Went down south to Hunting Island state park and spent around 48 hours decompressing the island. Didn’t attempt take over the world while I was down there, this was a non calorie burning time out. I might’ve walked 10 miles in two days just to keep sand in between my toes but that was about all the effort I wanted to maintain. I had a little corner spot for my plot of camping land resting between two quiet retiree neighbors and had my tent perch sitting atop the rest of the campground. Hunting island state park is a cozy campground this time of year, it’s mostly empty nesters enjoying the last of their best lives, some in giant 5th wheels while others romanticize the old days in little Shastas. It’s never bustling you may see some couples walking to the beach or giving their pups some leg stretches. They’re all respectful and veteran campers. The most drama you may see or hear on this little island are the couples jawing over the perfect reverse docking of their homesteads in these little narrow plots. Little beeps of backing up abodes. (3/10 alliteration).

I watch some of these old couples walking hand in hand around the campground and I smile knowing they have figured it all out.

The island had a slight chill to it, you could drive 4 miles back towards Beaufort and it felt 10 degrees warmer. There was also a thick persistent fog that stuck around Monday the whole day. For some reason it felt like it didn’t belong there. Only on the island. You could see it hovering over the island when driving over the bridge to the park.

Weird

Not sure what was the going’s on with one of my neighbors. It would seem she was suppose to depart on Monday and had decided to stay another night without checking in with the park rangers. I saw her Sunday when I arrived, we exchanged brief pleasantries and that was the last I saw her. The light remained on in her camper the whole night. Rangers came by, knocked on her door for several minutes Monday afternoon and left. The light stayed on the whole night again but was off the next morning when I was packing. Either she turned it off or the park cut off her power box. If it was the latter then the park might be ignoring a corpse camping in site #111. I saw no movement and I was paying close attention after the staff knocked and left. The camper didn’t move the whole night. The whole time I felt like I was camping next to a dead body.

She’s old but not that old. I’m morbidly invested in her current state of affairs.

I’m curious as to how many times a coroner gets called to these campgrounds. This is where some go to die. Not on purpose mind you but I’m still considered a young lad in comparison to some of my posse here it’s not unreasonable to logically consider that quite a few old folk die in campgrounds. Hell I’ve come close myself. Joking.. I think. That’s another story for a another day. Still stewing on that one.

WiFi went out during the fog. Im not one that needs to be online while I camp but I do choose certain areas if I need to utilize the nets and this is one of them. It was irritating to go offline but I made the most of it. My truck has WiFi if I have an emergency. Like calling an ambulance about a dead body resting next to me.

Jk

I hope

It’s given me a great idea for a short horror story though

I indulged in a little psilocybin Sunday night while I watched the stars on the beach. I’m writing about that experience currently, it takes about a week for me to soak it all in and up. I’ve done mushrooms about a half dozen times in my life. The first two experiences were heavily induced by alcohol which is a wash and a waste. I use them sparingly I don’t microdose it’s a special occasion for me when I do use them. I’ve consumed them four times the last 3 years.

Once while a buddy observed near the foothills trail camping next to jocassee. I watched alien jelly fish heads watch me from behind trees while I sat under the canopy of giant beings with the faces of a feline, bird and a reptile watching over me as if I was in a petri dish.

I laid in my tent in Linville and watched an angel with a 1000 eyes hover over my trailer while the song Grand Canyon by Puscifer played on my Bluetooth speaker. It moved and blinked to the rhythm of the song. All the while I’m lying there unmoving the whole time while the lyrics “witnessing the majesty” kept highlighting in my mind like a electric road construction sign. I had no idea who Puscifer was. If you were to peruse my musical library you will find I don’t listen to music that reflects this genre.

It ain’t my thing but this song is on my phone now and it will stay. If you’ve ever experienced psilocybin you may know what I’m talking about. Music fuses with your mind and body. At least it does to mine.

The last time (before last Sunday) was in lake Powell AZ. I saw Navajos just out of the corners of my sights, witnessed the heavens above the stars and told my friend one of his knees were glowing (he had a knee operation the year before I was unaware about)

As I’ve said I use these sparingly. This isn’t a gummy I’m playing with or happy hour with a friend. I don’t sleep the whole night. I’m done for the next day and my mind seems to be very sensitive to accepting a lot of weird shit for the next 24 – 36 hours. The last one was a good one. I’m still processing. I’ll get back to you.

When I got up the next morning I thought the mushrooms had brought the fog.

Monday was a lounge day next to me tent. I literally reclined in a camping chair and stared off at the ocean for the day. No net, no distractions and quite a story to reckon with from my journey the night before.

I meditated that night in my tent with only the beacon of my headlamp battery blinking green.

During my meditation I hit a euphoric state of mind so intense I thought angels were singing in my headphones (no psilocybin mind you just my regular ol chad vibes). I got caught up in some raging spiritual bliss enough for my mind to make me think that I was on the path to paradise. To me this meant that I was coming to see Elizabeth (Sanford and son reference) I thought I was dying and that’s why I was hearing the chorus of angels through my headphones. Before the “holy shit I must be traversing to the heavens” I went through a 30 minute experience of euphoria, happiness, gratitude, uncontrollable laughing and unconditional love. Then my brain said “you must be dying” every emotion was hooked up to an amplifier and I was vibrating harmony.

Do I sound like a hippie? I sure hope so.

I unzipped every window in my tent and sat outside on my ladder until my brain finally told me I wasn’t dying in fact I had never been so alive. I went to bed and didn’t even move until 5:20 am. I made a pot of coffee and walked on the beach until sunrise

I watched the world slowly wake up, jumped into my truck and set my navigation to home. I was exhausted but rebooted and reborn. It’s a four hour drive and I took my time.

People ask me why I do this so much. One random occasions I grow in different ways on these trips. It slowly molds me into that new Gangwer I’ve been chasing.

That’s why.