DOSE:

225 ug

oral

1cP-AL-LAD

BODY WEIGHT:

148 lb

Embarking on the next chapter of our psychedelic adventures, Nyle and I set out on a bike ride infused with anticipation and the experimental allure of a new substance. Our destination: the final leg of the Farmington Canal, an unexplored terrain for both of us, stretching from Plainville, CT to Westfield, MA and back, covering approximately 100 km. The timing was perfect; we aimed to capture the waning hues of late New England fall foliage while diving into the uncharted territory of 1cP-Al-LAD. After extensive online research, I settled on a dosage of 225 ug’s, and with the clock ticking towards 7:10 am, we geared up for the venture, braving the sub-freezing temperatures and cloudy skies.

The initial leg of our journey unfolded in the freezing cold, hovering around -3C, leading us through the remote stretches of the Farmington Canal, adorned with vast farms. As we approached the Simsbury/Avon area, a town emerged, resembling a quaint village with gnome-like houses. Unexpectedly, our tranquil ride was disrupted by a man vehemently yelling for us to leave the bike trail. We halted our bikes, and I initiated a conversation with him to address the tension. He accused bikers of nearly knocking him off the trail a few days prior, insisting we had ample roads to bike on instead. I countered, emphasizing that stereotyping an entire group based on the actions of one individual perpetuates a harmful mindset. Drawing parallels to issues of racism and prejudice, I implored for understanding. However, he remained steadfast in his frustration, citing his lack of caffeine as a contributing factor. Attempting to diffuse the hostility, I extended a hand in a gesture of goodwill, suggesting that, in a world filled with hate, kindness should prevail. His response was a fist bump, not exactly the resolution I hoped for. As we parted ways, the encounter lingered in my thoughts, a stark reminder of the challenges in fostering civil conversations amidst differing viewpoints. The entire exchange unfolded over a mere 90 seconds, leaving me fired up and reflecting on the pervasive hatred in the world. The incident resonated, stirring contemplations of diplomacy and understanding even in the face of opposing perspectives.

Post this encounter, the "acid" began to weave its effects into our consciousness, subtly altering our perceptions. Though specific time points blurred amid the mission to reach Westfield, Mass., a vivid memory emerged in North Granby, CT. Unfamiliar territory unfolded, a picturesque landscape painted in the vivid hues of late autumn. Trails alternated between barren and leaf-strewn, one section resembling a "yellow brick road" as golden leaves blanketed the trail, creating a whimsical path through nature's own enchanting tapestry.

The next notable event unfolded when Nyle pointed out a house boasting a yard teeming with bikes – an impressive collection of over 100 bicycles. Amused by the sight, Nyle humorously remarked that it resembled his ideal home, a veritable junkyard for bikes. My response added another layer to the amusement; I envisioned Nyle introducing himself on a date, casually stating, "Hi, my name is Nyle, and my home is a junkyard for bikes." This seemingly innocuous comment set off an uncontrollable laughing fit that persisted for what felt like an enduring 30 minutes. It was around 9 am, and there I was, biking on a trail, thoroughly engrossed in fits of laughter. The intensity of my amusement was such that my diaphragm and facial muscles ached from the sustained laughter, significantly impeding my biking abilities. Throughout the ride, Nyle would cycle ahead, glance back, and witness me still immersed in laughter. Even when I managed to regain composure, a mere smile from Nyle was enough to reignite my laughter. Eventually, I reached a juncture where I no longer desired to laugh, yet found myself lacking the control to put an end to this seemingly endless bout of amusement.

We decided to take a brief water and food break near a bridge. At this point, the psychedelic effects had intensified to the extent that I found it challenging to eat, and even drinking water proved to be a task. Nyle, always conscientious about preventing the dreaded "bonk" during bike rides, made efforts to maintain composure. Both of us acknowledged our heightened state of intoxication, with me experiencing mild visuals. Notably, Nyle's choice of headwear, a hat that covered his ears, triggered an unusual association in my mind – it resembled a raptor. Despite being in an elevated state of intoxication, our decision to hop back on our bikes marked the continuation of our journey. It's noteworthy that, although I was significantly high at this juncture, the experience differed from the stereotypical trippy psychedelia associated with substances like LSD or Psilocin. Instead, it manifested as a stimulating and energetic encounter, devoid of the usual psychedelic visuals. My balance remained intact, albeit with slightly wavy vision, and everything around us seemed infused with humor. In contrast to substances like 4-HO-MET, this psychedelic encounter didn't offer profound insights but rather embodied a lighthearted and enjoyable dimension.

A few miles before reaching our intended destination, Nyle received a text from a friend bearing the message, "we have big news." With a hunch that his friend's wife might be pregnant, Nyle's speculation proved accurate. Upon our arrival in Westfield, Mass, we decided to pause and take a break, coinciding with the peak of our psychedelic experience. The laughter was uncontrollable, and Nyle, in an attempt to share the news with his friend, initiated a FaceTime call. However, he promptly informed his friend about our LSD-induced state, expressing his inability to engage in a coherent conversation. Nyle and I were both acutely aware of the ticking clock, cognizant that he needed to return to the trailhead by approximately 12:30 pm. Despite our mutual agreement to regain composure and focus, any attempt to do so was futile, as laughter continued to overtake our every endeavor. The time pressure added an extra layer of urgency to our situation, making the struggle to "get our shit together" even more amusing. This all unfolded around 10 am, intensifying the challenge of meeting the time constraint.

As we cycled back, the persistent call of hunger coupled with a diminishing energy level began to dominate my consciousness. Having covered approximately 35 miles without nourishment or sufficient hydration, I found myself in a state of physical depletion. Once again, we halted at a secluded spot along the trail, where the absence of onlookers allowed us the freedom to relinquish the facade of normalcy, plunging back into fits of laughter. My diaphragm, already fatigued from previous bouts of laughter, along with the muscles around my mouth, ached. Despite my plea for Nyle to refrain from looking at me, the imminent threat of triggering another laughter episode loomed. Acknowledging the need to regain composure, we grappled with the challenge, acutely aware of the impending time constraint. While our perception of time remained elusive and understanding it became increasingly challenging, we remounted our bikes. A peculiar phenomenon unfolded as both Nyle and I encountered a cyclical oscillation between sobriety and psychedelic intensity, with intervals of 3-5 minutes. This unique aspect, where one of us would shift from a sober conversation to a tripped state, and vice versa, marked a distinctive feature of the drug's effects. Presuming it to be an indication of the gradual descent from the psychedelic peak, we navigated through this temporal dissonance.

We found respite once more, pausing on the trail's edge, surrounded by the picturesque scene of trees adorned with orange leaves, gently cascading to the ground. In the midst of this serene interlude, Nyle received a message from his brother, sharing the news of successfully completing his calculus test with a score of 80. Seizing the opportunity for a congratulatory conversation, Nyle assumed his brother was at his house and initiated a call. However, the realization soon dawned that his brother was, in fact, at their parents' house. A palpable fear manifested on Nyle's face, as the prospect of interacting with his conservative parents while under the influence of psychedelics loomed. Hastily, he directed the phone toward my face, allowing me to convey my congratulations to his brother. In a swift and apprehensive move, Nyle asserted, “I’ll need to call you back later,” bringing the call to an abrupt end. Expressing his anxiety, Nyle shared his apprehension about what his conservative parents might think of him tripping on a psychedelic substance.

Back on the road, we resumed our journey. Recreating the familiar scene of the "Yellow Brick Road" spot, the imagery transformed in my mind. Rather than the yellow brick road, the persistent thought of shrinking with each pedal stroke until I reached the size of a leaf dominated my consciousness. Passing another memorable spot, Nyle burst into laughter. He revealed that, in his perception, I resembled a squirrel donning a helmet, navigating a bicycle. Fatigue gripped me intensely, prompting a final stop roughly 15 miles from our starting point. Regaining sobriety, I addressed my hunger by consuming bars and gels tucked into my coat pockets. While this provided some relief, hunger lingered. Returning to the parking lot at precisely 12:40 pm, we had little time for conversation, as Nyle needed to retrieve Stanley from his parents' house. Having regained sobriety, we parted ways, having covered a distance of 106 kilometers – our longest biking endeavor while under the influence.

Reflecting on this compound, my impressions are decidedly positive; it proved to be an enjoyable and entertaining experience. While it may not top the list as my favorite compound, I am inclined to revisit it at a higher dose of 300 ug’s. This decision stems from a desire to offer the compound a fair chance before drawing any conclusive judgments. Additionally, I've heard intriguing accounts of ETH-LAD, a lysergamide analog known for its trippy effects, and I'm eager to explore this substance as well. The journey into lysergamide and tryptamine analogs has undeniably added an element of excitement and enjoyment to my explorations.

Exp Year: 2023	ExpID: 117685
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 32
Published: May 21, 2024	Views: 14
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1cP-AL-LAD (952) : First Times (2), Public Space (Museum, Park, etc) (53)