ME? I Thought You Brought It! a "How-Not-To" Camping Guide

The year was 1979; Jimmy Carter was president; the embassy staff was still being held as hostages in Iran; punk rock was dancing on the twitching corpse of disco; and the steel industry was still king in Pittsburgh. Marijuana was not a felony and crack was not on stage yet. As a teenager, I was truly blessed with some older friends, from my South side neighborhood. I am going to slightly change their names to protect the guilty and the innocent alike. Ted was my favorite friend and my idol. At the time he was working at J&L Steel, as was Sarge. Tim was an apprentice electrician whose father owned some property. Spaz, worked at a place that sucked the dirt and ash out of the steel mills' furnaces. Flip was, well, Flip. A phenomenal player on the harmonica, he had some deep issues even back then. Me? I was a sixteen year old buzz-hound whose only clue was that I wanted to be an astronomer. I was the youngest of the group by three years. Ted and Sarge sort of adopted me and brought me along on their trips, more often than not. I came from a somewhat hardscrabble family and those two would quietly foot my bills, wherever they took me. That is something that I am still grateful for- 30 years later.

We were on our way to "the mountains" near Emlenton, Pennsylvania. Ted had a beat-up GMC Jimmy that could get us pretty close to the Allegheny River and we would hoof it from there. The group I was with was, for the most part, experienced campers. I had been both a cub scout and boy scout and had camped, with the members of this group, plenty of times before. The loose plan was fishing during the day, a little sky gazing and marijuana after sunset, followed by a fire and a very special treat along with some booze. That treat was some 'magic' mushrooms, nice and fresh. If you are going to get judgmental on me, read no further. I did not graduate to the hard stuff until I was a paratrooper. I have half a decade clean and no longer do any sort of drugs. I personally do not think weed is harmful, but in recovery I have lost my weed privileges. It is as simple as that. Anyhow, we were looking forward to the evening. The fishing and swimming were great and we were plenty hungry come late afternoon.

After burgers were grilled on the hibachi, we debated as to when to eat the mushrooms. Now the effects are not like what you see in the movies or propaganda films. No bug-eyed monsters or the belief that one can fly, but it does start a lot of head games, for lack of a better term. Much like some women and men become maudlin, when imbibing in alcohol, 'shrooms make every emotion very intense. So our thumbnail plan was a little stargazing with my pride and joy telescope, and then guitars by the fireside. I grew up very poor and that telescope was a hard earned gift from my parents. It was as precious to me as Ted's guitar was to him. Once we realized just how fresh those mushrooms were, we put the telescope in the truck. As the potency of the mushrooms continued to make themselves felt, we attempted to get our camp together before the sun set. On any other normal trip, tarps and a lean-to would have been set up and a large pile of firewood, from dead branches would have been assembled. Twilight was upon us and the fire pit had not been dug. The things we had ingested added a degree of urgency to the situation which otherwise would have not been present. Cue up the 'Benny Hill chasing some honeys' music as we desperately tried to gather firewood. Having voluntarily lowered our IQs, hopefully only temporarily through chemistry, we were as helpless as babes and were beginning to realize it. It was now starting to get dark and our general consensus was that a fire without a pit was a bad idea. Let's break out the flashlights and get our lanterns together were the most lucid plans our addled brains could come up with. "To the lanterns!" became our battle cry.

We were now armed only with our flashlights and a decided lack of sense against the now dark woods. Digging out the lanterns, we held them aloft much like a primitive race would hold out a sacred talisman. Fueled and then primed, the big moment arrived and we held our collective breath. The mantles collapsed into so much dust! Oh, the woe that descended upon us amplified by all that we had ingested. What to do, oh what to do? At first, some half-hearted arguments broke out about blame and possible solutions. We had chosen the site for its field of view and now the cold, cold stars taunted us. Then a thought slowly bubbled to the semi-conscious top of my now drug-induced panicky mind. My folks were not too comfortable with me taking up my telescope on a camping trip. They knew and trusted my older friends and reluctantly agreed away, from the city lights would be nice. As I re-played the discussion in my mind, dad's words came back to me. "It's gonna be a full moon, son. That's gonna bleed out the planets and none of the moon's features will have any contrast." Full moon? Was that what he really said or was it just wishful thinking on my part? The more I thought about it, the surer I was that he had said that. By now, we were all sniveling and none too happy or quiet about the darkness surrounding and holding us.

"SILENCE" I yelled as I theatrically held my arms out and up stretched. "I have just had a vision. There are wood nymphs about. They promise us boundless light. However, there are conditions." Laughter erupted followed by calls for the conditions. "It is but a small boon we ask, so only a small sacrifice is asked for." I started to giggle, ruining some of the effect but quickly got back in character. "All of us must agree to either build them a shrubbery or one of us must agree to name a child after one of the nymphs. Do we agree?" Flip stood up and ceremoniously put his hands up to the sky. "If I ever have a child, I agree. What name shall it be?" he asked. "Wait a minute!" Ted chimed in. "What if he never has kid?" Still in character I said "They said the pledge alone is good enough. Flip do you so swear?" "I do." Now, what is the name or do I have a couple to choose from?"

"The names are 'Drinker of Jackal Urine' if it's a boy or 'Buy Me a Drink, Sailor" if it's a girl." was how I answered. We all started laughing and agreed that as long as it was not raining a good time can be had. Drinks were mixed or rolled and Ted started strumming his acoustic. A few minutes into it, he lightly sang that the East was getting lighter. Within a half of an hour, a huge and beautiful moon climbed above the horizon. Amidst the cheers and horseplay, Flip announced that a deal is a deal. 30 years later, he still has not sired a child. Ted is a professor of English, Tim is an electrician, Spaz is a civil engineer, Sarge is agoraphobic, and Flip is still Flip. Most readers here know about me or can catch up by reading the other articles by me.