The Night the Forest Ate Me
A Salvia divinorum trip report from the Olympic Peninsula
November 2023
“The world didn’t break. It unzipped.”
1. Where it happened
It was the week after Thanksgiving, that wet, windless stretch where the Olympic Peninsula forgets the sun exists. My friend Rowan has a small cedar-shingled cabin two miles up an old logging road outside Quilcene, Washington. No cell service, no neighbors, just the constant drip of western hemlock and the low roar of the Dosewallips River a quarter-mile downhill. Temperature was 38 °F and the air felt like breathing through a soaked towel…
2. What I actually smoked
| Substance | Amount |
|---|---|
| Plain Salvia leaf | ~0.5 g |
| 20× extract (Salvia Dragon) | ~40 mg |
| Tagetes lucida (Mexican marigold) | pinch ≈ 0.2 g |
| Method | One-hit torch bowl, 25 s hold |
4. T+45 seconds
The forest ate me.
Not metaphorically.
I became the forest floor—two inches of needles, moss, mycelium, and black humus. I felt future boots walking on me, a thousand years of rain pressing me flatter…
“You’re early.”
9. Aftermath
I haven’t touched Salvia again. The forest already swallowed me once, and I’m still digesting. That Salvia Dragon bundle was stupidly potent—but damn if Tagetes lucida doesn’t leave a permanent citrus echo in your soul.
Every fern curl still looked like it was laughing.
Salvia divinorum is now Schedule I in Washington State. This report describes an experience from November 2023 when it was still in a legal gray area. Do not attempt. Always have a sitter. Some doors only open inward, and the knob is on the other side.
Sometimes when I hike the Dose now and brush past Oregon grape, I feel a little tug behind my sternum. Something down in the duff recognizes me.
I nod back.