Ithink it’s 4:20 up in here!
Pitkin County leads Colorado toward the nation’s most significant step to end our nation’s decades-long debacle known as the war on drugs. Although I must profess that legalization may take some of the outlaw fun out of one of my favorite past times (er, lifestyle) it’s about damn time. But no one can argue that this venue, this battleground state, is one of the best places to get high. Whether you are dropping through a forest full of endless sublime white powder puffs above town on a bluebird day; hiking through blazing aspen glades on a harvest-like afternoon, or soaking up the stars at a remote hot spring, we love to bless the movement with a sacred toke — whether passed back and forth with a buddy, or sent ‘round the circle, on our day off or in the back of the restaurant after a crazy night.
So here’s what I’ve been getting into lately.
Blue Dream. Clouds no more and what a creative, Kevin Spacey-like high. Colors of silvery and blue, with flavors of powdery bathroom blue, blue fruit, sweet vanilla and nutmeg. Hailing from Santa Cruz, Calif., by 2009 it had become the strain of the year, so to say. It grows big and it gets chunky. The sativa-dominant dream-thinker also relieves minor aches and pains, with its twenty percent or so of indica — thanks be to the parents, and Blueberry and Haze. I love it because it erases writer’s block... like the dream where the alphabet letters fall from the ceiling and land in perfect paragraphs. How do you think I get this done every week!?!?
Want to meet her tall, exotic, slighty better looking cousin, who likes to go all night long? Try Cindi99, a high class girl with humble roots: JackHerrer crossed with ShivaSkunk.
Sour Diesel. Like sticky fingers? Don’t mind a little paranoia, anxiety or minor heart palpitations? This one’s for you. Have a project to complete? A task to accomplish? A house to clean? With Sour D, you’ll be sure to get it done. Pure sativa, straight to and exploding out the top of your dome piece. Be careful with the edibles and concentrates made from this mountain girl. She grew up in Montana and proliferated in Colorado during the ‘80s. A dozen seeds (two females to be exact) made their way to Massachusetts where the grower/breeder known as ChemDog grew a girlie that he named ChemDog ‘91, a blend of SuperSkunk and the venerable Northern Lights, (like we used to grow or get in Wisconsin waaay back in the day.) Right?!?! Here’s a great story about Northern Lights. I was in school at the University of Wisconsin at the time, a homey from down the street (East Mifflin) came over and I gave him a fat sack of NL out of my brother’s secret stash. My brother comes home and he’s like, “Where’s my weed, man?” I guess I gave the dude the whole ounce.
Bubba Kush. East coast now returns back to west coast. Old world meets new world. This is Massachusetts’ ChemDog plant again — this one a cutting done in 1993 — makes its way to California (from Grass Valley all the way to Orange County) and gains the male additions of LemonThai and Pakistani Old World Kush. This would become the iconic OG Kush (OG is for “Ocean Grown,” bro). The OG Kush, laced with just a little skunky starry Northern Lights, becomes Bubba. With her lemony, hazelnut and butterscotch fumes and flavors, Bubba will have you seeing stars and feeling like you are wrapped in a warm and fuzzy wool blanket. Like going out and watching a meteor shower, only you can do it from the couch. Fight that urge to couchlock, for the real thing is starting up here soon with the Leonids coming on to race across the skies this week.
Since this is (cough-cough) a wine column, want a great wine pairing? Roll a fat joint with a nice fluffy layer of frosty Pineapple Express, adding a nice dose of the mutant Grape Ape — pure Indica (as pure as the slightly overbred ganjashpere can offer these days) with light yet dense giant sticky purple buds flecked by elegant green leaves. If and whence properly cured, the Grape Ape will remind you of, well, grapes. The absurdly sweet and fruity smoke will become downright purplicious after you have washed it down your slightly dry mouth and throat with a sip of plush, velvety old vine alicante bouschet or petite sirah. And, after a day of pounding bumps or hucking cliffs, this girl will have you safely locked into the couch, contemplating the fire and the next day’s magic on the mountain.
This all makes me think of the music of Peter Tosh (”Legalize It”), Ziggy Marley (“One Good Spliff”), Michael Rose (“I appreciate the herb you brought for me, Natty Dreadlock”), Ben Harper (”I want to burn one down”), Widespread Panic (“A cup of warm coffee, some vitamin C, a bowl for the cat, a bowl for the dog, a bowl for me”) Beastie Boys (too many to list) Grateful Dead (“We can discover the wonders of nature”) and the Kottonmouth Kings with DJ Bobby B (“Each of us, the two of us, stronger than the ganja on the back of the bus”). In the words of our great master, Bob Marley, “The more people smoke herb, the more Babylon fall.”
Cheers! Remember, weed (and wine) reveal truth.
Drew Stofflet lives in Carbondale. Correspond with him at email@example.com.