Citation: southoftheborder. "Nice Weather for Mescaline: An Experience with Mescaline (exp112176)". Erowid.org. Jul 25, 2018. erowid.org/exp/112176
(This experience took place in April 2018)
For the past several months, I have been taking a break from psychedelic use—nothing dosed for five months, and my last “proper” trip nine months ago—largely to focus on a busier work schedule. Lately, with my schedule easing up and spring warmth finally reaching my frigid home, I felt it was a good time to return to tripping. Right around this time, a unique opportunity on the darknet presented itself—the details are left to the reader’s imagination, but the end result was two grams of synthetic mescaline hydrochloride—a beautiful mix of flaky white crystals and glistening off-white chunks. No cactus material to choke down, no minor alkaloids to color the experience.
Past experience: several 4-HO-MET experiences in the range of 15-45mg, ranging from a lightly trippy, colorful day on the low end to intensely visual, mind-bending experiences on the high end. Threshold doses of several other compounds (3C-E, AL-LAD, ETH-LAD) I never got around to exploring further.
T-15m: I have heard of mescaline’s reputation for nausea, so I brew some hot black tea, add a 1/4tsp of ground ginger, and 1tsp molasses to make a soothing antiemetic beverage.
T+0m to T+1h: I measure out 304mg mescaline, dissolve it in a small cup of water, and sip the disgustingly bitter solution, sipping the tea to help wash out the taste. After aimlessly browsing the internet for an hour, I feel what seems to be an alert, and decide to get going. I pack a light lunch, get on my bike, and head out to a small clearing along a forest trail I often ride through.
T+1h20 to T+2h: A light body buzz has settled in. Compared to the “electric” feeling I get from metocin, mescaline offers a smoother, all-around feeling of warmth that ebbs and flows. I sit down to admire the scenery—all is pleasant, but I get the impression I have underdosed given how weak the effects are. As I pack up and ride back, I notice more and more that something is different about the way I think and perceive the environment. About two hours in, I enter a straight section of trail flanked by pine trees, stare ahead—and notice the view stretch out into a hall of row after row of fractal trees, with the colors of the dirt path, the grass, and the sky glowing softly, and a smile spreads across my face as I realize the mescaline is taking hold. Closing my eyes, I see angular, maze-like patterns etched into the darkness—a notable contrast with the curvier, sunflower-like visuals I typically see with metocin.
T+2h to 4h: I continue riding around, taking in the sights, gradually settling into the body high as if I were wading into a warm summer sea. I come back home to rest a bit and settle into bed. I pull out my phone and briefly browse a particular video game forum I frequent, but none of it seems interesting or relevant—in fact, a lot of the topics seem pointlessly negative, and I feel an impulse to get away from the complaints. I instead switch to looking at cat pictures. The shimmering and flowing fur makes every cat mesmerizing. I reflect on how I’ve always wanted a cat, and a bout of intense loneliness strikes me—to dispel it, I play a certain colorful multiplayer shooter. Winning, or even competing, is no concern—I am happy to just watch my character splash paint around.
T+4h30m to T+6h: I come back outside and ride to the top of a hill, sitting down at a bench shaded by some trees, and overlooking a small gated pasture where a pair of horses grazed. I focused my gaze on a water tower on a distant hill, and every pattern in the surroundings—the grass in front of me, the stone tiles under my feet, the line of trees bisecting the park, and the rolling hills beyond—began to repeat and mirror itself, transforming into a tunnel that seemed to extend to infinity, centered on that lonely water tower. My perception of time seems to stretch together with the visuals, but then snaps back as I decide to break my focus, and ride off to another bench to repeat the experiment from another perspective.
My perception of time seems to stretch together with the visuals, but then snaps back as I decide to break my focus, and ride off to another bench to repeat the experiment from another perspective.
This bench is shaded by a lone tree, overlooking the park plain. My mind amplifies the patterns swept by wind blowing across the grass, forming concentric circles that extend up into the sky, merging with some light wispy clouds, slowly rippling and flowing.
I watch the circle pattern, and perceive myself as an extension of it. It inspires me to consider how I socialize with people—I have always been introverted, and often overestimate the risks of committing to anything (putting myself out there in conversations, hitting up people to hangout, etc.). It seems like a lot of effort to keep up a relationship, but the reward is in having people I can trust and fall back on because of the common interests we share.
These all seem like obvious thoughts, but something about having the mescaline headspace walk me through the process makes it seem like an immense burden is lifted. At this point, Lemon Jelly’s Nice Weather for Ducks comes on in my playlist, and I spend the next five minutes almost continuously crying tears of joy—all I can think about is that life is good and wonderful, and that nothing could ever change that fact. Describing the feeling is difficult; it’s pure, sincere happiness on a level I have never felt before. Then the song ends, and joy is replaced by a profound and deep sensation of peace. I can’t think of anything else to do, so I decide to have lunch—I retrieve an apple and chips from my packed lunch—the explosion of flavor from every bite is so overwhelming, that I have to pause between bites to let the sensation subside.
Returning home again, the effects flare up again, and a strong wave of warmth and empathogenic feelings sweeps over me; I was lucid enough to know not to try contacting anyone in my state of mind, but I really wanted to share the trip with someone at this point. So I instead decide to build a “tripping tent” with pillows, blankets, and several plush animals. The soft fabric of the pillows and plushies gently flows and breathes, inviting me to dive in and embrace it all. Here, another song sets the tone—Brian Eno’s Deep Blue Sky. I spend the next ten minutes just relaxing and cuddling with my collection of soft items.
T+6h to +14h: From here the trip recaptures the comeup, but in reverse. I gradually leave the mescaline headspace as gently as I entered it. Taking a hot shower seems to wash away the built-up emotions of the day. I take care of some household chores with the residual energy of the trip, but I’m wired enough that I’m unable to fall asleep until 2am, despite dosing at noon. I thought about taking 1-2mg etizolam, but decided to let the trip completely unwind naturally.
I thought about taking 1-2mg etizolam, but decided to let the trip completely unwind naturally.
The next couple days, and, to some extent, the following week, are marked by an afterglow of an all-around positive feeling about life; I seem to dispel negative thoughts much more easily.
I had a wonderful time with mescaline. I’m struck by just how different, and almost opposite, it is in character from metocin. 4-HO-MET is a brilliant, energetic, and playful compound; it throws me into a psychedelic wonderland of color, fractals, and happy thoughts before sending me back out just as quickly. Mescaline was much more subdued and gentle, but no less powerful. None of this is really new to experienced users, but as someone still relatively new to psychedelics, I find it fascinating that two substances with the same broad mechanism of action can feel so different, while still unmistakably psychedelic in their own ways.
I’d love to revisit mescaline at a slightly higher dose—400mg perhaps—in several months.
PS: A sincere thank you to two certain coworkers (A and L) who happened to be discussing their own psychedelic experiences in my office recently, and whose discussion inspired me to join in, and share a little bit about my mescaline experience with them—the first time I have ever disclosed my psychedelic use to anyone I personally know. If you are reading this, you know who you are, and I would love to talk some more about our experiences sometime.
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