DOSE: T+ 0:00	8.5 mg	oral	2C-E	(liquid)
T+ 0:50	repeated	smoked	Cannabis
T+ 0:50	repeated	oral	Alcohol - Beer/Wine

BODY WEIGHT:

165 lb

And it came to pass, that on a long midsummer's day, I received the awaited call from my friend at around 6:30pm.

My friend wanted me to come over to his house, smoke a bit, have a few beers and hang out since we hadn't seen each other for a while. I was living at my parent's house, in semi-rural nowhere, over the summer while I waited for college to begin again, and it was getting old fast. Need I say that I jumped at the chance for any sort of fun?

I told my friend I'd be there in 45 minutes, and started gathering my dirt-biking gear.

T+0:00
I put on my motorcycle jacket and gloves, then strapped into my boots. Then I noticed the 0.5 mg/mL bottle of 2C-E solution in my closet with my biking gear. So I thought, hell, why not take just a little bit? It wouldn't be enough for a serious trip, and it might make the ride over there a hell of a lot more fun. I grabbed my helmet, goggles, and the bottle of 2C-E. I didn't have a graduated cylinder, so I poured some into a nearby shot glass, and estimated it to be around 15-20 mL (a 7-10 mg dose). I downed the 2C-E, making this the third time I had tripped and went out to the shed where my bike was, a blue Yamaha TTR-250 that proved itself practically indestructible over years of faithful service.

I started it up and smoked a cigarette while I enjoyed the beautiful summer day. As I finished the cigarette, I felt the twinge of nausea and anxiety that always accompanies the 2C-E comeup. I put my helmet on and jumped on my bike. I revved it a few times, which put a huge smile on my face, and I took off, the anxiety and nausea melting away as the thrill of dirtbiking took hold of me. I rode down the paved streets from my house until I got to the road that had a trail next to it. I went down that trail until the highway intersection where I had to wait at the pedestrian crosswalk until I could cross. It was about here that I started to feel different. My reflexes felt sharper and my mind clearer. The light changed and the crosswalk said 'WALK', so I hit the throttle and darted across the road, where I was almost hit by a guy who was making a right turn and didn't even check to see if I was there (this happens ALL the time at this particular intersection). I quickly flipped him off, threw my head back and laughed, loving how great everything felt as I snaked my nimble bike between the cars getting gas at the gas station. I felt wired as hell, and I wanted to push it as far as possible. [Erowid Note: Driving while intoxicated, tripping, or extremely sleep deprived is dangerous and irresponsible because it endangers other people. Don't do it!]

T+0:35
Coming out of the gas station I picked up the trail again. I rode for another 6 or so miles, the whole time feeling pure exhilaration, like I had just snorted a bunch of Adderall. I was flying down the trail at around 45-50 mph (mind that the paved road next to the trail had a 55 speed limit and I was almost keeping pace with the cars), dodging all the rocks and potholes perfectly. I felt one with my bike and the trail; I was riding on a steel horse that was picking the perfect route down the trail and all I had to do was decide whether to speed up or slow down. This was an amazing feeling. I had a huge grin on my face, both from the rush and the fact that I noticed that the colors on everything were starting to get brighter.

T+0:45 to T+5:00
I made it to my friend's house, and went inside. We exchanged greeting, and he asked me about the huge grin on my face. I instantly burst out laughing, 'I decided on the spur of the moment to take some 2C-E before I came here, and the ride over was just fucking amazing!'. I managed to stop the giggles, and said to my surprised friend 'But I only took a little bit. Right now it just feels like I snorted a lot of Adderall and I'm not really getting any visuals.' This put him at ease, and we proceeded to have a few drinks and smoke a couple bowls while we watched some ridiculous Steven Segall movie. The cannabis kicked the visuals up a notch, no longer were the colors just brighter and shifting slightly. The wood grain of the coffee table started flowing slightly if I stared at it long enough, and the trees outside were doing a strange, subtle morphing thing while their leaves slowly changed colors from purple-green to light-green and back again. It was around midnight and I decided to head back. I cracked open my last beer and toasted my friend to metal, friendship, and safe journeys.

T+5:01 to T+6:30
I went outside and started up my bike. The sun had set, and it had gotten quite chilly. A film of dew covered my bike, and as I wiped off the seat I realized what the problem was. I had smoked 3 bowls then drank 4 beers and shot of whiskey while I was at my friend's house. I was now drunk, high, and still tripping. Things were still morphing and changing colors, and I couldn't focus very well (it took me a few tries to find the key to my bike and put it in) and I felt very unsure about my prospects of getting home safely in this state. Nonetheless! I rallied myself, swore that I would get home no matter what and got on the bike. I rode onto the street and, oh fuck, this is hard! I could barely drive straight, and the chill weather was fogging up my goggles so I couldn't see. I stopped, pulled the goggles down around my neck, and drank in the cold air to try and sober up a bit. I felt a little better, and I moved off the road and onto the trail. I put the goggles back on and hit the gas.

This is where things get a little crazy. I started going fast, and the adrenaline rush countered the booze well enough. Now I was just really high and still tripping. The trail I was now riding on was alongside a highway. My pupils were huge from the 2C-E and the darkness, which meant the headlights from oncoming cars were blinding me. The morphing made my spatial perception go to hell, and I thought that cars driving on a curve ahead were actually on the trail and were going to hit me head on. So I did the only thing I could: I focused on the tiny patch of light my headlight gave off, trusted my instincts, and hit the throttle. My memory at this point is a little dim, but I vividly remember what happened next.

The trail moved out of the ditch and away from the road a little bit. I could finally see now that car headlights weren't blinding me, and the trail was going up a hill. Here, the trail was about six feet wide, and bounded on either side by close-growing trees and shrubs that met overhead. It was dark, and this gave my tripping mind the impression of a gigantic green tunnel. I was going so fast uphill that it felt like I was flying, that my bike turned from the autopiloting steel horse of earlier to a flying pegasus. I wasn't aware of having wheels anymore, it just felt like I was flying. Morphing branches whipped off my helmet and goggles, and the shadows from my headlight moved, twisted, and swam along with the ground. The whole thing felt beyond unreal. Nothing existed except for what my headlight revealed, everything else was just twisting black nothingness. It felt unlike anything else I have ever experienced before, and I was in awe as I crested the hill and came out of the tree-tunnel.

Then, everything went white.

I slammed on my brakes, totally blind, and almost wrecked the bike when it threatened to slide out from under me on the loose gravel. As I stopped, my vision came back and the source of the blinding light was revealed. It was a spotlight! But why the fuck was a spotlight pointing at me, and who was the asshole that was doing it?

And then a police cruiser materialized around the spotlight.

The cruiser was parked about 100 feet in front of me, on a side road off of the highway, where the trail meets and crosses over it. I came to a complete stop and planted my feet on the ground. Oh fuck. Drunk, high, and tripping. My mind raced as I thought how I was going to get out of this. Cops aren't too friendly to dirtbikers under the best of circumstances, much less at 1 am on a Friday night. The spotlight turned off (thank god), the red and blue lights came on, which to my eyes were just as bright as the fucking spotlight. EVERYTHING started flashing red and blue, while red cop and blue cop popped out of the cruiser. 'State troopers! Turn off the bike right now!' they yelled at me while they walked over. Not a great start, I thought as I thumbed the killswitch.

I put the kickstand down but stayed on the bike. Gotta play this cool, even if everything is red and blue and the cops are slowly getting smaller and then bigger again. Red cop walked over to my right, blue cop to my left. They were both uncomfortably close, sandwiching me in between them. Blue cop told me to get off the bike, and red cop sounded like a smug asshole when he asked me, 'Do you have a motorcycle license?'. You don't need a motorcycle license to ride a dirtbike, so I figured he was trying to psyche me out and put me on the defensive. Fortunately, I actually do have a motorcycle license, so I looked him in the eye and said 'Yes, sir.' Very carefully I stepped off the bike, unzipped my jacket pocket and got my license out. I handed it to red cop, when blue cop behind me said 'Now take off your helmet'. I turned to face him while red cop was checking my license. Not good. Blue cop was staring at me, and my helmet straps are hard to undo even when sober. Any drunken fumbling at this point would not look good. I slowly pulled off my gloves, undid my straps, and took off the helmet. I shook my long hair out and returned blue cop's stare.

Red cop was done checking my license, and now the interrogation was going to start. He was standing on a small ridge a few feet away, so I had to look up at him (I'm 6'5' in motorcycle boots). I focused all my energy on standing upright without swaying and looked him in the eye. I realized that I had to say the right things in the right order to get out of this, and there was no room for error.

'Here's your license back. Where's your registration and insurance?'

'I don't have any, I only ride this off-road, as you can see, sir.'

'Have you had anything to drink tonight?'

'No, sir.'

'Did you smoke any marijuana?'

'No, sir.'

'Did you take any mushrooms, painkillers, medication or anything else like that?'

'No, sir.' My god, I thought. How long is this going to go on? It must be my huge pupils. Although I found it mildly amusing that I had, in fact, drank, smoked, and taken psychedelic drugs.

Red cop paused and looked me over for a while. Obviously I was just going to deny everything. Then he started a new line of questioning. The 2CE seemed to be giving me an analytical edge, countering the haze of the alcohol and cannabis. I felt very aware of how the cop was feeling, and I could tell by his body language and his word choice whether he thought I was a possible DUI or not. It all felt like a giant game where the words were pieces that we moved and fought with.

'Do you know why we stopped you?'

'No, sir.' If I just kept it monosyllabic, and added sir to the end of everything I would be good.

'You drove right across the road back there without stopping. Do you remember that?'

'Yes, but...' Red cop looked at me quizzically. My analytical 2CE mind realized I had fucked up by going beyond 'Yes' and 'No'. Quickly I followed up, but the alcohol and cannabis seemed to have wrestled control of my mouth, saying this gem: 'But I didn't know you had to stop for every road.'

Red cop got his smug asshole grin again.

'So you think you can just fly over the roads without stopping at all? What if a car is coming?' The 2CE cut through the haze, and all of the sudden I knew he was trying to get me to stumble over my words, say something stupid, and reveal that I was intoxicated. With this revelation, my mind scrambled through the haze to defeat this strategy and move the words into the correct position to counter his attack.

'No, I always stop if there's a car coming. But there aren't any...I thought you...erm...only had to stop at marked stop signs...there's...uh...a couple on the trail where the bicycle path is...you know, back there and...a few other places.' I cringed. 2CE had razor-sharp control of my mind, but the booze and cannabis had equally powerful control of my mouth. This was just barely a plausible excuse, but I managed to get the polysyllabic words out without slurring and it seemed to satisfy red cop. They told me to wait and they went back to their cruiser. After an eternity they came back, told me they weren't going to ticket me, but I was to go home and 'don't let us see you around here again.' Then they disappeared into the night, leaving me standing in the dark on the side of the road. I started to wonder if all of that really just happened, as I smoked a cigarette with my shaking hands.

I got back on the steel pegasus/horse, and made it home safely. I still felt a little strange. The 2CE hadn’t worn all the way off yet, and colors seemed a little weird and things occasionally wriggled at the edge of my vision. I awoke the next morning feeling alright, and very lucky.

Exp Year: 2009	ExpID: 89741
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 19
Published: Apr 7, 2011	Views: 5,765
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