One time, in the late eighties or early nineties, we did a 17 mile trek to the top of Mount Olympus and climbed up the scree piles to the top of the ridge to as high as we could get without ice climbing gear and did bong hits (of a legal smoking mixture of course) out of a bamboo bong that I had made, lined with a mixture of pitch and beeswax, until we ran out of matches and then it was getting dark and we had to hang from scrub growth trees as we climbed down mountain goat trails and harvested little red gold and green kolas of kinnickkinnick with my magic knife. Throughout this trip I carved a pipestone skull chillum with which we smoked the kinnickkinnick in a cave underneath the roots of a madrona tree (at sea level, after we got back) mixed with some of the madrona bark and some special treats supposedly brought back by Nepalese monks, and we had visions. Reds and blues and doors opening and pathways unfolding, all in this tiny dirt cave underneath the roots of the madrona right up the cliff from the beach in a park that we heard used to be a potlatch spot. The intention and preparation definitely influences the outcome of the experience, in my opinion.