Life, growing up in my home town Port Alberni was always spent trying to find that next Epic Blazin’ Spot!
Still today when we return home often a journey to one of the many spots around the Alberni Valley is a must. We have been doing this since the day we met, just going on adventures into the wilderness. We were lucky at school as prior to any of us being allowed to drive or having a car the forrest was just outside the fence. Lunch time was always get-away time even before I started smoking weed, Mother Nature has always spoken to me!
I found my social group at about the same time I got my license which also coincided starting to smoke & sell weed in high school. I had friends prior to that but we had no group, we all fit nicely with the outcasts. Till then we were the “good kids” for the most part, that all changed with association to the outcasts and assumption when we left school grounds we were up to “no good” also. Naturally as anyone already a social outcast now assumed to be guilty of “no good” would do, we joined the outcasts.
Such a Rag Tag Group of tortured souls and misfits, the cig smokers were rallied in as rebels breaking school rules but dotted the lines as obvious out of place normies. From Stoners and The Geeks to The Rednecks and even The Chugs (I swear they called themselves that) the one thing that unites us all was a need to leave school grounds to fulfill our desires. Often a congregation of 100 kids would hit the local stores all at once. They tried rules but we did not pay for anything to begin with so fat chance us listening to that. This was a new behavior we, my little group of friends, adopted in the safety of numbers that we never dared to engage in before. Only after having ample supplies we would break off into directions of preference and head for the trees. Still by this point most of my friends did not smoke weed and the few that did had previously and were the influence for us to join the mass group.
Once getting my license the role of dealer and transport fell upon me more so then I chose it. I did not smoke cannabis though I would go get people and take them to a dealer then to go blaze. Quickly I discovered how lucrative middle manning a service could be, not the product but the experience I provided. I also felt social acceptance for the first time in my life and having never thought cannabis as an illegal substance the appreciation did not feel ill gotten. I could be considered dangerous with what I believe in for law & morality(some people don’t deserve life) but where that stands with something as innocent as mother nature’s medicine cannabis, should be pretty obvious. Money in hand and social acceptance at my side my life finally started following that forever yearning, mother nature’s voice calling ever so quiet yet crystal clear …
~ Come Find Yourself ~
You ask me just a couple of years ago to go out in the forest and find myself I would look at you like you are crazy as fuck! Now I know exactually what is meant when someone says just that, ohh how quickly our brains can change. Knowing how to ground myself and reflecting I can clearly see that back then I did not even know what journey I was being called on or I was taking a journey in the first place. I call it a journey because till the point of smoking weed and realizing for myself how beneficial the effects can be, I had not known myself.
On one of our early adventures, amongst the firsts of many stoned epiphanies, we discovered a “Water Tower” in the middle of nowhere. Only ever found it that once and when speaking with locals afterwards out the creek about it they all reminisced about it having been decommissioned and demolished. Decommissioned it was but not demolished, only the road accessing it was. I did all sorts of crazy shit behind the wheel of my Jeep and this time was no exception driving down the railroad even crossing a trestle I believe was also decommissioned. I had split off from the main road on the railroad searching for a way up the mountain. The main railway up the mountain and main road were blocked so I crossed the trestle and started driving up the dry creek bed. Found a second, probably the original, railway trestle and needed to cross it back the other way to get on the mountain side and follow the overgrown railway. 15 minutes of slow bushwhacking and log hopping later, there was a tree across the path nearly the size of my jeep and from here we walked.
My passengers always enjoyed the adventures and it was kind of an unspoken rule to be prepared for anything. The girls jokingly made up an emergency kit of random things to leave in my jeep which proved to be handy more often then not. From the kit we grabbed bug spray and the clear plastic tarp and off we went to find a nice spot to hotbox. I remember this walk by the number of joints blazed, 5 in total in series 2 burning x 2 burning x 1 burning… I can’t remember who was with me or how to find my way back to that water tower or really anything after that walk in but …
I Can Clearly Remember The 5 Joints Burning To Perfection!
Has The Idea Of Being A Witness Crossed Your Mind?
For me it started as a desire to learn if I could do it.
Maybe It’s Time To Run That Idea Out?
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