My first Acid Trip 1967

 

“Hey, what's in this joint?”

“Acapulco gold” was the reply.

“Are you completely ripped?”

“No, why?” was not the answer I expected.

Carol and I wanted to hitch up to the city to see The Doors, Thirteenth Floor Elevator and Moby Grape at the Avalon Ballroom. I told my mom that I was sleeping over at Carol's house and she told her mom she was at mine. We had the entire night to do as we pleased.

I dressed up for the occasion and my mother never questioned why. I walked out of the house wearing a blue pin-stripped mini dress with my knee high black leather boots, rings on every finger and some long beaded necklaces. Feeling great and excited to see my favorite bands, I hitched to Carol's and we made it up to the city in record time.

The Drogstore Cafe, on the corner of Haight and Masonic, was a great place for burgers and hippies. We went there for dinner before heading down to the Avalon on Van Ness and Sutter Streets. We both ordered a burger and a coke. The Drogstore looked like an antique apothecary with large dark brown wooden booths that were filled with hippies sipping tea or coffee, eating fries or salads, and talking about the world. The air didn't smell like food though it smelled like patchouli. We slid into a long table with a few others and began chowing down on our burgers.

As I popped a fry into my mouth, a cute long haired hippie cat came and sat next to me. I blushed. I thought he might be hungry and want some of my burger or something. He just sat and stared at me for a few seconds and then spoke, “Hey chick, I am going to put some purple Owsley in your coke, ok?” I laughed thinking he was funny. His smile was infectious and I wanted to know him. I watched as he stirred my coke with a straw. After that he quickly jumped up and ran off to another table. I didn't even get his name.

Thumbs out, ready to go to the concert, a VW van stopped with two cats who were headed to the Avalon. Everything was groovy. They offered us a joint and we passed it around a few times before arriving at Van Ness Ave. The effects from the joint surprised me as I began to get more and more stoned.

By the time we walked to the Avalon the line of hippies was running down the side of the building. The Avalon was upstairs and the entrance was on Sutter St. Since we were there early enough, we fell into line about a half a block down from the entrance. Carol and the two guys leaned on giant plate glass window. I stood staring at all these people I didn't know.

“Where was I?” kept going through my mind. Nothing looked right. I didn't recognize anything. Walking up and down the line of stoned hippies, the sidewalk began to move. Undulating up and down, up and down. The walls and giant windows began to breath. I ran up to one of the concert goers and shouted, “where am I?”

The obvious response was, “The Avalon Ballroom”, but I also heard things like, “San Francisco and planet Earth.”

Each time my response was “Yeah, I know but where am I?

I kept going from one to another asking the same question, “Where am I?”

None of the answers were working for me. Carol gathered me up and me dragged me back in line with her. I leaned on the big window and suddenly it shattered. Tons of sharp broken glass rained down on me. I crumpled into a heap screaming. Just as fast as it happened it stopped. I looked up and there was no glass only a few people standing around me asking me if I was ok.

I stood up and looked at Carol, something was very wrong. I had never been this high from a joint.

As we walked into the dark romantic ballroom with it's red flocked fleur de lis wallpaper, the paisley patterned carpet began to swim on the floor. Floating over it I entered the ballroom were black lights and painted faces glowed and swayed in the purple light. It was the most beautiful scene, like glistening fairies dancing in the night. The oil-and-water light show undulated colors on the wall behind the stage.

The music blasted through the room and my body began to move and sway without my permission. I had no idea who was playing but I was hijacked by the sounds and lights. Dancing and spinning, swaying and singing, I was flying high.

I decided to go to the bathroom as I around for my friend Carol. I entered the long hallway leading to the women's room and the line was to the door. “Never enough toilets for women!” I spouted. Laughter fill the air. I leaned on the fuzzy wall next to a tall chick with long blond hair. We both smiled. As I looked forward, on the opposite wall was a floor to ceiling mirror that stretched across the entire wall. Surrounded by a thick gold gilded frame it looked like the mirror from the book, Through the looking glass. As I stared into it, I saw wonderland appear in all of it's sparkling colors. I thought it was time for me to join Alice and I walked up to the mirror fully expecting to walk right through. It was a huge shock when I bumped into the glass and realized I was hallucinating. All the women laughed and started saying things like, “Man, is she high!” and “Far out! I want what she is on!” Embarrassed, I told them what I saw and stepped back in line.

The night went on like this for hours. The music pulsed and pounded in my ears. I was so high I never knew who was playing all I knew is that I had to dance. I felt free.

Eventually, I found Carol and she had hooked up with some gals we knew from Haight Street and they said we could stay at their crash pad.

When the lights came on, I noticed the walls were intact and the floors were calm. I was still high and life looked different somehow but when we got to the crash pad, Carol reminded me of the cute guy who said he was going to put acid in my coke not just any acid, Purple Owsley was the best acid ever made by the street chemist Augustus Owsley Stanley III.