I have always enjoyed good things of life, like wine and cheese, chilling in a hammock, or smelling the good odor of acetic acid. That’s why I decided to grow some weed in my garden, and with it, cook some cute little carrot space cakes.

Cookies from Hell
Cookies from Hell

Fantastic color, nice taste and flying effect. My body used to THC because of casual smoking. But that of my partner wasn’t. So, after tea time and some biscuits began a bad trip for her. You know, tears, panic crisis and tachycardia.

Because of this and my own stoned state, I took a radical decision. I decided to send the evil plant back to hell by burning it. I grabbed a blowtorch and went in the garden with all my stock of sticky buds.

Cruel mistake. I believe I absorbed as much in 25 seconds as I had in the previous 25 years.

Few minutes later began my own epic bad trip. Fortunately I was sufficiently conscious to be able to call my parents to look after my daughters. My partner and me tried to get some rest and let the toxic effect leave us.

One night later, the gigantic amount of THC still was having an impact on me. Surprisingly the effect was still strong and began to affect me in a way I had never felt before. Instead of slowing me and make my behaviour lazy, it was turning me active and psychotic. I decided to go to talk to my boss and demand some vacation time. My job at the time was bothering me, I was getting lumped with tons of crappy tasks and terrible clients. Next terrible decision, I drove my car to work – thank the Lord I didn’t cause an accident! During the trip I made a stop, and at the same time I took the first shot of a brand new freshly loaded roll of Kodak Portra 160.

On the road to the office
To the office – Makina 67 and Kodak Portra 160

At the office, the boss wasn’t here. I waited a few minutes(?), said a load of incoherent things to my co-workers and decided to go back to home. But not by car. My home is about 40km form the workplace by car. But just 15km as the crow flies. And in hunting season, what’s better than a little hiking in the forest…?

I gave up my car, grabbed my Makina 67, and started my detox walk. The last house before the wild part of the hills gave me a strange warning. At that moment, I was convinced I’d soon be taking a walk with Rick or Negan…

Hey Michonne ; where are you ?
Hey Michonne ! Makina 67 and Kodak Portra 160

…except that I was the zombie.

The first part of the path was – apart my suffering brain – peaceful and, well…pleasing. The end of the autumn gave me some wonderful colors which match well with Portra film.

Hello hunters
Hello hunters. Makina 67 and Kodak Portra 160

But soon I reached the semi-desert part of the hills. Add to this the well-known weed effect and shouts of insult to hunters, and I found myself with an intense thirst. After some hours of walk, rock climbing and discussion with goats, I managed to approach the ridge line and take a break near a geological landmark. This was the ultimate shot I took – with only a small amount of energy, and without paying any attention to the low speed.

Portra on the rocks - without water, please
Portra on the rocks – without water, please. Makina 67 and Kodak Portra 160

At this point the thirst was too strong. I found a wild boar muddy water reserve and I took a drink. And, for reasons known only to myself at the time, I threw my beloved Makina 67 in to the water. Them after a few more navigational mistakes I was passing on the other side of the mountain range and going back to home, leaving the camera submerged, where I had left it.

I will overlook the rest of my delirium, by just saying that after having punctured a tire of a car with a giant knife, and threatened my partner, police arrived at the house. And then, after having threatened policemen, I got tased and was taken to the psychiatric cell with a straitjacket. Two days of treatment later, I was able to leave the hospital without legal action and finally apologize to my loved ones. But the Makina and the roll of Portra still were still swallowed up where I had left them.

My partner and I took our mountain bikes and went to find the water reserve. We found it. It was very sad. I retrieved the roll of Portra, went back to home and dried out the camera, convinced that it will never take another photo.

I deposited the roll to my local favorite lab – the somewhat tainted images above are what came back.

And what of the camera? Well, the magic of internet helped me find extraordinary guy somewhere in the Alps. And, thankfully, he managed to bring it back from the dead!

Today it remains my favorite camera, I almost only use it, and it provides me fantastic pics.

I also still have a job, a family, and for now, I no longer use marijuana.

Keep healthy!

…and take a look on my Flickr

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