Citation: SirThorazine. "Trumpets of Germany: An Experience with Brugmansia (exp26332)". Erowid.org. Aug 23, 2003. erowid.org/exp/26332
I began experimenting with LSD at 15 and by the time I finished high school, had gone beyond the 500 mark (that was when I stopped counting), Mushrooms played a small role in those years to based on availability. I did quit a bit of DXM in those days as was the flava for the mohawked kids at the time. I was a punk rock acid head until I went to a Grateful Dead concert in the hopes of nothing more than stocking up on LSD. 4 hits of potent blotter and 2 quarter bags of Mushrooms later, I was prancing around with the other Dead heads to the sounds of Sugar Mag (what an awakening experience) but that is another post for another vault.
I Joined the army 1 year after that redefining moment when I decided that there was something beyond just 'getting fried'. After basic training I was stationed on an air force base in Denver Colorado. My MOS (job) was more of a creative type (multimedia) and being on an airforce base we experienced more freedom than most new recruits. Only about two weeks in, I discovered the psychoactive-friendly world of techno and became a regular at Denver's most elite underground raves. I once again began living on acid.
6 months later I was shipped off to Hohenfels, Germany, a farm town in south eastern bavaria. About a one hour drive to the closest city (and that is going 90mph on the autobahn). I met a guy there from MN who was a former punk. No clue what techno was (and he calls himself a midwesterner?) and forget trying to turn him to the dead. We shared many stories of Punk rock and acid, we became very close friends and began our search.
Within a year of hunting we finally fell into the right crowd. We became highly involved in the Nuremburg/Munich underground techno scene. And after a long hiatus, began frying our brains again.
There was a quiet town he and I would frequent to get out of the scene some times. A place I long to return called Straubing. When we would break from our scene and spent our weekends there, it all became punk-root oriented. We went to the punk clubs. We even slept on benches in the Bahnhof (trainstation). Well one night we figured a 'trip' in straubing with our punk culture would suit the soul well. We happened upon a group of vagabond gutter punks and they took to us very kindly. We were intoxicating ourselves with their provided sangaria wine and bridging the language gap with our similar music and lifestyle influences (mostly a lot of grunting and high fives). Sitting in the middle of the market place around 10pm, one of the punks began picking flowers from a city planted tree in front of the Mcdonalds (yes, they serve beer at Mcdonald's). They looked like giant honey suckles. The girl handed me one. I did the most punk thing I could do and shoved it in my mouth. She copied me, but with no smiles. My friend (who was a little more naive in the drug culture prior to us meeting) started asking me what it would do. I has no idea, I was just trying to be funny. The Punk leader (i guess) began to try to explain in very poor (but admirable) english. K Understood it as a type of trip, he ate 3 flowers. I stopped at the first one because of the taste. Last I remember, K ran around the corner to throw up. That was the last I saw of him that night.
Punk leader took a lot of concern and responsibility for my friend. At one point some one recognizing me as an American brought his wallet to me. Military ID, Money, driver's license and all. Punk leader walked me to the Straubing Polizei sation to see if may had been picked up. Punk leader definately showed more concern as he knew the reaction of those flowers. Eventually, I passed out on a park bench and my punk friends had moved on.
I woke up the next morning in the hot sun in a crowded park, Punk leader and a new girl were standing over me. We once again began searching the streets for my friend. (oh yeah, Straubing is a very small city, I knew like the back of my hand, very easy to cover on foot) Finally there he was! He was wearing a Punk leather jacket that had not belonged to him. He ran to me as though I was his long lost father. His first reaction 'stay right there' he turned his back to me,then turned back to face me 'ok, you are still there' then he explained about how for the last 15 hours he had been on this journey and I would be with him, then dissappear. he told me of all our rave friends he had encountered through out the night. He told me how he was talking to a mutual friend in his car about going to a party for 5 minutes or so, the friend invited him, but when he tried to open the door of the car the friend turned into a terrified old lady. He told of how he had a memory of how he was supposed to help his girlfriend move that weekend (this event had actually passed about two weeks prior to this experience) but when he grabbed a box to carry, a grocer in straubing's marktplatz started beating him up. His stories were nothing more than insane and he was still not right. I asked him where he got the jacket and he said 'I' gave it to him the night before. I pointed out that my leather did not have spikes and paintings. 'woops!!' 'I don't know where I got it then' The stories of his journey were fascinating, he was scared shitless and we were all (punks included) glad that he was alright. But the curiousity was too intense. I made my way back to mcdonald's picked 3 flowers, ordered a hamburger royale (quarter pounder, they don't have the metric system so they don't know what a quarter is) and ate myself two of them jokers. (too nasty tasting)
Well I began my trip about an hour later, not as intense as K's, I also knew what to expect more so than he, and I was amongst friends. I still feel sorry for that poor bastard and the night he spent out of his mind wandering downtown. Time and placement were totally distorted. At one point we left straubing to go to Regensburg and I was sure I was still in Straubing. That type of thing. Walking was embarrassing to the point that I wanted to just sit till it was over. every 3 or 4 steps, my right leg would kick out untrollably like Monty Python's silly walk. This played on my conscience big time. My balance was so blown, I felt like I was falling over while sitting. At one point K pulled me away from walking onto an active train track. I can't remember too much about the experience other than certain flashes. I have no idea how long it lasted as niether of us wore watches or kept time. But I will say for at least a couple of months afterward he and I both experienced side effects. We lost our coordination considerably and we could not think too clearly.
It was an iteresting experience but not a very pleasurable one. As far as I know the tree still stands in front of Mcdonald's. I only recently found out the name of the flowers, but could not tell you what species it was. This is the only account I am aware of where the actual flowers were eaten and not the leaves.
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