Illinois Legal Cannabis Reviews

Cresco Mac #7 is a good, solid Sativa. With a fairly high THC level, it also carries a familiar Columbian taste for the vintage smoker. It’s sweetened with citrus and floral flavor courtesy of the Alien Cookies and Starfighter in its lineage. In its breeding its an improvement, as Columbian in the seventies in southern Illinois never packed this kind of a whallop.

Reviewing Cresco’s Mac #7 for me hinged on the vintage Columbian strain bred into this hybrid cannabis. The name MAC is actually an acronym for Miracle Alien Cookies, a cross between F2 Alien Cookies with a hybrid strain containing Starfighter and most important for the vintage crowd, a Columbian Landrace. 

Starfighter is itself a slight chemmy, somewhat dawgish hybrid, leaning towards Indica. I’ve always dug it. Alien Cookies is also a hybrid leaning towards Indica as well. So I wondered, would the Columbian, a Sativa, stand out enough to bring back memories of the old days?

The short answer is yes, it does. I catch it in the smell before lighting, after burning, the taste and the buzz. It was spending an afternoon with an old flame. 

The trouble is, after hanging out for a while, you began to realize why you broke up to begin with. 

Back in the day, you could hardly beat Columbian. It was the parent of the infamous Skunk #1, which eventually pushed its parent aside in popularity. 

When skunk started coming around, people chose that over the Columbian strains we’d been getting. Some said it was the novelty, as it also had a corresponding price increase attached to it. People were paying more for the smell. 

But it was the buzz as well. After smoking good skunk, Columbian seemed rather generic. 

After going through pretty much an eighth of flower and a gram of concentrate, I realized that same characteristic applies to Cresco Mac #7 

It’s an exaggeration, but I found myself wanting more of the flavor of Starfighter. The Sativa from the Columbian brings on a thrumming of energy, but lacks the euphoria of some of the other vintage Sativa floating around now.

Not that there’s anything wrong with it. It gives a nice Sativa buzz, it energizes you. I don’t get too high, and if a person likes smoking a lot without getting overly high, Mac 7 is good bet. I don’t get sleepy, despite carrying quite a few Indica lines in its convoluted gene pool.

I could taste that familiar Columbian flavor, and it was welcome. It brought a stoned smile after a few hits, but like rekindling lost love, once the rush of familiarity passes you remember the contempt familiarity brings. 

It’s an exaggeration, but I found myself wanting more of the flavor of Starfighter. The Sativa from the Columbian brings on a thrumming of energy, but lacks the euphoria of some of the other vintage Sativa floating around now. 

It gets you close, but in the end the jar got set aside after a bit, with at least a gram left over. There’s nothing wrong with it, in fact, it’s damned enjoyable. It just doesn’t stand out, so if there’s something more interesting in the house, and there usually is, I turn to it first. 

The live resin of Mac #7 packs more of a punch, more of a Sativa lift and yes, at times euphoria. But that’s due to concentrate being stronger than flower. What the live resin lacked was perhaps the Columbian taste and smell. Which in the end, I didn’t really miss. 

The jar will eventually get emptied, and it’s even possible I’d buy it again. It’s a solid, reliable buzz. Something akin to what I get off Kimbo Kush, but with a lift. 

One of the thrills of legal cannabis in Illinois is in the variety. Sometimes pulling a strain from the past, like Maui or Thai brings unexpected and surprisingly good results. Those two were so rare as to never have extinguished the novelty factor. 

If there’s a flaw in Cresco Mac 7, it’s in what drew me to it to begin with. The vintage line. Sometimes the object of your affection looks better in the rear view mirror, than on the seat beside you. 

Cresco Mac #7
Hybrid of F2 Alien Cookies, Starfighter and Columbian, leans to the Sativa
THC: 21.07%

Ghost of the Muhajadeen adds a touch of middle eastern spice to your buzz. Whether combined in a concentrate form with another flower, or taken on its own, it gives you a remarkably clear headed buzz, which you feel all the way down to your toes. And by the time your toes begin to tingle, your body isn’t that far from a trance.

It was January, late in the afternoon and the wife and I had laid down for a nap. I woke up first, and the tickle in my throat was now an itch. I had chills, and the makings of a headache. Pretty bad chills, worse than you’d expect even on a frigid January day. 

The next day I didn’t feel much better. The wife came home from work with a cough. The next day we’re having lunch, I feel better but she realizes she can’t taste it. Nor can she smell it. 

Covid. Fuck.

We were tested that afternoon, but our results wouldn’t be back for four or five days. For her it wasn’t a question. When you lose taste and scent it’s pretty much certain. 

It occurred to me, that if I did have Covid, with my nasty lungs I’d be in for a tough time. Cutting out weed might help, but then again at this point, it’s likely too late. Besides, if I was going to face Covid, I wanted to be high. 

A stupidly stoned idea takes form … let’s get Covid high

I knew a lot of the effects of Covid were in the head. My theory was that if I kept my head stoned, I couldn’t really say whether I had a symptom or not. That cough might be getting worse, or it could have been that last bong hit. I might have a headache. But it could be throbbing from a head rush. 

The worst thing I could do is be certain I had it, and proceed to freak out. Instead the idea was to become very mellow. Shut down all but the most necessary processes and sleep.  

I had two weeks left in isolation whether positive or not, and had just went to the dispensary a week before. So I was pretty well stocked. 

My main allies would be an eighth of Justice Grown Kimbo Kush and a gram of Bedford Grow Ghost of the Muhajadeen Crumble. 

Kimbo Kush … not so heavy on THC, but it packs a sedating punch

Justice Grown Kimbo Kush is a heady little flower, made by crossing Blackberry Kush and Starfighter. I’ve always been of the opinion that the Starfighter in a strain leads to a certain cerebral high. Cosmic even, like the name says. The Blackberry Kush is for the body high, which can be intense with Kimbo Kush. And just what I was looking for.

Justice Grown’s Kimbo Kush isn’t particularly outrageous on THC, topping out just shy of 18% But for many the Starfighter/Kush combo is a 1-2 knockout punch, and so the strain is named after the famed Bahamian Fighter Kimbo Slice. If I was to be sick, I preferred to be knocked out for as long as possible. After all, sleep is nature’s balm, and often times the best way to fight an illness. 

The problem with Covid is you never know what will happen, which ups the anxiety. Not a good time for a potent Sativa weed, which also made the  Indica dominant Kimbo Kush a good choice.  

Bedford Grow Ghost of the Mujahideen is perfect for adding spice to Kimbo Kush fed dreams

To hedge my bets I would from time to time, add a bit of Bedford Grow Ghost of the Mujahideen crumble in the bowl of the bong with the Kimbo Kush. The result was potent, and best of all, greatly resembled the taste of Hashish. More important the combination replicated the effects of hash, with a burst of euphoria followed by a narcotic body high, which settled in deeply. 

You take a couple hits, get a couple things done while you have the burst of energy, then curl up and let the Kush do its thing. If I had Covid, I didn’t particularly care. I slept so much I started to feel … pretty.

Ghost of the Mujahideen from Bedford Grow is a hybrid of Kundunz Afghani, I95 and Stardawg. It’s recommended for people with chronic pain or insomnia. As the wife got sicker, I felt better, with only fatigue and body aches hanging on, as well as a bit of a headache. So if the medical marijuana folks are to be believed, I had a good Cannabis treatment plan cobbled together. 

You take a couple hits, get a couple things done while you have the burst of energy, then curl up and let the Kush do its thing. If I had Covid, I didn’t particularly care. I slept so much I started to feel … pretty.

Okay, obviously smoking dope while trying to fight an often fatal respiratory disease isn’t a wise strategy. But it sure beat panicking. 

And the results of Kimbo Kush, Ghost of the Mujahideen and Covid?

I slept a lot. When I wasn’t sleeping, I took care of the wife. She was sicker than a dog the first couple days, and the covid made her nuttier than a fruitcake on the third. Starting on the fourth she began to improve. That was the day I got the call from doctor’s clinic. I had tested negative, but they said I might have been tested too soon, and to get tested again. 

So I did, twice with the second test being the deeper test. Both were negative, and by this time I’d been in very close proximity for extended periods with someone who had it and was contagious. 

I figured if it worked, I’d keep at it, and so I did. Often it would just be a couple hits of Kimbo Kush. That kept me pleasantly mellow, which is important when stuck inside a house with one other person who isn’t feeling particularly great and no other face to face encounters. 

The magic of fire and weed and Ghost of the Muhajadeen

When she was finally asleep, I’d bring out the Ghost of the Muhajadeen Crumble and mix the two. I have a tendency to snore, and she needed all the sleep she could get, so I took to sleeping on the couch in front of the fireplace. 

There’s something mesmerizing about fire, as anyone who has sat in front of a campfire, stoned or not, can to attest to. For me there’s something incredibly cozy about curling up in front of a fire with a blanket. 

I’ve always believed your buzz takes on some of the characteristics of the place from where the weed came from. Afghani and other middle eastern Cannabis strains tickles an exotic thread in my imagination that feels almost spiritual. Which is appropriate, as in that part of the world, in ancient times Cannabis was often used in religious rituals. 

And so there on the couch, like a sick dog under a porch, I stared into the fire, drifting in and out of sleep for several days, healing myself. 

By the second week we both felt better, felt damned good actually. For her it was a paid vacation, and by the second week of quarantine it had became almost a second honeymoon. 

On surviving Covid in the house and the changes it brought

As I said, fighting a respiratory illness with smoke is a stupid idea. It’s careless and flies in the face of logic and scientific recommendations. But I didn’t get Covid, and by all rights should have. To steal a phrase attributed to Hunter S .Thompson, “In my case, you know, I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me” 

Not being a total idiot, afterwards I made some changes in my life. Respiratory health is big deal for someone my age, particularly someone well down the path towards C.O.P.D. 

I’ve learned to smoke less frequently, and when I do, I smoke less. I smoke concentrate more often, as it gets you same buzz while a consuming a lot less. 

To steal a phrase attributed to Hunter S. Thompson, In my case, you know, I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me” 

And I learned how to get high properly. Turns out I’d been doing it wrong for over forty years. My lungs felt better almost immediately.

And yes, I’ve had my vaccine, and booster. I worried about it, then I realized I was worrying about taking a drug which might have weird side effects. I’ve spent most of my life doing that for fun, so why not take a chance on something that could save mine, or someone else’s life?

Kimbo Kush is a weed I almost always have on hand lately. It’s readily available because it’s so popular. It’s so popular because it’s a great go-to Cannabis. If you’re not looking to be energetic, it could be the perfect buzz. 

 Ghost of the Muhajadeen adds a touch of middle eastern spice to your buzz. Whether combined in a concentrate form with another flower, or taken on its own, it gives you a remarkably clear headed buzz, which you feel all the way down to your toes. And by the time your toes begin to tingle, your body isn’t that far from a trance.

In the end, all I can guess is Covid invaded my body and found itself stoned and too confused to do its job. It hung out a while and went on its way. 

And that’s how I spent my Covid vacation.

The Particulars

Justice Grown Kimbo Kush
THC: 18%

Bedford Grow Ghost of the Muhajadeen Crumble
THC: 72-75%

Bedford Grow’s Chem De La Chem is a fairly potent Sativa, topping 20% THC. The gassy taste makes itself known, but doesn’t overpower the base flavor. And it’s surprisingly smooth. Breeding I95 with Chemdog produces a heavy high, with enough drive behind it to get you up and on your feet. It’s a great social buzz, makes you chatty and love each other, befitting its hippie roots. If you’re inclined to such things, you’ll get the munchies.

They say the sixties ended at the Rolling Stones free concert at Altamont in 1969. But there was always one place that the spirit stayed alive, and that was wherever the Grateful Dead was playing. 

When Jerry Garcia’s family came out with a line of cannabis bearing his name, Chemdog was an obvious choice. Their marketing material reads “One of the original strains to have a name, Chemdog is believed to have hailed straight from a 1991 Grateful Dead parking lot in Deer Creek, Indiana. ‘It was originally called the Dog, or the Chem. It rang all the bells, you know, as far as smell, flavor, effect. It was the weed for anybody who loved weed,” a Garcia family friend shared with us.‘”

“Much like Jerry himself, Chemdog is one of the originals, having spawned multiple legendary strains since its inception.”

One of those strains is Bedford Grow Chem De La Chem. 

First taste of Chem de la Chem leaves me high, but strangely disappointed

 The warnings on this one were ominous. Stupidly stoned is how one reviewer put it. 

The first bong hit washed over me with waves of woodsy notes, then came the riptide of a strong, gassy notes -chemical. You’d think that would be unpleasant, and it was jarring. But by the third hit I was waiting for it. 

The buzz raced up my spine and snapped me to my feet, looking for any quick busy work, as this was office hours. The burst of energy was more powerful than euphoric. 

I take a couple more hits. By now I have a taste for the shit. As I inhaled it tasted not dissimilar to incense, before the chemical taste washed over it again. On exhale the woodsy notes took once more. 

I got the first stoned smile of the day. 

But that was it. I smoked a bit more, got quite a bit higher, but still nothing to set it apart from any number of Sativa dominant weeds I’ve smoked. High, but not legendary high, as befits a legendary strain.

That said, Chem De La Chem gets you up and moving. The trouble is, you’re really too stoned to do much of anything. The next day I tried it again, and the results were about the same. I was higher than fuck, but nothing happened worthy of writing about.

I promptly forgot I still had a small bud left. 

Bedford Grow Chem De La Chem got me stoned, just not Deadhead stoned

If you’re a Deadhead, you likely spend much of your time stoned. Really stoned. The Grateful Dead knew how to play for stoned people. They could pick you up, blow your mind, toss you into outer space, take a ride down river into the jungle and just when you thought your brains were about to melt and run out your ears, they’d take you home  with your foot tapping and a smile on your face.

“Chem De La Chem gets you up and moving. The trouble is, you’re really too stoned to do much of anything.”

Then by the end of the eighties it stopped working for me.  Being a Deadhead meant going with the flow, which when it works is amazing. Coincidences pile up, easily spotted in alternate states. It’s said that when your life starts to be filled with what seems like coincidences, you’re on the path to enlightenment. 

For me, that feeling of synchronicity faded away, and I disconnected from the Dead. For  a about thirty years now. 

I decided to research Chem de la Chem, learned about the Grateful Dead connection and thought I’d figured it out. I was looking for that sense of idiot glee you get when stoned and listening to the Dead by yourself. This was party weed, amazingly strong but very social.  

When it comes to drugs, Deadheads know their shit. You always wanted to try to have your own acid when going to a show, but if you didn’t, what you’d buy there from a total stranger was always better than what you’d have brought. 

And the same for weed. These folk were talking terpenes back when pot came in baggies that didn’t even seal without licking them, and had seeds and stems. 

In the intervening couple of weeks, I noticed I was listening to the Dead again. Likely because I’d read about them and Chem de la Chem, and it jogged that hallucinogenic memory.  And then I remember the remaining bud I had stashed back. 

It finally clicks

Dead shows were often outside in the heat. Since it was a hot day, and I’d just finished off the last bud of the Bedford Grow Chem de la Chem, and wasn’t expecting much, I decided to mow. 

Inside I’d been playing the Dead, and it was still running through my head. I mowed for about a half hour, then ran out of gas. Clouds were rolling in, the wind was picking up … there’s a storm coming Dorothy … so I put the mower away. 

I stand there watching the clouds, remembering my first Dead show. Storm clouds piled up behind the stage as the sun started to set. Lightning lit the sky, then came the wind and rain with the night. Best concert I’ve ever been to.

I push the mower into the barn before the rain hits and start for the house.

“And with that I realized I was missing something in my experiment with Chem de la Chem. The right tunes.” 

The phone rings, the screen says Los Angeles, and going against the grain I answer. It could be Hollywood calling you know?

It’s a photographer, wanting a website, in a hurry. He just sent me an email and he wants me to go read it right away so we can get started. 

I go into the house, still pretty fucking high. The Dead is playing upstairs, I could hear it outside even once the mower shut off.  I’m actually enjoying this buzz. The wind is really picking up now, and things just feel in synch. 

I check out his website, he’s also a fiddler/violinist. He was in a band called Old and In The Way before their first album. I’ve got that album. The banjo player is singing on the stereo as I read this. 

Jerry Garcia, of the Grateful Dead. 

And with that I realized I was missing something in my experiment with Chem de la Chem. The right tunes. 

So there you go. With Beford Grow Chem de la Chem, and a little Blues From Allah, you get a monster buzz, and another step on the road to enlightenment. And if that’s not your thing, well you get damned high all the same.

The Particulars

Bedford Grow Chem de la Chem
THC 22.68%

PTS Solutions Bruce Banner Hash comes damned close to the Hashish we experienced in the old days. It’s got the taste, the scent and the buzz that nearly defined being high for a generation.

Back when I smoked hashish for the first time, sometime in the seventies, Led Zeppelin was a working band. Led Zep wasn’t shy about pot. References were dropped and we picked up on them. Page and Plant in particular were world travelers, going to exotic locations to explore the region, the music and the weed. Or even decamping to a cottage in Wales where rings of smoke floated through the trees.

I loved hashish from the first hit, the spicy aroma, the tart taste and the euphoric high. I didn’t mind it was hard to smoke. Bongs burned through it too quickly. Pipes were a bit better, and if you didn’t have one of those you could make one out of a beer can with a pocket knife. There was also putting it on a thumbtack, lighting it and covering it with a glass. You’d lift the edge of the glass off the table, press your lips to the opening and inhale. It was surprisingly effective, and trippy watching the glass fill with smoke. I even tried rolling hash with tobacco, the British “reefer.” Any method was fine for me. 

Why is hashish scarce in southern Illinois?

It always seemed to be scarce in southern Illinois, and by the early eighties it might as well have been non existent. Aside from a few encounters in other countries, I’d not seen it since. 

It’s not that hard to make, it just requires a lot of pot and patience. I never felt safe paying for an ounce of weed to try to make something and have it not work out. 

In Europe it’s a great product because it’s easier to transport and smuggle than buds or flower. But here in the midwest, where illegal marijuana has been one of the largest cash crops for every state around us for decades, transportation isn’t an issue. 

When Cannabis was legalized in Illinois I had a glimmer of hope that it might make a comeback. But over a year into it, I’d yet to hear of it being available. Even worse, any kind of concentrate was frequently being referred to as hash. I worried the original would get swallowed up by the trendy.

I lit it quickly, just enough for a wisp of smoke. It feels familiar rushing into my lungs, the scent wafting up into my eagerly anticipating, hairy little nostrils – the hairs come to attention – they remember this scent. My lips curl into a smile as the taste tickles my tongue. It is in fact, the real deal. 

The traditional methods of manufacturing were done by hand, which makes it a premium product. Yet the THC levels, though higher than buds or flower, was noticeably less than most concentrates. So you pay more for a product that isn’t going to get you substantially higher. 

Unless you count the variables which are impossible to measure. Which is, Hashish is fucking magical. It’s one of the big reasons Tolkien and the Lord of the Rings took off in the sixties and seventies. Hobbits and hashish blend perfectly. 

And what band was most responsible for bringing Tolkien to the rock and roll audience? Led Zep of course. 

A surprise on the menu

I didn’t actually need anything from the dispensary, but we needed cheese, which meant going to Harrisburg or Evansville. We didn’t feel like dealing with traffic, so we opted for Harrisburg. Since we were going to be there, I took a look at the menu. 

It listed hash under concentrates and I assumed it was hash oil. I was well stocked with that and didn’t click it, but scrolled through the full listing. There at the bottom I saw it … PTS Solutions Bruce Banner Hash. Not hash oil. Hash. 

I leapt from my chair, straight up, then came back down and reread it. 

The first taste of PTS Bruce Banner Hash

A little over an hour later it’s in my hand, a little chunk broken off and being loaded into the hash pipe. It’s a new hash pipe, as the old one was polluted with various strains of weed. I wanted to find out if PTS Bruce Banner Hash indeed tasted and most important, smelled like the hashish I remembered. 

I lit it quickly, just enough for a wisp of smoke. It feels familiar rushing into my lungs, the scent wafting up into my eagerly anticipating, hairy little nostrils – the hairs come to attention – they remember this scent. My lips curl into a smile as the taste tickles my tongue. It is in fact, the real deal. 

Sitting in the garden took on a psychedelic tone pretty quickly … the trees came alive, the wind whispered through the leaves, the dappled sunlight danced across the grass. I expected Gandalf to come sauntering up with his staff at any time.

Mostly. The taste and scent isn’t as strong as others I’ve tasted over the years, which likely came from parts of the world where hash originated. But it’s close enough for someone starving for it. 

The smile lasted all the way home, and soon I found myself in the garden, ready to put PTS Bruce Banner Hash to the test.

Bruce Banner isn’t a traditional hashish, but it works

Bruce Banner is a sativa strain, with some reporting hints of strawberry in the taste and scent. It’s a bit disappointing in that this isn’t a pure, middle eastern strain traditionally used in making hashish. It’s a modern hybrid, with roots in the Hindu Kush region at least. But for fuck’s sake, it’s named after The Incredible Hulk. You shouldn’t expect authenticity, and content yourself with the taste, the scent and the buzz. 

The buzz is right on the money. There’s the burst of euphoria, even after the excitement of hashish wanes. It’s an energetic buzz, which reminds me that some of the most horrific manual labor jobs I ever did back in the day, were made bearable by chewing hash while I did them. 

And on the other hand, it was the ideal buzz for sitting in the garden and greeting the hummingbirds which were just arriving after wintering down south. 

I was a little disappointed in the taste and scent, as it wasn’t as pungent or identifiable as the authentic hash I’ve had in Europe. You have to pay attention to catch it but it’s there. 

Most of all, the wife was happy about it, and even picked up a gram for me as a treat. She doesn’t smoke it, but likely figures it will improve my mood. She’s right, and I love her for that.

“Everything’s so fucking green!”

Sitting in the garden took on a psychedelic tone pretty quickly … the trees came alive, the wind whispered through the leaves, the dappled sunlight danced across the grass. I expected Gandalf to come sauntering up with his staff at any time. Instead, it was the wife bringing me tea, which brought forth another upwelling of love for her in my black heart. 

The cat followed her outside and she joined me on the patio, providing comic relief. She’s not the bravest cat on the planet, very particular about her appearance. Till she feels the warm bricks of the patio and rolls till she’s coated in grass, dirt and whatever else is down there. 

It wasn’t Led Zeppelin I reached for in the garden, but Rush, Fly By Night. The Tolkien estate owes a huge debt of gratitude to both bands, who infiltrated stoned teenaged minds with references to Tolkien’s books, and sent them scurrying to the school library. 

By the time the medieval sounding guitar on Rivendell came in, I was caught up in memories. Hash is a great drug for that, for letting fantasies wash over you. It’s perfect for sitting in the garden, our own little Rivendell in our own back yard.

And that’s how I spent my day with PTS Bruce Banner Hash. Getting acquainted, finding pleasure in the little things, laughing at a cat. Seeing all these things I need to be doing in the garden, knowing I had time to do them, and declining because just sitting there, breathing, being alive felt too damned good to get up. 

The Particulars

Brush Banner Hash by PTS
THC 40%

Progressive Treatment Solutions manufactures Bruce Banner Hash without solvents. The trichomes are frozen off the flower, using liquid nitrogen, which leaves a fine chief. It’s hand sifted and freeze dried, then hand pressed into bricks using low heat and a brick press. 

CrescendO lives up to its name. It builds. The first hit might leave a person wondering. Is that it? It tasted gassy, a bit like pine, but oddly refreshing. It was almost like quenching your thirst with something that had a hint of lemon about it. Then the buzz really hits.

And no cough. It’s amazingly smooth for a cannabis that often reaches 30% THC.

The second hit brought on a mellow rush, a warmth spreading through the head. A minute or so later I feel the first rush of energy. My step feels lighter whilst walking down the hall. Five minutes later a smile spreads across my face and my head begins to clear. 

Mind and sensations seem to move faster than the stimulus. I’m loving hearing Painting Box by The Incredible String Band, but it feels like I’m a line or two ahead of the music. 

A bit later I find myself scraping up what was left in the tray for a third hit. I didn’t need a third hit. I wanted one. ISP is still playing in the background but I can’t focus on it. Instead, lines and couplets jump out at me yanking me back into it from time to time and the smile grows wider. Multiple trains of thought are going on at once, and I’m not following any of them.

Part of it is the placebo effect. Sometimes you get the buzz your preconceptions lead you to believe you’ll have. In this case I had read a review before smoking, mistakenly identifying CrescendO as Sativa dominant. As those tend to provide a bit of  pep, the mind takes over and finds energy. 

“Multiple trains of thought are going on at once, and I’m not following any of them”

There’s no work pressing so I’m working on organizing and cleaning the office and the lounge. The tasks I set for myself mostly completed, I add a couple others, finishing none. But totally fine with that. I mean progress is progress, right? But on a downside, I’ve gone downstairs twice now for a cup of ice to go with a Sprite, and can’t seem to remember long enough to get to the kitchen. Something else comes up. 

An hour later I have some semblance of order on my photo studio work counter, a project I hadn’t identified as something I was going to do today. Also, the weed paraphernalia is clean, with the exception of the nail which is still soaking. 

I’m wanting to smoke more. Not that I need to, but because it’s fun. I refrain. I’m starting to feel a bit of an energy drain. The energetic buzz combined with physical activity wears you down twice as fast. And kicking back and being mellow feels twice as good as usual. 

I resist temptation. I answer a few emails. I take a quick stroll the garden and back inside, the munchies hit. Peanut Butter on an Ezekial muffin. The muffin is good, very healthy. But I choose Peter Pan Honey Natural because, well I’m a Peter Pan fan damnit. I think a lot of us would like to be Peter, just as he’d like to be us. 

The fact that I think that is a testament to CrescendO, because at the moment I thought it, it seemed profound as fuck. 

After the peanut butter, the eyelids begin to droop. It’s warm up here now, and warm downstairs as well. I always knew I’d nap today, so why fight it? It’s always a question … will the buzz outlast the nap? I decide to give it a try. 

I might have slept ten minutes, but lay there for the better part of an hour. Finally I gave up on the nap, fixed a cup of tea, had another hit of CrescendO and sat down and wrote pretty much the whole article in one, forty five minute sitting. 

And had supper singing in the pot when the wife came home. 

CrescendO has intense Indica tendencies. More so than many of the others I’ve smoked. It’s not the weed that makes you sleepy. That comes from being a bit sleepy to start with, and not having the energy to keep up with the buzz. It would be a great weed for going for a hike in the forest.

The Particulars

CrescendO from Nature’s Grace and Wellness
THC: 27.3%. 

Verano Mag Landrace could prove to be the perfect Indica for myself. With a startlingly original taste and scent, and a buzz that’ll take two inches of height off you, I found myself snatching up every version of it I could. It comes with a reputation for being exotic. The reputation is deserved.

At ThriveIL today I picked up Verano Mag Landrace, believed to be a pure Iranian Landrace. Or Persian if you prefer to be exotic. I prefer. It’s an ancient Indica, at least if there’s any truth to the legends. 

The Persians used cannabis for religious purposes, as far back as the third century. Somehow a clone of a Mag Landrace plant found its way to Illinois, without going through the usual channels. So what you get is the original strain, without being bred with others. 

“Mag Landrace from Verano just redefined stoned in my book. I need to know if it was really that good, or if the reputation of an exotic strain of weed triggered the placebo effect. ” 

I’d also read it reminded some people of hashish, and indeed, as I found out, would be good served in that fashion. 

I also managed to pick up some Verano Mag Landrace RSO Oil. I love mixing oil and flower, particularly if they’re from the same strain. It intensifies everything … scent, flavor, buzz. 

A combination perfect for the hash pipe

As soon as we got home I went for the hash pipe. I’d never tried RSO oil before. Named for the cancer patient who invented the process, Rick Simpson, he recommended rubbing it on. Others in the medical community recommend taking it orally.

The main drawback is if it’s made with a highly flammable agent in the concentration process. If so, you can’t smoke it. This wasn’t, and it smoked just fine. 

It is thicker than the typical hash oil I get. Perhaps because of that, it spread easily on the small bud I had placed in the bowl. I popped the cap on and took the first hit. 

It was the taste that struck me, before the effect of the pot. 

When I was a little boy, I discovered a trunk in my grandpa’s attic. Inside was a World War One uniform, folded neatly away. Obviously this trunk hadn’t been opened in decades. That musty smell is what came to mind. 

But not in a bad way. It was as though that smell had been transformed into something exotic and beautiful. And on the second hit, it evened out, and I thought of a Persian spice cabinet. 

And that was all I needed for several hours, till Rango arrived, tonight’s test subject. 

How to make one bowl stone two people

The rest of the afternoon and evening had been amazing. A lovely day with the wife. After dinner Rango showed up and we went upstairs to the lounge.

Six months ago Rango could have smoked as much dope as you put in front of him. And not felt much of anything. Now forty pounds lighter, he’s cut out the Cokes and the junk food, cut back on the weed and is something approaching healthy. 

He’s no lightweight when it comes to weed now. He smokes more some days than I do in a week. But he has faced the fact that he does have limits. 

I broke up a bit of the Verano Mag Landrace flower, and scraped it into a pile. Then I took out the syringe of the Mag Landrace RSO Oil, shot out a bit too much, caught it on the dab tool and pressed it into the broken up flower. 

I began to twirl. The flower stuck to the oil and eventually formed a ball. I heated up the bowl of the bong, so when I put the tool in, the glob would slide off easier. It worked. 

“I hate to think what I’m going to feel like in twenty minutes,” Rango said. 

Rango had been lounging on the bed, playing guitar and I summoned him over. I knew I was going to need backup on this hit. I opted for the small torch. It’s the kind you can buy in any convenience store in the country. It gets hotter than a Bic lighter so it’s great for bongs, but you have to apply it for a while to heat up the nail in a dab rig. 

It worked great on the oil/flower combination. And I was right. I needed backup. 

I barely had enough air to pull the bowl off and try to clear the bong. I failed in that and passed it to him. I concentrated on not coughing and finding a way of getting the smoke out of my lungs. 

Using a combination of short exhales and what I imagined in the midst of my head rush to be Yoga breathing, I managed to clear my lungs. Just in time for Rango to hand me the bong, which was still smoking menacingly. 

There’s wasn’t much flower left, but the oil had clung to something and we passed the bong back and forth for far too long. Finally I handed it to him, the tendril of smoke still rising from the bowl, and he just shook his head. 

I grabbed the dab tool and shuffled things about in the bowl, and must have tilted the screen as on my next hit, I sucked the glob down into the water where it was mercifully extinguished. 

I sat the bong on the bar and we both stared at it, hesitantly, afraid that even submerged in water, it would start smoking again. 

“I hate to think what I’m going to feel like in twenty minutes,” Rango said. 

What he felt like twenty minutes

Twenty minutes later he’s having a smoke in the bathroom. I’m at the open window, watching the garage for raccoons and opossum. Last week we had a staring contest with an opossum on the roof outside the window. The bastard refused to leave, even when I whipped out the strobe light.

Rango stabs his cigarette out and starts to walk. His arm reaches out and grabs my leg. I like him too, but not that way. He moves quickly on, using any solid surface as a walking stick, working his way towards the bed in the lounge.

He reaches it manages to slide onto it with some degree of cool. A very slight degree, but you having to give him points for trying. 

When you change your lifestyle, you find certain things just fit. Evidently Mag Landrace from Verano isn’t one of them for him. At least not in oil and flower mixture. 

I manage to hold my own and stay upright. He did find himself vertical on occasion, but spent most of the rest of the night staring at the ceiling in the lounge, laying on the bed. 

I even take a couple more bong hits of the Verano Mag Landrace flower. I love the taste, though I can still pick up the mustiness, but it’s quickly swept away by vision of nights in the sultan’s tent, someplace in the Iranian desert under a full moon. 

The Particulars:

Verano Mag Landrace Flower
THC 27%, give or take

Verano Mag Landrace RSO
THC 83.9%