Citation: My Digital Past. "Mapping the Frontier: An Experience with AMT (exp32735)". Erowid.org. Apr 18, 2006. erowid.org/exp/32735
Two endeavors into the world of alpha methyltryptamine:
Date: June 2002
Weight: 150 lbs
Dose - @ 40 mgs
Method – Oral, capsulated
Group size – 6
Setting - beach
My friends and I had just gotten through our first year of college. The previous year, we all ventured into a loveable and memorable trip know as senior week, and the memories were fresh with us. Ah, that was some senior week… I had obtained good amounts of foxy, 2ct7 (when they were both legal! That’s amazing) and some Hawaiian Baby Woodrose. But that’s a different story.
So, this year we decided we wanted to go on vacation again. Not to repeat senior week, but just because we wanted a vacation. I had been fairly drug free over the school year… I feel extremes work best.. so when the summertime rolled around I was quite ready to explore the world of psychoactives again.
The world of legal 'highs' was getting shaky though. JLF had just been shut down, so no Foxy or T7 was available. Luckily, I somehow managed to obtain 1 gram of AMT. The rest of the psychoactive elements of that week were supplied by Mushrooms and Syrian Rue… but once again, a different story. Or maybe I’ll get to that later.
Following suit of senior week, we tried to visit certain teachers (my nickname for psychoactives… yeah it’s cheesy… but I like it) during different days of the week that corresponded to their name… for example, Foxy Methoxy Monday, T7 Tuesday… LSA Thursday… well, Lsa Thursday makes no sense… well, the moral of the story is we decided to dose up on AMT on Monday, for AMT Monday.
The time of take off is not quite sure… It’s probably recorded somewhere. My friend and I had previously eyed out the 1 gram into about 40 mg doses in gel caps… a technique that would soon prove problematic. We were aware of the drugs long effects, so we wanted to do it early in the day, so most of the time would be spent on the lovely beach and not in the dark shadows of the night. So here’s how it went.
I remember dosing around 10 AM. I had just woken up, quite aware of the adventure ahead of me. I ate as soon as I awoke, and coaxed the others into eating and then waiting an hour before we dosed. Eventually, the time came around and I brought the bottle out. Those who were partaking (there were 6 of us out of the total 11 in the house – Me, K, F, S, J, M) carefully chose their pill (the eyed out measurements were off… some pills looked like they had more, some had less) . Around this time, our realtor decides to barge into the house. The pills were out on a small round mirror on the coffee table. Almost instinctively, I and those in close proximity to the pills lying on the table create a blocking pattern for the realtors line of view. Apparently, she stopped by to drop off information about what the town has to offer for recreation. She leaves, the house is peaceful again. After the shock leaves, we take off.
(T + 30) During the next half hour, the six of us prepare for the journey. We load backpacks full of food (mostly fruits) blankets, apply tons of sunscreen, make sure we all have eyewear to protect our enlarged pupils from the sun, cd players… that kind of thing. No true effects from the drug were felt, but my common pre-trip jitters were in full effect.
Eventually, the troop heads out for the beach. My girlfriend and I decide to go food shopping (the group preparing for the trip wiped out our fruit supply, and I wanted to make sure there was plenty more).
(T + 1 HR) The supermarket was interesting. I began to notice the AMT reaching from the small of my back when I approached the deli section of this vast and colorful vista. I suggested that I be given something to hunt down in the supermarket….. oh boy.
I’m not a connoisseur of amphetamines, so I didn’t recognize what the drug was doing to me. At one point in the shopping experience, I broke a sweat while trying to decide what brand of product to buy. I became very concerned about which product gave me the most bang for my buck, but then the aspect of quality came into play. All in all, I grabbed control of myself and started to make my exit.
(T + 2 HR) We made it back to the house where I find one of my companions, K, coming back to get supplies. He’s happy to see we’ve bought some more and dives into the bountiful brown bags. We exit the house and make our way to the beach, where K gets the idea to pull out the walky-talky to talk to the rest of the group on the beach. We started the conversation by spurting into the microphone “this is tripper A calling tripper B. Tripper B, do you read me?” We hear voices coming from the black box, kind of jarbled, so we decide to repeat ourselves. This happens for a good three minutes, until we hear the voices on the walky-talky say “Hey, I think this channel isn’t clean.” Realizing that we were just communicating with two random people quite freaked us out, so we decide to put that little black box away.
After passing through the mire of the scorching black top (walking on the lines in the middle of the road... something that makes sense in the tripping world... it just looks right), we finally reach the beautiful haven of the psychedelic beach. There is nothing more amazing than the stretch of water with the curvature of the earth before your eyes and the feel of the sand beneath your toes. Hell, this experience is amazing without the addition of psychoactives. But the tripping world that is produced in this environment is amazing. The agoraphobia never sets in, and no matter where you are on the beach, you feel comfortable and private. And the presence of time and antiquity you can feel on the beach… indescribable. A very uniquely spiritual place, in my opinion.
The exact order of events, say from 2 pm to 7 pm, I do not recall exactly. By this time the AMT has hit us all, completely. But here are the events that transpired during these hours.
One of our companions, F, decides that he wants to drive downtown to see his girlfriend. Of course, no one in the tripping fellowship thinks this is a great idea. But, of course, F is stubborn and hardheaded. He claims that he chose one of the small dosage pills. I make the point that all of the doses were eyed, therefore he has no idea how much he took. Eventually, he leaves the beach along with some others (J and M), leaving me, K, and S. We ask the sober half of our house to intervene and attempt to stop him from driving. Therefore, the problem is out of our hands. Selfish, yes. But to ruin a good trip for others by being selfish is more selfish.
Driving while intoxicated, tripping, or extremely sleep deprived is dangerous and irresponsible because it endangers other people. Don't do it!]
This is my main problem with his actions: By driving under the influence of AMT, not only does he endanger his life, the future life of the rest of the members of the house, and the life of some innocent pedestrian/driver… but he puts the whole drug community at risk! Risk of losing yet again another one of our teachers to the Book of the Scheduled. Apparently it only takes 2 or 3 deaths to get a substance scheduled… so I figured if the worst had happened and questions were asked, it would have been discovered the reason for his mishap, thus making strike one for AMT. (Note – this was written in 2002. Now, 2004, AMT is scheduled anyway... shame)
So, back to the happy world.
S and M had traveled back to the house at some point early in the game. They were feeling the nausea associated with AMT. To relieve their nausea, they ended up watching the hunting channel… I remember them saying “All I needed to get my bearings was to see a bunch of ducks get their heads blown off” Whatever works, eh?
This left K and I on the beach to our own devices… music was in order, I forget if we went in the water (I’m sure we did), and cloud watching was a must. At one point, I caught my friend on his back with headphones on and sunglasses… Now, I have faith in the senses while sober, but not while tripping. Basically, I can never be too sure whether, while staring at the sky with the bright burning sun in its fully glory, if my eyes are open or not. I therefore inform him that he could be staring at the sun, and he changes position. Maybe a bit of paranoia, but hey, paranoia’s a lot better than blindness… or whatever affliction that character got in the movie pi.
When S, K, and I were at the beach together, we were fortunate to witness the lifeguards closing up for the day. Before they did this, however, they were communicating with their flags… a lovely spectacle for the tripsored eye. As we’re wondering what exactly they are saying, S whips out a book. He flips to the index, then flips some more pages, and lays it in front of us. BAM: The entire flag communication language. I forget what the book was called… it’s the art of something. The book contained knowledge of everything man had ever thought of, in neat little diagrams. A very interesting book, and a must have for future endeavors. Of course, the flags were performing marvelous feats of psychedelic trailing and morphing, so it was impossible to discern their message.
Throughout the entire day, there were two recurrent themes. One was that the only girl in our fellowship, J, was having an incredibly hard time with the experience. I eventually came to the conclusion that the amphetamine backbone of the substance really got to her. She could never find peace anywhere. She would go back to the house, and in 20 minutes, she’d be back at the beach. She did this quite often… perhaps 15 times throughout a 5 hour period. Eventually, she found her way to the shower, where she reveled in its warmth. She lay in the shower for quite some time, eventually clothing herself and continuing her battle for peace.
J ends up vomiting at some point during the experience. She is also unable to fall asleep that night. K and I also think part of her difficulty may come from the fact that this is her first psychoactive (yes, we were fools to think she could take AMT as a first time for anything), but also she was raised very religiously… this religious blockade on her spirit also manifested itself during a mushroom trip that same week… while everyone ate the same amount of mushrooms and was tripping face on the beach, she had no effects. Then again, this could have been caused by the effects of residual AMT. Recently, her attempts have been more successful.
The other recurrent theme was discovered by K and I. I forget exactly how it came about, but I am so thankful that I remember it to this day. Somehow we stumbled upon the concept of change. Looking around we found that everything was/is changing… absolutely nothing is constant. Our environment was pure reinforcement of this fact… the rolling waves… the individual grains of sand moving randomly, the marvelous clouds. Eventually, when the sun was setting, we realized that we were trying to hold on to the day… but we had to let it go. We decided that “change is changing”. This phrase still means a lot to us, and was the phrase of the week. Any complication that arose, the acceptance that surmounted from “change is changing” was so comforting it was unreal, almost as if we had tapped into one of the Absolute Truths.
It would turn out that K and I would spend the rest of the night together, walking on the beach until extremely late. We ventured back to the house, didn’t eat, got some warm clothes on, and ventured back to the luring beach. There we decided to walk north. We continued our revelation of “change is changing” applying it to our recent circumstances in life (both our families had gone through divorces in the prior year, and the whole 9-11 thing) and everything else. Eventually, we turned around and headed back. By this time the beach was unrecognizable. We decided to walk on the street, and by some whim assumed that we had overshot our house, and walked in the right direction. We make it home, safe and sound.
Strangely, the only visual I remember from the trip is the dancing of the clouds. K and I were lying on the beach, and K commented on the lack of visual activity. I was being awestruck by the clouds at that point, and informed him of their existence. He too looked up, and we lay baffled for a good while. The cirrus clouds, those light wispy ones, endlessly dancing.
It turns out F made it ok… his driving was able to keep him safe. I’ve never forgiven him for that act, or the other time he did it… driving a car full of four friends at high speeds and then later informing us that he was on (what he eyed out to be) 10 mgs of AMT. Fucking fool.
Also during the trip, K and I began talking about money. I mentioned that I had gotten a credit card, and I forget what eventually led up to it, but K and I decided that I should cut it up. So we did… that was interesting… one of our sober friends was near, and she said “you can’t do that while your still tripping! You don’t know what you’re doing!”.
But man, I knew what I was doing. I wish I had stuck with whatever conclusion I had come to about credit cards… for now I sit in a nice debt hole, having to sacrifice yet another summer to pay off the bill.
The second endeavor
Date: December 2002
Weight: 150 lbs
Dose - @ 40 mgs
Method – Oral, capsulated
Group size – 2
Setting – forest
That following winter, K and I decided to venture into AMT again. This time, obviously, the setting was different… it was winter, and we weren’t at the beach… so we decided that the adventure would occur at a local park… a rather large park.
The park also contained a disc golf course, so the plan was to dose up, play a round of disc golf, and then hike around the forest. We figured at that point we could set up a tent somewhere and enjoy the stars.
A simple plan.
We were both living in the city for school, but it was winter break, so we were temporarily living at home, located in a suburb of the city. So we get up at 7 AM and drive into the city, obtaining the bottle of pills. This is the same batch of AMT that was eyed out in the above story. The bottle had been kept in a freezer, so the potency had not withered. Driving back from the city we stop at a supermarket and load up on fruits and liquids. From the previous report and experience from other substances, the only thing that really can be eaten while tripping is fruit. It’s mentally acceptable as food, unlike some kind of processed food or meat… the processed food would put me on some thought-train of endless bug-out possibilities concerning the current state of society, as would a hamburger.
So fruit it was.
We arrive at the disc golf course / park eventually (no idea what time… 10 – 11 AM?) We make our respective phone calls, assuring ourselves that there are no responsibilities that we have forgotten about. The cell phones are turned off and left in the car. (A general rule for disc golf, and one that should be enacted for tripping… unless the paranoia seeps in deep enough) We dose up, making a toast to 18 hours.
So, by the 4th or 5th hole (T+40 mins), there are noticeable differences. The openness of the park is becoming very apparent, the crystalline blue sky beginning to facet, and the dead of winter (the gray and brown) colors setting an interesting mood. The cold became unique.
By hole 12 (T+1.5), our game was getting difficult. We lay down on one of the frolf T’s (a cement slab) and began to let the drug overwhelm us. The wind began to stir, and the trees near us began talking. We couldn’t tell what they were saying, but they seemed generally content with their state of dormancy and our state of heightened awareness. While on this slab, we further developed the “change is changing” thing, utilizing twigs and such to construct a working model of how the force of change works… It had something to do with a circle and the motion of a select point on the perimeter of the circle vs. time as the circle rolled… you know, that odd plot that it makes.
But the specifics have left us. It happens.
There is a creek that runs through the course, so we investigated that…. oh, was it amazing. The temperature was cold enough that ice had been forming, and it was a little turbulent part of the creek, kind of a waterfall… so these amazingly fantastic ice forms had been produced… this may have gotten us on the whole “change is changing” thing again.
So our world has completely turned by the time we make it back to the car (T+2-3 hours). And the second leg of the journey begins. We prepare for this, gathering our food; I pack a backpack… I bring along the tent and a sleeping bag, aware of the fact that we may get lost and need it. That boy scout motto… always be prepared.. If it was summer I wouldn’t have taken the precaution, but the winter months are less forgiving. We also have a camera.
Before journeying out, we decide to feast on a peach. Amazing. We reach the pits and play with them in our mouths… amazing little devices.. the pit contains all the information needed for another peach tree to go. We decide then and there that we have to plant trees as a symbol of our lives. We still haven’t done so to this date, but someday.
We bring the pits with us and leave the car behind… our journey begins. The park is Brandywine park, so the fact that there was a battle here begins to reach us.
We enter the woods. We hike along and observe the various things we see… introspection, talking, etc. We come to a sign that says “dead end”, indicating that the trail has a dead end. Of course, you know us tree huggers, start screaming “there is no dead end to nature!” And begin trying to uproot the sign. After a short struggle, we realize that other nature-wanderers may need this sign, so we leave it in peace.
We come across a rock outcropping and set up underneath it… it is slightly above the trail, so we have to hike up a steep incline to get to it. Lying underneath it, we come to fully appreciate the term “rock-face”… the silhouette of the outcropping was in the shape of a face. A group of runners passes us underneath, their individual voices deep and alien, the thudding of their feet polyrhythmic.
On the way back down, K loses his footing… seems AMT produced a lack of coordination, bad “body sense”… I forget the psychological term… knowledge of the location of ones own body.
We see a body of water glistening through the trees and decide to make that our destination.
After a good hour of hiking, we realize that we should’ve reached the water by now. Paranoia sets in, as its getting darker (damn winter months getting dark by 5:30 pm).
There is an intersection in the path ahead of us, and our main item of deliberation is which way to go. As we’re discussing this, we’re trying to get a sense of time, checking the sun, trying to calculate how far we’ve walked, etc. My back is turned to the intersection. After a moment of silence where we’re both trying to figure it out, K says to me “Wait a minute… it’s not normal for people to wear purple cloaks out in the forest, is it?”
“What?” I say in utter bafflement.
He then points to the intersection and says that a purple-cloaked figure just walked through the intersection. Immediately, I say “we must follow it!”
We do.. the figure had turned left, so we turn left. Of course there is no figure. I ask him what he had seen, and he says “I was looking dead on, and I saw a purple-cloaked figure walk through the path”… so it was a full blown hallucination. I wish I had seen it, that way it could’ve been a common hallucination.
Of course, within 15 minutes on the new trail, we are out of the forest. Still baffled by the experience, we head back to the car. We did not exit at the entry point, but we were out of the woods nonetheless. (more on the purple cloaked figure later)
Reaching the car, it is nightfall (T+ 8-9 hours). We decide to pitch the tent. Brilliant idea.
We find a spot, lay out the poles, start inserting them in their holes… and then lights… the spinning lights of Authority. The truck drives up to the parking lot and shines its headlights on us, flashing its high beams. It then turns around and heads back down the road.
They were orange lights, so it wasn’t severe, but it was authority nonetheless, and our pupils were still dimes. We took the flashes as a warning sign.
Again, panic. K starts to neatly pack the tent, I just grab everything and head to the car. We cram it all in the back and are then faced with The Choice: to risk driving or explain to this authoritive figure our Position. Luckily, we did not succumb to the happy-go-lucky world of tripping: “Oh, he’ll understand. We should tell him and be safe”… something my friends and I have almost done a couple of times. Instead, we drive.
To this day I don’t know how my friend did it. The time now is around 7 or 8, so we’re at T+10 hours.. meaning that we’ve passed the halfway 8 hour mark of AMT; we’d transitioned from the speedy MDMA like aspect of AMT and moved into that weird LSD aspect of it. This is how I’ve heard AMT described, and although I’ve never done either LSD or MDMA (for reasons I won’t go into), the transition point is very obvious. All of a sudden, I realize that I’ve been tripping for around 7-8 hours, and this retrospective look on the day then kicks in to my head and stuff just gets weird. Things loose their speedy edge and start dripping… like time is catching up with itself. Hard to explain.
So, here we were in the car… K was driving, looking very calm, on top of the world. We had no music, it would serve only as a distraction. Normally, our home was a good 20 minutes away. We decided to break the drive into small bursts. We stopped at parking lots and would chill out for a good 15 minutes and then get back on the road. At the first stop we called a friend of ours (R) and asked if we could chill at her house… explaining our position and all.
So we had a destination.
After 3 or 4 more stops, we manage to make it to her house in one piece. We go upstairs, mingle, chat, talk about what we’ve uncovered in the day… R is hungry. We go to some Mexican food place, K and I brining our fruit. I wearing my Mexican blanket (we see it appropriate).
Nothing really eventful happened in the rest of the night. K goes home, tired from the day.
So more about this Purple Cloaked Woman! K and I have determined that it was a spirit guide.. we’re not exactly sure from where… either it is the AMT spirit, a spirit of Brandywine Battlefield (the park we were at), or one of K’s guardians… K has always had good experiences with most psychoactives, including those I have trouble with, like salvia. So that might be possible.
Recently I’ve become interested in shamanism, as these experiences occurred 2 years ago… I’m becoming more and more aware of the place of psychoactives in my life and in society… helped along quite a lot by the book “Breaking Open The Head” by Daniel Pinchbeck… a book I highly recommend to anyone who thinks that the altered states are beneficial to the experience of being human.
So I’ve determined that the entity we encountered may be the AMT spirit. This summer I plan on pursuing her… basically, I’m going to figure out exactly how she wants to be interacted with… these new drugs need ceremonies… some kind of, not performance, but something… past cultures have used them, from mescaline ceremonies, DMT ceremonies, psilocybin ceremonies, etc.
Basically, many travelers have traveled these psychedelic roads, so what is the best way to do it? What road signs should one look for? etc, etc.
We need to find ways in which these experiences can be utilized to there fullest. For example, in the AMT ceremony that has yet to be discovered, should there be a celebration for the halfway point? Say, after 8 hours, do I change setting? Perform some kind of thing? Play a certain song? And I won’t need a watch, it can be felt. And is a certain setting more beneficial than another? When best to dose up? Have the first 8 hour segment in daylight, and the last 8 in nightfall? Or the first 8 during nightfall, and the last 8 during daylight?
In conclusion, AMT is an interesting and powerful tryptamine. The driving we had to endure I wouldn’t put anyone through, and we should’ve planned better.
The group size of 6 was possibly too large, allowing for factions to form. I noticed this also occurred that same week with a mushroom trip with a group of 6.
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