Weed, Hotsprings, Indians, and Raccoons (765 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.9 on 13 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Esso (View user info) at 2004-03-05 21:21:29 EST
As a young man I experimented with what some might call "The Reefer." Experimented? Dabbled, maybe. Who am I kidding? I smoked it like Dennis Leary on a coke binge. It was easy to do so having friends who were sensimilla salesmen. Dope dealers as it were. I'm not bragging or necessarily proud of it, I'm just setting the stage for the tale to follow.
On a warm afternoon in early fall years ago, Eraser, Styles, and Tony (nicknames that have long since passed away) declared they were bored with sitting around and playing Killer Instinct. I agreed. We needed to get out of the dimly lit living room that smelled of pepperoni pizza and ganja. We needed to get out of our podunk, cow-tipping town. The friendly weather and approaching sunset gave me a great idea of which direction we should head.
"How do the Baker hot springs sound, guys? A two-hour drive, a half hour hike. Shouldn't be too many people up there."
There was a resounding, "Sure, why not?" and we were off.
We hastily gathered some necessary supplies: one lantern, four towels, bottled water, a pipe, and some good ol' Northwest green bud. We were almost out the door when Eraser slapped his forehead in a comical "Shit I Forgot!" style and grabbed my arm.
"Shit, I forgot," he said. "I got this vial of hash oil today. You wanna coat the buds with it?" He smiled. I smiled. We stepped back into the house to do the job.
The drive up there was pleasantly uneventful. We joked around, listened to DAS EFX and Wu-Tang (Eraser wouldn't even give my Screaming Cheetah Wheelies CD a chance), and talked about the previous weekend's crazy parties. Four eighteen-year-old friends on a mini road trip. It was bliss.
After turning off the highway onto Baker Lake Road and taking a left onto a small, partially hidden dirt road, we parked the Duster in a turnout. From here you could look down to the lake and up at Mount Baker. We put our backs to the scenery and hiked into the woods.
A mile later we entered the clearing in which bubbles the hot spring. We threw our towels on a nearby tree branch, stripped of shoes and shirts and entered the warm, sulfur smelling waters with a sigh of satisfaction. I got the lantern going and set it on a large piece of wood floating in the water. It was the perfect moment to light up.
We passed the pipe around and became more and more comfortable in the egg-salad scented pool. It was one of those moments when everyone is quiet, but happy to be together. I stared up at the stars that shone above. Then I heard a twig snap.
Styles nudged me and pointed in the opposite direction of the path. Out of the woods stepped to Native Americans. Indians as it were. One was young, tall, and broad shouldered. The other was short, old, and grey. They said nothing as they came around the pool to where someone long ago had dug out a place to step down.
As the young man helped his elder into the hot spring, Tony lit up another bowl. He cordially offered a toke to the grey haired man.
"No. There are better ways to get in touch with Mother Earth," he said.
Tony shrugged and passed it over to Styles. We were getting pretty high and maybe just a little uncomfortable when suddenly the old man began to speak.
"Do you know of the raccoon?" he asked. We acknowledged with slight nods that yes, we did in fact know of the raccoon.
"I will tell you how the raccoon got the black marks on his coat," he said.
"Raccoon's coat was once all grey, but he has always been curious and crafty. One day his curiosity made him stop and peer into Raven's house. He saw that Raven was hiding some treasures in a large chest at the foot of his bed. This treasure included five large golden rings. Raccoon wanted these rings for himself, so he ran back to his home to make a plan.
"That night he put on a mask to hide his eyes, lit a torch and returned to Raven's house. He crept up to the window and began making howling noises like a ghost. The raven was afraid, but went outside to confront the spirit. Raccoon quickly put out his torch and in the dark snuck into Raven's house while he was looking for the ghost.
"Raccoon got to the chest and grabbed the rings, but knew he needed his hands free to carry the torch so he could find his way home. He put the rings on his tail, relit the torch and scurried home.
"The next day Raven realized his rings were gone and he asked every animal in the forest if they had seen them. When he came to Raccoon's house everything seemed fine. But as Raccoon said goodbye and turned back into the house, Raven saw five black rings of tarnish on his tail. He confronted Raccoon and got a confession. For punishment Raven said that Raccoon's tail would remain striped, his hands would be black to remind him of the torch he carried, and he would always wear a mask like the one he wore the night before.
"And that is how the raccoon got his coat," he finished.
While he was telling this story I couldn't even look at him. I was staring at the stars and felt transported to a time of tribal storytellers and peace pipes. At the sound of a small splash I looked around. The young man was helping the storyteller out of the water. The old man let go of Built Like Brick Shithouse's arm and pointed back into the woods.
"We are going now. They are springs with more power than this." They walked into the forest and disappeared into the darkness beyond the lamplight.
Five minutes passed. Each of us was in a trance-like state. Then Tony lit up the pipe again. As Styles reached out for his hit he said, "Did that just fucking happen?" It was a question we had all been asking ourselves. It was so surreal. The mind and body altering effects of the mountain air, the hot spring, and the weed added to two mysterious Indians walking into and out of the woods stopping only to tell us the tale of Raccoon's Coat left all of us feeling a wee bit off kilter. You have now entered the Twilight Zone.
We finished that pipe load of pot and decided it was time to go home. We hiked through the dark woods, no one talking much, and jumped in the car. The voice of Method Man accompanied by a thumping bass line broke the spell. We laughed it off as we drove back down the mountain.
"What a weird fucking guy!" "Dude was trying to trip us out, shit!" "Ta-Tonka, motherfucker!"
We stopped at our friend Chris's house on the way home and gave him the rest of the weed. I told him it was because we were tired. I didn't want to say that in fact we didn't need anymore.
I never did ask him if he saw any weird naked Indians that night. I wonder...
User Reviews
Submitted by Kichigai (user info) at 2004-04-29 06:35:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
cool story
Submitted by blanco-nino <quepasa.at.micasa.org> at 2004-03-08 21:41:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Nosearian (user info) at 2004-03-08 16:33:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by cellar_door (user info) at 2004-03-08 16:04:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I remember the Screaming Cheetah Wheelies...
Good story.
Submitted by stacenbass (user info) at 2004-03-07 03:30:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"What a weird fucking guy!" "Dude was trying to trip us out, shit!" "Ta-Tonka, motherfucker!"
I get this mental image of a stark raving indian with body and face paint. "Ta-Tonka, motherfucker!"
Brilliant. Fucking Brilliant.
Submitted by esso_merda (user info) at 2004-03-07 03:12:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks everyone. I'm drinking right now and toasting to my well-received weed-head post. True story, this. Oh how I yearn for the back-in-the-day days.
Submitted by MistressSarah (user info) at 2004-03-06 14:28:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well-written. I like.
Submitted by lordofthepost (user info) at 2004-03-06 12:21:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is probably one of my favorite posts now... awesome story man
Submitted by rabbidmonkey (user info) at 2004-03-06 11:17:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"Ta-Tonka, motherfucker!"
That alone gets a +2.
Submitted by RandytheHelpfulPineapple (user info) at 2004-03-06 11:08:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You need a better score, have another.
Submitted by Bennywild (user info) at 2004-03-06 05:02:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Man that was a great story. I am so entertained.
I am also so drunk.
Submitted by RandytheHelpfulPineapple (user info) at 2004-03-06 00:36:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 for toking with totanka
Submitted by freebie (user info) at 2004-03-05 21:42:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
You had weed, a vehicle, and plenty of free time and couldn't find a female to hot tub with you?
Well written story. I liked it, you homo.