CHAPTER 7 - The Adventure Begins

Author: Tom Campbell. Link to original: http://www.scribd.com/doc/60996035/Thomas-Campbell-My-Big-Toe-Book-1-Awakening-pdf (English).
Tags: Campbell, всеобщая теория Submitted by kostyazen 04.04.2012. Public material.
Part of "My Big TOE" book by Tom Campbell. We're translating it with author's permission. In this chapter Tom Campbell tells his story of working with Robert Monroe.

Translations of this material:

into Russian: Глава 7. Приключение начинается!. Translated in draft, editing and proof-reading required.
Submitted for translation by kostyazen 04.04.2012

Text

The trip to Whistlefield was a combination of interstate and country roads. Most of the mileage was on a brand new, and lightly traveled, interstate. I loved my motorcycle. I loved speed. I loved acceleration. I loved the feel of finely controlled and responsive raw power and I loved the presence, the sense of being alive, and the focus in the present moment that you get on a big motorcycle. You, the bike, the environment, and fate – one tightly integrated package – a shared destiny. That was fun. With Dennis on the back, I resolved to be conservative; nothing over eighty-five miles per hour on a regular basis was my plan. It would not be responsible, polite, or friendly to be reckless with somebody else’s life.

At 120 mph, my bike was rock solid and smooth as silk. It was made for speed, and I was addicted to it. I had driven cycles ever since I was a teenager. With this particular bike, it was love at first sight – the biggest, the best, the fastest. Dennis was fearless, he never once complained or flinched – except once when the drive chain broke while we were humming along at eighty miles per hour and he almost lost a few fingers. A near miss, but when you are young enough to be immortal and invincible, any miss is as good as a mile – we never skipped a beat. Dennis was always ready and relaxed. Mounted on this trusty steel steed we cut the travel time to Whistlefield to less than half an hour.

Once we got through the initial getting-to-know-you data exchanges, schedules were quickly worked out and routines established. Dennis and I would go to the lab two or three times a week and sometimes on weekends. We would spend the first hour or so setting up equipment, soldering wires, designing and making measurement devices – in general, wiring and outfitting the place to be a lab. After a while, Monroe would join us at the lab and then the real fun began.

Under Bob Monroe’s guidance, Dennis and I would begin a systematic exploration of altered states of consciousness. We were constantly working towards consistent repeatable, evidential experience. After a few hours of exploration, Bob would invite us back to the house for discussions, chitchat, planning, or perhaps to meet some other investigators that were working in related areas. His lovely wife Nancy, the ever proper, polite, and most congenial hostess, would often join our discussion. Dennis and I were so bright eyed and bushy tailed in our dogged pursuit of the outer edge of reality that our constant state of total amazement, night after night, amused her to no end.

It seemed as if Bob knew everyone in the country who was investigating or experiencing anything unusual. They all came to Whistlefield eventually to meet Bob and share the results of their individual efforts. Bob was like a magnet in this disconnected community of leading edge researchers, experimenters, and freelance kooks, because of his no nonsense, straightforward manner and wonderfully open mind. There was no snake-oil being hawked at Whistlefield.

Because of Bob’s reputation, and the operation and reputation of the lab, there was a steady stream of tremendously interesting visitors. I was impressed there were so many intelligent and sober individuals, sometimes with impressive credentials, who took this area of endeavor seriously. These were not whacked out druggies doing their counter-culture thing. Bob had zero tolerance for that sort – he did not want to tarnish his legitimacy by being associated with drug users. The Timothy Leary types were out. Other than that, Bob was open to almost everything anybody took seriously. However, he was also always skeptical. Open-minded and skeptical – he wanted to see hard evidence – claims were interesting, but never enough.

Most of the visitors were middle-aged, serious professionals looking for serious answers to serious questions. They, for the most part, were looking for validation and hard evidence. There were the occasional groupies trying to increase their credibility by associating with Bob and his research effort, and a few whose main object was to impress him with their unusual talents. Bob had little patience for either. He politely but firmly sent the pretenders and non-contributors on their way.

© Tom Campbel: All rights reserved, 09-09-2002. License: All rights reserved