It’s the time in my life which includes many a 50th anniversary commemoration. Defining moments of young adulthood reflected upon in the context of troubling current events. The Vietnam war and Nixon era recalled in times of vexing scarcity, inequality & tribalism. Lest I succumb to a sleepless form of catatonia I now see that some coping skill or deployable tool seems to manifest at just the right time.
As 1967’s Summer of Love spoke of the transformation of youth culture brought on by the inevitable momentum of mass public experience with various psychedelics, so too the dawning of the second psychedelic era appears nigh.
The 70,000 some attendees were strongly motivated to reach elevated levels of consciousness through music, movement and camaraderie with fellow journeyers. Many chose pharmacologic aids: kratom, DMT & MDMA. Classical psychonauts favored the old standbys: psilocybin & LSD-25. Leading this charge was Paul Stamets, master of mycelia. His 90 minute talk, easily the best attended non-musical event of the week (other than the actual eclipse), resembled a big tent revival. While his theme was all things mushroom, his passion for the psilocybe species shown through all; his knowledge and insight avidly greeted by the assembled throngs. The case for micro-dosing psilocybin was detailed and a well- reasoned recipe was offered. This was not news for most. In fact, a show of hands at the start of the talk suggested few had not previously partaken of “magic mushrooms”.
Working with the Rock Med branch of White Bird Clinic provided me an exciting insight into both the pleasures & pitfalls of various means of seeking transcendence. While our service model distinguishes medical care from crisis intervention, the distinction is frequently difficult. Many patients were attended by both types of staffers (who numbered over 300). All told, we sent 17 patients to Bend area emergency rooms via helicopter as traffic precluded land transport. Yet only several of these evacuations were due to “bad trips”. Surprisingly few folks required stays in our “sobering stations” (a.k.a., bummer tent). Meanwhile, we were rarely forced to use the current cocktail for the truly out-of-control: B-52s (benadryl, ativan & haldol) over in the medical tent. Just one festival freaker required ketamine sedation. Clearly a psychedelically “woke” crowd.
We were pleased to be working in conjunction with Dance Safe who provide reagent testing of nearly twenty different psychoactive compounds at similar events throughout the country. Always nice to know what substances people are consuming!
Which leads me to last month’s (Grateful) Dead &Co nearly sold-out show at Autzen Stadium in Eugene, OR. Once again, the Rock Med crew was contracted to provide crisis intervention and medical triage for the 30,000 attendees. My first Dead concert was in 1972 while a college undergraduate. I worked with WhiteBird at an Autzen show in 1993 just prior to Jerry Garcia’s passing. In the interim, the group had emerged as the pied pipers of psychedelically inspired jam bands.
Let there be no mistake; the tradition lives on from the casbah-like parking lot scene to the peculiar form of dancing the music inspires. There were reports of victims of fentanyl laced Xanax tablets in area emergency departments earlier in the week. We identified none of these, but the sobering stations were busy with hallucinogenic journeys gone awry. However, just as many folks succumbed to excessive exposure to the powerful combination of heat and alcohol.
What a long, strange trip it’s been by jove. Perhaps I’m biased given my counterculture infused coming of age but what fantastic timing for the reevaluation. Whether in the faces of the earnest seekers at the Eclipse Festival or the unrestrained spinning on the Autzen stadium floor, one sees the movement gaining strength. Once more, we have in our toolkits powerful means of gaining rapid mystical transcendence. Not a moment too soon it seems.
