In the late 90s three friends and I kinda fell in love with this large nature preserve area in northern ohio. From the place where we'd typically enter the area there were foot trails that went on for about 6 miles - and some horse trails that went on for another 6 or so. The forest in that region is super thick and truly beautiful and that area was particularly entertaining to hike around in because every other mile or so the topography would completely change and it'd seem as though it was an entirely different forest, suddenly. Anyway - me and three friends went there early one day, on mescaline. The first several hours of the day went exactly as we'd hoped it would - with us effortlessly gliding through the trails, experiencing drug-fueled wonderment in nature and loving it. After a while though - the heat of the day started to get to us. It was around then that one of my friends thought he saw a small lake down a little hill to his right. So he got excited and ran towards it, stripping his shirt off while he ran. Unfortunately there was no lake there, and when he realized that he got scared. We tried to calm him down, but we only seemed to make it worse - eventually he just took off running in no particular direction. So we chased after him, and eventually caught him and calmed him down (a little) but then we realized we were no longer anywhere near any of the trails. This realization hit us shortly before dusk - when we were several miles deep into the woods before we'd lost the trails. That is when we all got scared and the whole thing got kinda nightmarish. The story goes on and on and on from there, (I can go into more detail of anyone's interested) but it ended with us eventually stumbling upon some creepy backwoods road in the middle of the night and through some miracle a friend of ours happened to be driving on that very road and he saw us and we piled in his car and got the fuck outta there. Worst night ever. For real.