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Entry date: 3-4-2022 - Disneyland Death Trip part 2 - Letters to My Friends

Dear Friends,


So, yesterday I started a story and today I’m going to finish it. Disneyland Death Trip part two…


The rest of our drive into Anaheim was uneventful. Brian was awake now, so the conversation was lively, and he regaled Michael and I with the details of getting the tire. We started discussing our plan of attack and decided we should probably get some food outside of Disneyland to settle our stomachs a bit before eating the ‘shrooms.


We found an Arby’s near Disneyland and went in and got some sandwiches. As I mentioned, I was on limited funds, so I grabbed a two for a dollar deal on roast beef sandwiches and sprinkled my gram or so of mushrooms on top of one. That was my preferred way to eat them in those days, for some reason, especially on an empty stomach.


We gobbled our food and headed into Disney. I don’t think I’d been there for a while at that point. It has easily been almost six years, so I was enthralled. I’ve always loved Disneyland. Being an only child, I got to go a lot as a kid (or at least it seemed that way), so my comfort level there was high. Plus, we were high. It didn’t take long for our eyes to adjust to the magic mushrooms, and we were giggling like little kids.


We found our way to Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride and got in line with all the other children. We got some strange looks from the parents, but we didn’t give a fuck. I was just shocked that Disneyland was okay with my Butthole Surfers shirt. For a while there, I think I wore one every day. (My collection is still intact, too) The ride was spectacular. I’m pretty sure everyone on it realized quickly there was a bunch of tripping goofballs on there with them, but again, we didn’t care.


I want to say it was a Monday, for some reason, and I think that is probably right, so the park was pretty empty. It was only open until 6pm that day, so we had our work cut out for us. I remember Space Mountain being particularly amazing, as was Big Thunder Mountain Railroad and the Matterhorn. Eventually we needed to mellow out a bit so we thought taking the sky ride across the park would be a good way to chill and get some air.


One of us had brought a joint in, so why not spark that sucker on the Sky Ride? How would anyone know? We did our business and cleared our heads a bit and all seemed to be going really well. We got off the Sky Ride in Tomorrowland and the guy who let us out said his usual Disney shit before the smell hit him.


“DO NOT SMOKE POT IN DISNEYLAND. IF YOU SMOKE POT IN DISNEYLAND AGAIN YOU WILL BE THROWN OUT!!!!”


Looking back, I’m sure he was fucking with us. We were ‘shrooming our balls off at this point and did probably reek, too. At that moment, though, we all lost our minds a bit. I apologized, I think, being the first to find my voice. I’m sure Brian probably wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but it put us into a little tailspin.


We sort of ran/walked over to the submarine ride (big mistake) and got on that to get away from the mean Sky Ride guy. If you remember the old submarine ride, you may recall that it was built as sort of a hell for claustrophobics. Tiny circular seats so you could look out the windows and yes, the colors were spectacular, but after about 30 seconds, we all wanted off. Unfortunately, we had no choice but to ride it out.


After getting out of there, we walked over to the Carnation stand and got some food to help calm us down and it did. We took in the lay of the land and planned out our ride map for the rest of the day. I’m pretty sure we ended up riding Space Mountain about 20 times. There is nothing like a rollercoaster in the dark with a head full of mushrooms.


As things wound to a close at Disneyland, we had the tough choice to make. Strike out for home or get a place to sleep for the night and rest up a bit. None of us were on much sleep, so it seemed like a good idea to find a cheap hotel and spend the night.


“Beach” was the first thing to come out of just about all our mouths as we walked out of Disneyland, so we head west from Anaheim and found our way to the ocean. As we were driving North on the PCH (that’s highway 1 for you detail minded folks, the Pacific Coast Highway), we found a little burger joint and stopped to get some food.


While the mushrooms had long run their course, I was still feeling their effects a little bit, and everything just looked great. Fuzzy, but great. There were a few people in the joint having burgers and such and the teenage girls who were working there were very friendly. They had beer on tap, so we ordered some and they didn’t card us. I had a bad fake ID at the time, but it was not necessary. I’ve always wondered if those gals knew we had just had a very long day and figured they would do us a solid. The beers were probably Bud Light, but who cares. They tasted so good, and we had a few before asking if they knew of a cheap hotel nearby.


We were pointed to place down the road that was about $30 a night and right on the ocean. We ended up staying there a few times over the years on different travels. We all ended up crashing out early and then got up and walked down to the beach before heading home. I have pictures from that trip, and I cherish them.


Brian and Michael are my brothers. Forever and always. These couple of days were just a drop in the ocean for us.


See you tomorrow.



The morning after....beer for breakfast.



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