First time I took acid I was camping with my best friend camping in my grandparents backyard (lots of land). We popped the tabs, started a fire and took my grandpa's off road, amped-up golf cart/gator vehicle thing on a joyride through trails into the woods to an open cornfield. We gunned it around the cornfield until it got dark about 90 minutes in. We could see and hear the interstate about a half mile away. Headlights were pointed straight at us until the road turned. After that we went back in the woods. It was pitch black by then and the diverse vegetation in the path was chest high. We just took it slow with the headlights shining on these plants which were sweating giant pulsing beads of purple. Best visuals I've ever had. After that we went to a nice, enclosed deer stand to smoke some bud. When we saw headlights, coming toward us, we thought it was my grandpa coming to check on us. We flipped, stuffed the weed in my pocket, and "casually" walked back to camp. Turns out it was the neighbor pulling into his driveway. We went back to the fire (awesome) and coyote yelps really messed with us. I took the atv thing at my peak and gunned it in a field. So liberating. Later on in the night I progressed downwards triggered by an already way too trippy song (I'll ask my friend the name). I was sitting on a log by the fire and the next day found that I had stripped all the bark off with my fingernails. I rolled and clawed at the ground before taking off in a sockfoot dead sprint to Colorado (I live in Missouri). I remember running my balls off and looking over my left shoulder at the pond, and being reset to the same spot each time (being stuck in a cycle is common, but scary, nonetheless). The moon was out of a vampire movie. It actually was a red harvest moon, and I was convinced it was blood. I climbed about 50 feet in a tree (still no shoes, and I'm a climber). This height was my friend's approximation, and I really freaked him out. Of course, I freaked him out. It was a terrible idea. He somehow convinced me to walk back to camp, on the way back I saw the moss on the pond and thought it was ice. I fell to the ground and starting shivering. I saw myself living an additional (not alternate) existence on a high mountain ridge. Still on the ground, I began to claw and eat grass. My more experienced friend tried to get me to snap out of it, but I was convinced I was stuck in the same short sequence forever and that he was the devil (also common). Wanting to escape my now diabolical companion, I took off again, this time to my grandparents house. I was scared out of my mind and longed for the safe haven inside the house, so I rang the doorbell (now 2 am). At this precise moment I snapped out of it and ran back toward camp. I saw my friend halfway there in a field and ran all slow motion movie like into his arms (we usually act like macho men toward each other). My friend was so relieved, because he was freaking out about his lost completely delirious friend. Rightfully so. I walked back to camp, scratched, bruised, and soaked from the dew. About 45 minutes laying down in a tent and making some really stupid calls put me back in the right state of mind. From there on out it was a great trip. The fire was still going strong (what a proven trip toy) and we went up to the pond's edge where we listened to and watched in amazement at easily 15 bull frogs with HUGE bugged eyes. Soooooo trippy. Stayed up through sunrise. The daylight revealed scratches over my whole body. Went straight to a very enjoyable and non-drowsy ten hour shift. Did I have about two hours of a pretty bad trip? Absolutely. Am I glad that I had that bad trip? Absolutely. Those who can relate will understand.