5: Vision Quest and Rocket's Ascent

Rocket was buzzing around the camp with the sunrise. It was 6 am when I heard a soft “hey Paul, I uhh, am thinking I’m ready to start heading up Mt Massive”, he spoke with bated breath. I could tell he woke up excited to get moving and despite me being very clear the night before that I wanted to sleep in, Rocket couldn’t help himself. It was like Christmas morning. 

“Good morning Brad, that’s great but I’m not ready. I’m going to take my time. Feel free to head up whenever but I probably won’t be ready for about an hour”. 

I was trying to be as direct as possible while hiding my irritation at being woken up on a day where I didn't need to be on trail right away. Maggie was curled up between my legs inside the bottom of my sleeping bag and I was cozy and warm. I didn’t want to move. I could hear the disappointment in his voice. He was once again antsy to go hiking. 

The thing I loved about Rocket was also the thing that was irritating. He was always ready to go even if you weren’t. He had a hard time understanding that everyone on this trail is going at their own pace. Each person is on his or her own timeline and journey. “Hike your own hike” is the unofficial slogan of all thru-hiking. Rocket’s timeline was insanely quick and packed with energy. He was trying to get as much done as possible in the limited time that he had in Colorado. I loved his mindset towards squeezing as much out of the trail as he could but it was also exhausting. 

The last time I had seen Rocket had been the day before I made it to Breckenridge. I had come out of a particularly long stretch of the Lost Creek Wilderness. I had been on my own for a while and made it to a trailhead where I dropped my stuff to rest and looked over to see him coming at me with a big grin and Dr. Pepper in his hand. He had just met a few trail angels and they gave him some supplies. He got an extra soda for whoever he might run into. A thoughtful and kind gesture. The type of goodness that spreads throughout the trail. He told me how he had been waiting because he didn't want to hike alone anymore but he was so much faster than most people. “Dude you’ve got rockets on your feet” I told him.

I drank the Dr. Pepper in about two seconds and the sugar was like heroin through my veins. It tasted amazing and gave me a boost. “Let's go Rocket”. I said absentmindedly. I saw a grin flash across Brad's face and had a feeling the trail name would stick. 

Back at the base of Mt. Massive I finally started moving but at a slow pace. Maggie crawled out of my bag and stretched her legs behind her with a yawn. Even though today was not much of a trail day we were still going to climb thousands of feet in elevation in only a handful of miles up to the top of the 14,429’ peak. 

I could see the rest of the camp getting ready so I picked up my pace. I polished off a 300 calorie bag of dehydrated oatmeal and looked dismally into my food bag to find a single remaining fruit bar. I got a little anxious but what was I going to do about it? 

It turned out Rocket was able to quell his thirst for the dusty trail and wait until everyone was heading out. It must have taken a lot of patience but the battle he seemed to fight constantly was one between added miles and community.

The others were about 50 yards ahead of me and I figured I’d catch up soon. In my mind a less than ten mile day would be a breeze and I’d be bouncing up the mountain like a goat. The majority of my gear was back at the campsite and so all I was carrying that day would be some water, a fleece and a rain jacket for the top. I couldn’t have been more wrong. 

The first hour of hiking each day in my experience was a kind of “wake-up walk”. I usually didn’t hike fast and took my time to allow my central nervous system to adjust to the temperature, the light, the movement and the lack of food and caffeine. After an hour of hiking or so, I would get into a groove where my energy levels would spike and I’d hike at an average of 2.5-3 MPH depending on the grade of the trail. Significantly steep days would be slower but unless I was climbing mountain passes all day I’d have a pep in my step for a good 4-6 hours before I’d need a break. 

Today that pep never came. In fact, it went from bad to worse. I moved slower and slower up the hill. I could see the faint silhouettes of Rocket and the others move faster up the mountain and out of sight. I was so frustrated with myself. “What is going on?” I asked myself, perplexed. “I have less weight, I have less miles, I slept great but I don’t know if I can do this today.” I wanted to turn back around and go rest and that bothered me. I could not pass up the chance at hand to climb this mountain.  

Maggie seemed unfazed and as long as she could sniff out marmots and birds, she’d trot right alongside me. The true ultimate companion, she hiked along behind me the entire way. Fast or slow, she faithfully went wherever I did. She would follow me to the ends of the earth. Dogs are amazing. 

I began feeling like I was going to pass out. My lungs were ready to burst and my legs that normally felt strong seemed to be on the verge of wearing out completely. I took five or six breaks within the first hour. I seemed to be falling uphill as if each step was going to be my last before collapsing to the ground. Part of me wanted to lie down and go to sleep right there. Another part of me wanted to cry and another part of me wanted to punch something. The ambivalence of emotions was overwhelming. 

Eventually, I realized that my energy was due to a lack of food. I was at the tail end of my last supplies and only had the one granola bar left to last me to the end of the day before I resupplied at the trailhead. I had coordinated with Melina for her to meet us later that day where she would take Maggie and bring some food and supplies for the next section of the trail. This would be the last time I would get her help and see her until Durango. So I knew I’d have food that night but that felt like an eternity. I still had to climb this mountain and then go back down, pack up my stuff and hike another 3-4 miles to the meeting point. 

I pushed the feeling down and focused on moving forward one step at a time. I looked up to see one of the guys who had camped near me the night before and had hiked the mountain early to see the sunrise, coming down from the peak. 

“Hey there, you alright?” he asked with a little concern. 

“Thanks. Ya I’m okay, just really struggling for some reason today.” I admitted. “I think I’m just low on calories and need to eat.” I told him. 

“I’ve got some extra food if you’d like?” he offered. “Do you want a meatstick?”

I hesitated and couldn’t respond. “Yes” should have been the answer, but there was more context to why I couldn’t say. I was taken back because it was the first time that I had been offered meat and desperately wanted to accept. But the thought of eating meat made me nauseous. 

I didn't know how to respond. It would be weird to say no and refuse when I told him I needed something and he then offered it. The reason why I couldn't accept the jerky didn't matter to this guy. I didn't need to explain that I was accidentally a vegetarian. 

I also felt weird identifying as a vegetarian and had never actually announced my dietary limitations or specifications before. It was like I was having an out of body experience. I could see myself standing there beaten and exhausted by weeks of hiking, in dire need of calories and the only offer before me was food that I literally could not eat. Like a cruel joke but also, one that was humbling and comical even to me. I was secretly laughing at myself all the while standing there staring at this guy with a dazed look on my face. 

Desperately trying to find a reason to explain why I would need to politely refuse had me at a loss for words. I hadn’t fully accepted the fact that I was a vegetarian because it wasn’t something that I had chosen on my own. I’ve been a voracious carnivore most of my life. One of my absolute favorite meals is a medium rare ribeye grilled on a smoker. Bacon has been a dear friend of mine for years and carne asada is a given on a burrito, anytime, anywhere. 

So it was a new experience to be refusing a food that normally would be my first choice. “Oh thanks man, I uh… actually am a vegetarian '' I said with a little embarrassment at the situation. Beggars can’t be choosers and yet here I was kind of begging in my mind for help. “Oh dude, no worries man, I’ve got some nuts and dried fruit too if you want?” he said generously. 

“Are you sure? I don't want to take your food” I said. 

“Nah man, I’ve got tons of food. I’m car camping down the way and well stocked.” he told me. 

“Thank you” I said with a sense of relief. I told him how I was at the tail end of my resupply and pretty much ran out of food and was getting stocked up at the end of the day but the lack of calories seemed to be catching up to me at the most inconvenient time. 

We chatted for a few minutes on the side of the trail as I chowed on the trail mix. He told me that he had gotten about 70% of the way up Mt. Massive early in the morning to see the sunrise. “The stars were spectacular,” he admired. 

I was mostly letting him talk because my energy was so low and I still had at least 1,500 feet of elevation to go that morning. I could feel each calorie dense nut giving me a new strength. Like a thirst for water - my muscles and cells were celebrating as they were flooded with nutrition. 

After I finished we said our goodbyes and I thanked him again. I started up the slope with a new sense of energy and began thinking back to the interaction. 

Two months prior I had undertaken an Ayahuasca ceremony. I had been interested for years in Ayahuasca as a plant medicine, psychedelic, spiritual experience or whatever variation one might use to describe it and its nature. The experience had turned out to be very profound and one of the surprising byproducts from it was that I had not been able to eat any meat other than fish since. 

Ayahuasca is a combination of plants found in the Amazon that is brewed into tea. It has been used as a medicine and spiritual medium for indigenous groups throughout central and south America for thousands of years. 

The plants are the Banisteriopsis caapi vine and the hallucinogenic plant Psychotria viridis. The active ingredient that creates the psychoactive experience is a molecule called N,N-Dimethyltryptamine or DMT. DMT is also produced throughout the animal and plant kingdom and one of the reasons for why we dream. 

It is considered a schedule 3 drug by the federal government however, much like peyote is to many Native American tribes, ayahuasca is a sacred plant medicine and ritual sacrament for a number of indigenous groups. In reality it is no different than the custom of using wine in communion from a legal and religious perspective. Although the experience from it is on another level that one might get from drinking too much wine.

Western cultures and the Christian church have conflated their own spiritual practices and those of indigenous groups as good vs evil. The explorers and conquistadors from Europe who came across the Amazon not only brought devastation and ruin through disease and genocide but chastised the native groups for their spiritual practices. They believed the ayahuasca ceremonies to be evil. For millennia now the ceremonies have been limited to tribes and Shamans throughout a number of countries like Peru, Ecuador, Costa Rica and Columbia to name a few. 

The vilification of indigenous spiritual practices and cultures are not exclusive to South America. For centuries there has been a myth around the practice of voodoo. Anytime it's represented in the media, whether a cartoon or movie, its association is one of evil. The voodoo doll is always used to punish some poor innocent person by some ugly witch in a lair. The reality couldn’t be further from the truth. From the Drug War policies seeking to control trade, supply and geopolitical locations through Latin America to Eurochrstian explorers trying to do the same centuries before there has never been a genuinely good reason for the prohibition of indigenous customs to be disparaged.  

There seems to be a renaissance of psychedelic compounds and they are becoming more mainstream and destigmatized. A few groups have been given religious exemptions from the Controlled Substances Act which put DMT along with other compounds like psilocybin, cannabis lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD) on the list as scheduled drugs.  

It was here that I found myself reaching out to one of these churches and a Shaman who calls herself “Mama Bear” to get more information about their ceremonies. 

For me exploration isn’t limited to hiking a trail through the Rocky Mountains or to distant parts of the planet. Exploring one’s mind is an adventure in life as well. Life is a multifaceted experience. To explore life is to explore oneself and all the parts of us- more specifically our own consciousness. My mind is the most interesting and the most critical piece to understanding self awareness. In a world with increasingly advanced artificial intelligence and blurred lines of truth vs reality, this scares some people. I’m curious and while I know curiosity is what killed the cat, I am more of a dog person. 

With any attempt at exploring my mind through compounds however, I approach it with a degree of caution. I don’t pretend that substances aren't without any risks and am not looking to simply get high. I find them to be very interesting both in nature and the experience they provide. Mostly, however, they have proven to open doorways into my own self where I feel more connected to life, the universe and others. They really are the red pill that Neo takes in the movie the Matrix. Some people don’t want to know what's on the other side. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it. Both the good, the bad and the ugly. 

This was part of my intention for an ayahuasca trip. What resulted was a discovery about myself that I never expected and this was the first time I had been confronted by this new state of mind in an interpersonal way. 

There was no voice that told me that I was now going to choose meatless options or that my dietary restrictions would become a part of my identity. A day or so after I returned home I noticed that I was craving lots of vegetables and fruit and the more I thought about meat the more queasy I became. It felt odd and I dismissed it. A few days later my daughter had half of a carne asada burrito she did not want to finish. I reached over and took a bite. The response my body gave was like nothing I’d ever felt before. I couldn't even taste the meat, rather it felt like there was something inside of me that said “nope, not today Satan” and gave me an instantly ill feeling in my core. I couldn't spit the food out fast enough. 

I knew after the inability to eat my daughter's leftovers where the feeling had originated. When I had arrived at the ceremony for the weekend earlier that summer. There was a group of about 15 others from all over the country who were joining the ceremony. There were people from all walks of life, ages and ethnicities. 

We went around the circle to get to know everyone and talk about why we were there. This was not a “come get high” kind of weekend they told the group. There were individuals who had gone through some immense trauma. From a diagnosis of a deadly brain illness to surviving the Bosnian Genocide to decades long addictions to meth and heroine. There were some really heavy life stories. People had come for healing. 

I almost felt guilty that I was there out of curiosity. As Thomas Hobbes discussed in Leviathan “curiosity is the lust of the mind”. I didn’t have any PTSD or deeply held trauma that I needed to work through so when it got to my turn I said that I was interested in learning more about myself. I wanted to shake the snowglobe of my mind and see what would happen.

“I feel that we all have many different layers to ourselves and I’ve always liked learning about who I am and what makes me tick. I feel like this experience… or at least I’m hoping… will teach me something that I don't know about myself… that it will open a door to a piece of me I’ve never uncovered”. I told the group. To my surprise I got a round of applause. Something about my curiosity into my own nature and finding ways to uncover that seemed to resonate with the group. 

The ceremony was a weekend long event, where for two nights, a group of individuals from all over the world come together and share the experience. It would be supervised by a Shaman and a number of volunteers. There was music and candles and the set up was focused to feel spiritual. To create a space for good energy. The ceremony started with bringing in the four winds. We stood in a circle outside and faced North, South, East and West. Mama Bear would do a chant for each direction and then one by one we would kneel over a pot of burning sage and she would perform a sort of wave over us to cleanse the air. 

Next we would all head inside to the circular room where they went over guidelines, tips and rules. Things like if you need to throw up, use your bucket. If you are having a hard time at any point raise your hand for a volunteer and ask for Mama Bear to come help. There should be no photos or videos taken due to peoples privacy because this was a very vulnerable state that many people would be in and so respect was paramount. 

Next she would call us up one at a time and say a prayer before offering us the tea. They cautioned that some people may not feel anything and that can be a frustrating thing. There would be another opportunity in the morning and again the following night. 

When it was my turn I went up and got a blessing from Mama Bear. She gave a shot glass of what looked like black tar. I drank it and almost barfed immediately. It was one of the most horrible tasting things I’d ever had. I couldn’t even describe its flavor but if I had to try it was like rotten black licorice mixed with dirt and unsweetened prunes. 

I went back to my cot and lied down. Over the next few hours, the room transformed into a circus of all kinds. I was not feeling a thing but all around me people were clearly under the medicine. One guy was howling like a wolf, another was contorting in all kinds of weird ways. One of the guys Casey was lying on his back with a giant smile and laughing. Mama Bear asked if I’d like to take more tea since it wasn’t working so I reluctantly went up to the throwback another shot of death. On my way back to my cot Casey looked at me and said “Paul, I love you. You have light in you”. I asked him how he was feeling and he said it was the most remarkable thing he’d ever felt. I told him I wasn’t feeling anything and was a little disappointed. He pulled out a pen and wrote something on a piece of paper and said “don't read this now. It's for later”. 

I went back to my cot and lied down hoping that something would happen. A few hours later I still felt nothing while it seemed the entire room was on another planet. Again I went up to get more death juice and back to my mat. Eventually, the sun started to rise and I realized I had been up all night long without any sleep or any effects from the medicine. I was pissed. The woman directly next to me also had not felt anything and with the lack of sleep we both talked about our frustrations with the night. I contemplated leaving. “I don't know if I really want to spend another night like that here”. I told her. One of the rules was that if you left the grounds of the ceremony you could not come back and participate. It had to do with liability. In part there are so many people that come to this ceremony to break heavy drug habits that sometimes people leave to get a fix. If they come back and are under any sort of other substance the combination of the Ayahuasca could be very dangerous. I wasn’t planning to leave and shoot up but I did want to go get some real food and get away from the whole thing. 

Something in me said to be patient and stay though. So I spent the day talking with others about their experience the night before and sharing pieces of my own life. Time seemed to creep by but eventually 7:00 PM rolled around and the ceremony was starting up again. 

This time when I went to get the blessing and the tea, I asked for three times the amount to start. I did not want to go back over and over through the night. “Let's get this done” I thought as I threw back a giant gulp of the tar. I went back to my cot and pulled out my headphones. I put on some music and after about 30 minutes, I sat up and violently threw up in my bucket. I had never puked so hard in my life. It was awful and cleansing. I looked into my bucket and I could see black energy everywhere. It was like I had two sets of eyes. One that could see the physical vomit and a set that could see what the vomit contained in another realm. It was wild. I had this feeling of “oh my god, I’ve been carrying around all kinds of toxins”. 

I lied down and for the next three hours I didn’t move a muscle as I had visions of surfing through outer space to the music. It was like a rollercoaster spaceship in sync with each new song. 

Eventually, I was so tired from the experience that I needed to take off my headphones and sit up. I never knew I could be tired from lying down doing nothing. When I sat up I looked over to see my neighbor Tamara with a terrified look on her. “Are you okay?” I asked her. “No” she said through choked tears. “This is the most horrible experience of my life. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.” she said as she pulled the blanket up to her neck. 

I was a little surprised because I had just gotten back from a journey through space on a surfboard and had the best time of my life. But I could see her pain and I instantly felt like I needed to help her. I went to get Mama Bear for her who came over and took charge, living up to her namesake. Doing some sort of ceremonial chants and rituals. 

I lied back down and thought about what was next. I needed a break from pumping music directly into my head and closed my eyes to see if I could sleep. The blackness behind my eyelids was dark and I fell into a place where nothing existed. I was floating in place in an empty black void. Like an astronaut lost in space but with no stars or light anywhere in sight. I felt the emptiness swallow me up and the only thing I could think about were my daughters. I began to panic as I realized that I was stuck forever and separated from them. I thought I would never see them again and realized that it was my worst nightmare coming true. I shot up from the cot and opened my eyes to see the candles burning softly around the room and the quiet songs of Icaros. Icaros music is a mix of Spanish and indigenous languages that are used during ceremonies to call in the spiritual nature of the ceremony. It can be sung and played through different flute-like instruments and has what I can only describe as a tribal sound to it. It can be very beautiful but also somewhat monotonous and repetitive. In this case it was relaxing and helped bring me out of the darkness that I was experiencing. 

I sat there taking inventory of everything that I just experienced. I had gone from having an amazing time to feeling the saddest and most empty feeling I’ve ever had. It was more than a dream, it was as if my soul had been in a place of abandonment and while I was terrified of the concept of never seeing my children again it was only a brief moment. 

After the experience of not being able to tolerate the meat I realized that somehow I had gotten my wish. I learned that I had been telling myself that I needed to eat meat every day. Without some form of animal protein on my plate, I did not have a complete meal. As I’ve come to reflect even more since then I’ve wondered if I had an addiction that I wasn’t even aware of. One that I certainly didn't need to explain to a fellow hiker offering me a Slim Jim but was still processing at the time leaving me perplexed and caught off guard. 

As I continued up the hill I was about ten minutes from the top. I hadn’t hiked this high since the beginning of the summer when I completed what's called the Decalabron. Four 14,000 foot peaks in a semi circle outside of Fairplay, Colorado. Mounts Democrat, Cameron, Lincoln and Bross make up the quartet and I was forgetting how much of a difference that extra 1,000 or so feet in elevation makes regardless of being acclimated to the altitude.

About 30 minutes later I arrived at the peak where Nat, Ned, Evan and Rocket were all waiting for me. We gave each other high fives and snapped some group photos. “Maggie did great!” Evan said to me as he rubbed behind her black and white ears. 

It was late morning and the weekend crowds were starting to pile up at the top. I hadn’t seen this many people hiking since I had started. It was kind of nice to see families and groups of people out doing a day hike. The sky however, started to inform people that it was time to start heading down. The clouds were dark and moving in fairly quickly from the direction of Mt. Elbert - the tallest peak in Colorado which lies just south of Mt. Massive. 

The hike down took half as long as it naturally would but with the distant rumbles of thunder and the light smattering of rain here and there, I was moving at a quicker and quicker pace. My plan was to get back to my tent, pack up my gear and hike to the trailhead for the resupply. I had sent a text when I had a brief moment of service asking if it would be possible to grab pizza, and ice cream along with the supplies for the next section through the Western Collegiate Loop. I never got a response before I lost service so I was just hoping for good news when we met. The plan was to meet at the parking lot trailhead around dinner time, sleep in the car and she would spend part of the next morning hiking with me before turning around while I continued on. 

I arrived back at camp right as the sprinkle of rain turned into a tumultuous downpour. I couldn't have timed it better. I climbed into my tent as the shattering sounds of rain collapsed on my shelter. I spent the next four hours in and out of a nap snuggled up with Maggie. The lazy afternoon felt so relaxing that when it was time to start packing up I didn’t want to move. 

I had no choice however, I was out of food, Maggie had been a champ but I could tell the four days and 60 or so miles was taking a toll on her and I had a lot of good things waiting for me only a one hour hike away. I slowly got up feeling every ache from my bones to my skin and said goodbye to the group. 

Evans' girlfriend had arrived that afternoon to continue hiking with him and the group so they were staying another night and then spending a few days in Twin Lakes. I knew it would be the last I saw of the Minnesota Trio and wished them well in their journey. Both on the trail and in life. I had enjoyed their company and felt grateful to have shared some miles and meals with them out in the wilderness. Even though I knew it was my final farewell to them I said my standard line of “alrighty, happy trails guys! Hope to see you down the line” as I departed away. Rocket was meeting up with Ungerwear and company who had slipped past us during our climb up Mt. Massive and had taken off before I had even returned to camp. 

I moved slowly and painfully as I packed up my gear. I felt weak and sluggish and just wanted to be done with the whole thing. Maggie and I hiked lazily for the last three miles and arrived at the parking lot to find Melina’s beautiful smile and her dog Scout running towards us with awkward leaps and a wagging tail. She had a six pack, a couple of pizzas and enough junk food to fill my heart's content.