only thing in this place that wasn't crystalline or multicolored, and it peered at me briefly as though it were checking in on things with little more than a passing interest and then it was gone, the porthole closing up as it vanished. Immediately afer that, I began to notice involuntary foward movement now and I was being pulled forward through the tunnel. It occured to me that I was moving through the bowels of something, or perhaps I was taking part of the brew as it moved through my own bowels, a very strange realization that seemed to fit as the cavern around me seemed to now pulsate and squeeze to move me forward. I also thought briefly of a birth canal, that perhaps I was being 'reborn' and the inner dialogue once again spoke, explaining that I was now leaving. I opened my eyes and was again returned to reality, where I was lying on the porch.

After a few minutes of collecting my thoughts and finding myself able to move again I was able to get up onto my feet and make my way to the bedroom where I layed down. As I drifted off to sleep the rainbow membrane now slowy dissolved and became again the shimmering luminescent lights which eventually gave way to a deep and dreamless sleep. The next morning... well afternoon, I awoke feeling very refreshed and had no negative side effects whatsoever aside from a decent case of loose bowels that resolved quickly. The rest of the next day was marked with a positive afterglow and much discussion of the experience, travelers tales.

Thanks for this report. Loved reading it. Must be beautiful to withdraw yourself in the woods for an experience like this, a campfire, a lodge, a sitter.

What strikes me is that you kept an acorn in your hand to have a connection with the physical world. I am not so sure this is a good idea. Letting go is important to leave this world and enter the other realm. It looks as if you are fighting against it. Next time, please drop the acorn .

Great trip report OP! I really enjoyed reading!

As far as the acorn, I need to disagree. For some it can be paramount to have some grounding. Music, icaros, a sitter's comfort or a simple acorn in this case, can help tremendously in navigating a difficult experience. I all to well know about floating off without grounding. It is another approach to these strange worlds. I dont feel either way is right or wrong. I feel if you need grounding, it is good to know how to do this for yourself. Holding an acorn was a very good idea from my perspective.

I'm glad you enjoyed the report. I apologize for the grammatical errors as it is a first draft that I wrote in one sitting, and very late at night. I was going to correct it, but decided to just post it as is, in it's raw form.

I'm not sure what to make of the acorn, but I know that it seemed really important at the time and being able to feel it in my hand somehow provided a great sense of relief particularly when I was completely incapacitated. I don't have a proper basis for comparison without that aspect of the experience, but I do appreciate your advice and will perhaps try without the 'grounding' at some point. The next day I woke up, amazingly still clutching the thing in my hand and ended up carving up a wooden likeness of it later the next evening. I still have the acorn and the carving, they have taken a prominent position on my mantle and has become a symbol of that experience for me.

I did feel like this acorn was a positive aspect for me, at least for my first real experience with this particular tryptamine. It certainly provided some sense of attachment to my physical being, an anchor or perhaps a trail of bread crumbs leading back to the porch where I knew I was safe and still alive. If you're familiar with the chestnut oak, the acorns are huge and it was a solid, heavy thing in my hand that definitely grounded me.
https://www.auburn.edu/a...Quercus_prinus_fruit.jpg

I am very experienced with other psychedelics, though it had been a long time since my last experience. I've taken enormous doses of psilocybin before, and I think this really helped with the respiratory issues I experienced. I'm sure this would have been terrifying otherwise. I have studied relevant trip reports for decades now, and I think this also gave me an advantage psychologically in terms of what to expect but there were still some definite surprises. Chief amungst these was the loss of motor functions during the peak, and as I said before in the report, I'm not entirely sure if this was due to lack of ability or lack of will to move but it was profound and frightening and the acorn definitely helped quell that fear. I felt as long as I was able to squeeze this or turn it around in my hand that I was still alive. I agree with your comparison to Icaros.

Another aspect that really took me by surprise was this octopus-like creature that looked in on me. It was not crystalline or multicolored like the rest of this experience, and when it made eye contact with me through the porthole that opened up for it, I got the sensation that it was absolutely real, intelligent, and though I have no idea what it's purpose was, it seemed to be almost passively interested in taking note of what I was doing, like a child might peer into a jar to check on an insect they have caught. Nothing really menacing or threatening about it, but it reminded me, at the time, of Lovecraft's Cthulhu.

Warning: If you have a twisted sense of humor, don't have a drink in your mouth when you click this image link... LOL
https://i.kym-cdn.com/ph...inal/000/668/915/cd4.jpg

One of the other things about this experience that surprised me was being able to open my eyes and instantly return to reality. I'm still not sure I understand this off and on mechanism or what it has to do with open or closed eyes, but I do know that the pineal gland is a sensory organ which is still used by birds and reptiles to navigate magnetic fields. I assumed that opening your eyes is akin to 'overexposing' in a sense, and this seemed to wash the experience out with interference. I'm not sure how to explain this, but that was my impression. It might have been dose related, but for me there was absolutely no open eye visuals aside from a familiar surreal textural sort of aesthetic quality to everything around me.

So what's up with this Octopus? I felt like this was a sort of scientist or observer who was peering into my experience, but I have no idea what it's interest in me was. The elves I expected, the spirits of the deceased I was too frightened by to continue questioning or validating, but this octopus thing was something else entirely. I'd be interested in hearing other's opinions.

In retrospect, I suppose that my method was irresponsible in terms of estimating a proper dosage. I am fairly skilled and experienced with herbal teas and preparations of various medicinal plants but I know that isn't an excuse for the guesswork employed with this particular brew. In my defense, there is a wealth of pretty consistent tests for tryptamine content with A. madenii and A. simplex foliage, both of which have a fairly clean/safe alkaloid profile as well as P. Viridis, and I felt comfortable including these in what I considered to be reasonable and likely active amounts. The only real unknown variable was the addition of the bark from two roots of D. illonensis, but there wasn't any toxicity that I experienced outside of the loss of motor functioning, and that could have been self-induced as I was still able to grip my acorn and move around with great effort.

That said, I can possibly attribute this wholly to being beginner's luck and I would strongly encourage others to take more care than I did in crafting a more accurate dosage for the tryptamine containing elements of a brew. I regret not being able to convey accurate measurements in the report, and though successful, it will now be difficult, if not impossible, to replicate which is unfortunate as it was a pleasant and profound experience. I got lucky... be careful.