Of Dunebuggies and Rattlesnakes

This is a little gem from several years ago.

Our story begins as three friends, me, Mr. D, and Husband before we were married, embark on a weekend camping trip. Mr. D had friends camping at nearby a lake for 4th of July and we were invited to join the party.

Now camping anywhere on the 4th of July is at best a crowded madhouse. At worst you end up at the very back cove of the lake, squished in like sardines, tents almost on top of each other, which was our situation. This particular lake is also very popular with jet boat owners, and each morning we awoke to obscene thundering of jet boat motors.

My companions and I had arranged to indulge in some extra-curricular activities, namely LSD. For those of you who have never taken this drug, the experience can be both incredibly fun and sometimes terrifying. Your perception of reality changes completely. Any concept of time is gone. While I have never lost control of my functions, I guess this happens from time to time. I also have never had a "bad trip" and have always had a great time on acid.

We arrived at the site Mr. D's friends had chosen and unpacked. We set up the tent, met Mr. D's friends, opened some beers, you know the routine.

Mr. D's friends proved to be the only entertainment we needed that weekend. At the time Mr. D worked in a gas station and the friends we were camping with were friends from work. The group was a mish-mash of missing teeth, hillbilly charm, Keystone drunks and the like. It was truly like camping with the Clampetts. I kept expecting to see the pickup roll up with all the furniture and grandma in a rocking chair. One particular man was the token drunk guy. When we were introduced he was already lit and a few hours later could not stand up without stumbling. He proceeded to dive into the most shallow part of the lake and busted his head open on a rock. Of course, because he was so intoxicated he didn't notice the blood pouring from his head until we pointed it out. Token Drunk Guy then decided to have another one of the group pull him behind a wave runner on an innertube. This was particularly hilarious because he still had a beer in his hand and the driver of the wave runner was doing everything in his power to flip TDG over. Eventually he succeeded and our entertainment ended for a while.

After we'd eaten and the afternoon was turning into evening, we decided to take our treats. Rather than blotters we had sugar cubes. I remember five. We each took one and saved the rest for later. The opposite side of the lake from where we were camping was empty. It was not part of the campground, but was accessible by way of crawling through a dilapidated barbed wire fence. Before the acid started to kick in we walked around to the fence, crawled through and made our way to the far side of the lake.

As our trip began we immersed ourselves into the lake. The water felt like silk and was warm as bath water. Our clothes came off and we swam around naked for quite a long time. What's funny now is that we were just on the other side of the lake, completely visible to everyone camping and it was still light out. Of course, we didn't care at that point. We were absolutely content to lay on our backs in the water as the sky grew darker and the stars began to shine. As the drugs pulsed through our bloodstream and the trip became more intense, the stars looked as if they were shooting across the sky. I couldn't figure out if I was actually seeing the movement of the earth or if I was just trippin'.

We did get out of the water before it got dark and walked back to our camp through the same void in the barbed wire fence. We changed into some warm clothes and attempted conversation with everyone at camp. In our condition this proved very difficult. After ingesting another half a sugarcube each, we decided we liked it better on the other side of the lake and so, once again, set out to cross the barbed wire borderline.

Once safely on the other side we attempted to get into the water again, but found it much too cold now that night had fallen. So there we were, acid coursing through our bodies, pupils as big as plates, staring at the lake and just trippin' and having a good time. All of a sudden we hear a noise in the distance. At first it sounded like a chainsaw, maybe a dirt bike. As the noise grew closer we saw the accompanying lights of a small dune buggy. With a cloud of dust in it's wake the dune buggy kept coming towards us and stopped suddenly a few feet from us. There before our eyes were two men. One, the driver, was a heavy set gent with a long grey beard the likes of which would put ZZ Top to shame. The passenger was a funny looking guy, very thin with a rat-like face. He was wearing rainbow suspenders.

At this point we all looked at each other to figure out of this was really happening or if we were all experiencing the exact same hallucination. We stood there in utter disbelief and then the driver spoke.

"Y'all live around here?"

We thought, where, where would we possibly live around here? Who, if anyone, lives around here?

Husband answered him, "Does anyone?"

What the driver said next would prove most disheartening.

"Y'all better be careful out here. There's rattlesnakes everywhere."

And with that, the dune buggy started up again and drove away into the hills, its' wake of dust still following behind.

At this point we were all freaked out. We were freaked out that we may be standing in a field full of rattlesnakes, freaked out that we may all have just hallucinated some hillbilly telling us about the rattlesnakes, and mostly freaked out about how to get back to camp without being bitten by the rattlesnakes. Husband especially freaked out because he is terrified, terrified of snakes. All he could do was squat down on the ground and be very still so as not to disturb the snakes.

So we all sat for a while and contemplated our options. I wasn't so sure about the rattlesnakes. I couldn't see any, or hear them. I suggested that we start walking back to camp, carefully, and see what happened. As we discussed what to do a commotion began on the other side of the lake.

We heard the whine of several dirt bikes from off in a distance, but clearly close to our camp and getting closer. From out of the trees on the hill above the camp came maybe four or five bikes, busting into camp like the cops. To our surprise, it was the cops. The lights were flashing, the bike motors roaring, and then came the cop boat. We sat on the other side of the lake and watched the entire scene unfold. The cops were clearly in pursuit of someone. They went right to a white Honda-type sedan and I believe took someone into custody. When the bike cops were finished, the cop boat started coming around to our side of the lake. He shined his light where we were sitting and we froze. We were sure we were getting busted. For what? Who knows, maybe we were trespassing, maybe we were disturbing the rattlesnake sanctuary. We just knew that between the cops and the snakes it was perhaps safer back at camp.

Slowly, so as not to disturb the snakes, we found the barbed wire fence and made it unscathed back to camp. We used our small barbecue as a makeshift fire pit and watched the coals glow and change shape. Our trip was coming to an end and our sleeping bags were calling us. Husband decided to sleep in his truck and let Mr. D and I have the tent. Right next to us was another group of campers who had brought along a keg which they had floating in the lake. There weren't very many people to warrant bringing a keg, but whatever, they were getting tanked. This group of campers gave every indication that this was some sort of group home or boys home camping trip. Maybe it wasn't but that's what it looked like to us. The leader of the group home was a large woman who stayed mostly in the tent. What we didn't realize until the camp became quiet was that she had a serious lung problem. Having a bad cough is one thing. When the cough is more of a constant hacking accompanied by the gurgling, moist sounds of lung butter, you might want to think about seeing a doctor. This lady, every two minutes, was hacking up her lungs. Seriously, I think there were actual pieces of her lungs flying through the air, landing willy-nilly on the floor of the tent.

Well this just set Mr. D and I off. It was such a disgusting, constant, flemmy cough, but it made us laugh like it was a comedy routine. Every time she would start coughing Mr. D and I would start laughing uncontrollably. This lasted what seemed like hours until Mr. D and I drifted off to sleep.

This was one of the best times I've had, and is still one of my favorite memories.