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Driving 110MPH off a Cliff and I SAW GOD

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Driving 110MPH off a Cliff and I SAW GOD

 
I find It some what difficult to describe what had happened that night long ago on a mountain road in Colorado. This is a story that I have wanted to write about for many years. I just did not have the time or ability to do so. Today I am so situated that I can devote most of my time learning to become more effective and efficient with what I now know as my spiritual journey.

Let me start story, back at my little cabin that I lived in. It was a small 1 bedroom on the north side of Cheyenne Canyon in Colorado Springs. It was the first of many places I lived, or should I really say, suffered in.

god Driving 110MPH off a Cliff and I SAW GOD 9k

As a young alcoholic, drug addict you can imagine the kind of life I was living. It was not a life I would wish on anyone. I’m quite sure not many people would have been able to survive what I had been doing to myself. I was only 19 years old and had been drinking and using since I was 11.

This was my neighborhood that I grew up in from 1970 thru 1977. The Broadmoor Hotel. The perfect place for a little junkie. My local hangout was one of the finest hotels in America. During the summer month, it was filled with families from all over the world.

As a young virile teen I became well versed with the social elite and especially their daughters. One of the best things about this place was that it supplied me with all type of opportunities to get drunk and high. My lifestyle was that of a young outcast acid head. My drinking often surpassed a lethal level as I was mostly tripping during my drinking bouts. The hotel drug store had a fantastic wine department. On cold days I would be able to take whatever I selected as the bottles fit nicely under my parka. The thought of ever getting caught was a joke, as the hotel security only consisted of a couple overweight guys that looked as if they belonged in some kind of cartoon. I don’t recall the manager of the drugstore ever counting the bottles on the racks. I would think he would be missing the nearly 20- 30 bottles of fine wine take I had liberated each week. Oh well.

By the time I had turned 13 I had become a full blown alcoholic, physically dependant on the need to have a drink, very frequently. As long as I could keep up my intake I would not feel the bite of detox. The amount I would drink was usually accompanied by some kind of accelerants such as the infamous clearlight windowpane. This and many stimulants were always available to me and I can’t remember any occasion that I did not have some kind of intoxicant flowing through my vessels.

At 19 years of age I had become an expert at chemical peace of mind. No form of intake was taboo. Mushrooms and and peyote buttons were considered to be gourmet treats,
while rare we still had a great friend with the hookup.

They say that there is a magic line that you cross if you’re an alcoholic or drug addict. It’s the point of no return and I do recall the day I made the jump. I thought to myself that my life would not last much longer, but I did not seem to care. I may have had a strange kind of deathwish.

All I desired was more, more of whatever you had. It didn’t matter what it was. I was game for anything, any type of experience, good or bad. I welcomed the unknown. One of the favorite pastimes we had was climbing cliffs and rock faces, getting high and pretending to be mountain goats. Ropes and climbing gear were for the tourists. We knew which rocks to climb for maximum effect.

Even at the height of winter we would be found up there, making camp in the snow. The harder the snowstorms, the better. Nothing like tripping in a blizzard. It felt at times like flying a light speed. Each flake of snow would transform into a star and whirl past.

It was this canyon where I learned to drive, to drink, and drug my way into nirvana. It was the place where I formed the weapon that one day would almost destroy me.

After a long night of partying I had to get to work. It was very early and I did not have much sleep the night before, as you can imagine. I worked as a installer at a car stereo shop and I did it pretty good. I loved sound and was into rock music. Led Zep, Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, Jimi Hendrix, were bands that we would devote many hours.

It so happened that my neighbors had a country rock band, Mesa Rose, and they had a gig up in Cripple Creek that night and I was the sound guy/roadie for them. I knew it was going to be a long night so I tempered my drinking a bit and certainly did not take any acid. The gig was set to begin at 8pm, so we hustled the gear into the band’s van and trailer and got rolling up to the Creek at about six. At an elevation of 9,494 feet, when you get there you are already high. In the high elevations of the mountains you had to be diligent, controlling your appetite for oblivion.

The night went well. Back then in Cripple Creek, before gambling was legal, the crowd at the bar were mainly oldtimers and local mountain folk looking to shake off the cobwebs on a Friday night. There was not much to do during the gig, but I did manage to get the attention of a local gals. We shared a few dances and downed a few drinks. Not much but enough to keep the wolf away!

Of course I had very little rest to night before, maybe 3 hours. That was common for me then. Burn up the candle on both ends. The music came to an end and the bar patrons moseyed on out after last call. We let the barroom empty out so the barkeep could lock the door as not to disturb us while we all kicked back a sparked a dobbie up. I had one rolled up as was our custom to do after each performance. I also broke out some powder, peruvian flake, just a couple of lines, that would not be a problem, right?

We finished up our party favors and loaded up the sound equipment back into the trailer. It was another successful night. Rock and roll, mountain country style, a few cold brewskis and a bit of a buzz, but not to much. Or so I thought!

Courtesy of 123rf.com

This is a map of the 2 lane mountain highway sometimes one lane, through tunnels and across bridges. The road consisted mainly of great turns and hills. A twisty turny cruise that was meant to keep your attention. My usual driving style was fairly aggressive and I was familiar with the course. I left around 2:30 and about 10 minutes in front of the band.

All of a sudden I looked up to see that I was heading off the road, I happened to look a the speedometer. It was showing 110mph. How could this be happening. Impossible. I was just driving with no problem. What is going on?

My car, a 1976 Mercury Capri was pointed down an embankment that was bordered by a barb-wire fence. I vaguely remember the car tearing through the barbwire and digging into the soft soil. It then seemed to catapult into the sky.

Now from that single moment in time, I transformed into a being made out of incandescent pearly light. My body seemed to have form but no physical body. Time and space did not exist and there was no up, down, no left, or right. The past, present, or future vanished.
I describe this place as an infinite opalish translucent energy of color, shapes. I was aware of thoughts and feelings of kindness, compassion and love. I was somehow ok with it. It felt safe and secure. What had just occurred did not matter. I was home, back where I belong. Back where I have always been. Peace and bliss, no more pain of having the burden of human form. I was my spirit, free from all the laws of the physical world. This dimension was endless and unlimited.

Could this be Heaven – if not Heaven then certainly the gate to a place of which I still find hard to explain. The time of my stay here in nirvana was interrupted by two distinct entities or bodies of light. I was not frightened but felt warmth and a unity with the company. They had come to be with me in this space to ask if I had any regret in my life. They had come to pass the knowledge of my existence to me as if I was blind and without sight. What I came to understand would be amazing. The spirits continued to inform me that i was not to be there with them. I had not, in this lifetime learned the lesson I was to supposed to learn. I had to go back, return to the world as I had known it.

Courtesy of NYdailynews.com

I did not want to return, It felt like I had always been with them. Time and space did not exist. My request to stay did not find any favor with the spirits. They told me that I was not hurt, I could return with no danger.

In a flash of light I became aware of my broken surroundings. The car had tumbled in the air and flipped over and over, finally coming to rest after hitting a power pole 20 feet in the air. What lay beyond the pole was another drop of 800-1000 feet. It had saved me from continuing to tumble down the side of the mountain side.

I had returned, shaken but intact with all my parts working. I crawled from the wreckage and felt sparks from the car spitting and taking it’s last breath. The steering wheel was pulled down to the floor. The engine pushed up through the firewall. The fuel and oil were spilling from the Capri reservoirs. I made it to my feet and climbed up the scree that the car had tumbled down. It took some time to make up to the road, but I somehow made it.

My mind was still trying to grasp what had just happened and I did not know where I was or which way I needed to go, so I just kept limping down the highway. Sometime passed as I was trekking along when a kind samaritan stopped to pick me up. I could not answer his inquiries but asked him if he could drive me back down to Colorado Springs. He dropped me at the hotel and I called the Highway Patrol to report my crash. I only could tell them the road I was on. I did not know where it landed or in which direction I was going. They eventually found it when a survey team discovered the broken power pole. That was 2 weeks after the wreck.

It took me many years to understand what it was that I experienced. I never ever told anyone about the out of body thing. I did not want them to think I was crazy. Back then people did not talk about near-death experiences. Nowadays they make movies and write books on such things. As I grow older, I often wonder if I am learning what it is the Light Spirits want me to learn. I hope my recovery from addiction and alcoholism has something to do with it. However it turns out I know what waits beyond and strive to be open-minded on all spiritual matters as I can be.

Thank you for your time, it’s important how we use it!
Chris – PHRC

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