doctor G
10-17-2004, 01:01 AM
[FONT=Arial]
Would you like a bag with that?
I was on a cross country trip in 2000 when I walked into a little
independent convince store in a tiny town in Colorado. I had run out of weed a
couple of hundred miles ago and there was not going to be a chance to restock
until I got home, at least another couple of days. I pulled one soda out of the
cooler, grabbed a few candy bars and headed for the checkout. There was no
one else in the store and the young man behind the counter gave me an odd
look. He looked like some 60??s hippie and I smiled. His stocking cap had a pot
leaf embroidered on it. As he rang up my purchase I said ??Nice hat.?
As he handed me my change he nodded and then he asked
??Would you like a bag with that??
I snickered a little and said
??Sure, how much ??
??Quarters for a ??C??, or schwag for twenty five?
I looked around the store again, it was still empty.
??Is this some kind of set up?? I asked
??No man, I??ve got reservations at the Hotel De Munck for the Cannabis
Cup in Amsterdam and I don??t have enough money for the hotel. I??ve got my
plane fare and my judges pass, so I??m doing a little ??fund raising??, you know: the
hotel donation fund.?
??Right! So, what you got??
??The Kind is deadly, the real thing. The schwag is pressed brick, about
average.?
??How about a sample??
??Sure, I needed a break anyway.? He called into the back ??Yo Bro; watch
the counter for me?
Another hippie came out of the back and sat at the register.
??Gotcha Bro?
We headed into the back of the store and slid out the rear door. Standing
along the river he asked me which I wanted to try.
??The Kind, of course. I??m from California so I know what it??s really about.?
The clerk reached into his pockets and pulled out a glass pipe. From
another pocket he extracted an Altiods mint box. In the box lay several bright
green buds, with a smell that was enough to stone you. He packed the bowl and
handed it to me with a lighter.
??You first, man. Try not to touch the flame to the herb, the flavor lasts
longer that way.?
Holding the lighter above the bowl I drew in gently. It was like smoking
hash. The flavor was very full with a pine and cinnamon aftertaste.
??Holy Shit? I choked ??that??s the real thing!!?
The young man took a hit
??Yea I know, that??s why it??s so expensive.?
??Dude, where??s an ATM??
He gave me directions and told me to hurry as they were closing the store
in a few minutes. I was back at the store in five minutes with enough cash to buy
a couple of quarters of the King Kind.
After they closed the store we sat along the river and I got some more of
the story. They were running this store for a friend of the family and she was OK
with the additional business. After all it brought additional foot traffic through the
store and that meant more soda pop and movie rentals. As long as there was no
police activity the owner did not mind. She made it plain, though, if there was any
problems the boys were on their own.
The two hippies were brothers and they lived on top of some nearby
mountain. Their father was growing the Kind with some seeds he had picked up
years ago in Amsterdam and now they were going back as a family for the
Cannabis Cup. The father still had some contacts with a couple of Amsterdam
seed houses and they were all looking forward to a couple of weeks in the Holy
Land.
We smoked a few more bowls and I decided I was too tired and stoned to
keep driving so I asked if there was a local motel they could recommend. The
older of the two brothers may have had long hair but he was built like a football
player.
??Give me your wallet? he said
I handed over my wallet and he thumbed through it.
??This your only ID?? he said holding up my California drivers license.
??Yea? I told him
??OK.? He looked over at his brother who nodded.
??I got a spare bed at my place, you??re welcome to it. Good coffee in the
morning, and clean air?
That was an offer I could not refuse. I agreed and locked my car down in
the back of the store. Then we piled into the brothers van. The boys broke out the
pipe even before they got the van started. As we drove the boys told me their
names; the skinny one was James and the big one was Richard. Smoking and
laughing we drove up a winding mountain road in the forest for most of an hour
until we came to locked gate in the middle of a dirt road. James got out and
unlocked the gate. He held it open as we drove through then locked it behind us.
After a few more minutes bouncing down a dirt road we came to a small group of
buildings.
We got out of the car and made our way to one of the larger cabins.
Richard introduced me to his wife and children then gave me a tour of his house .
Afterwards I headed for the bathroom.
I could hear a conversation going on in the living room and when I came
out there was another person in the room. He was an average sized person with
a businessman??s appearance; button-down shirt, dark slacks, very short hair. On
his right hip was a large handgun. One glance was enough to convince me this
was the father. I felt the stares as they watched me.
??I understand you write for a magazine in California? the father spoke to
me.
??Yes I do, it??s called the Mendicino Times?
??The Emerald Triangle??
??Yes?
??Huh? he looked at his sons and they nodded. ??The boys tell me you have
no police ID, you a cop??
??No. just a traveler?
??Uh huh. Want to see something nice??
??Sure?
We headed out the door and walked to a large barn in the middle of the
clearing. As we neared the door one of the boys pulled a bandanna from his
pocket and held it out to me. I really didn??t need to be told so I put it on.
With the boys at my sides we walked through a door and into a warm
space. I heard a creaking and I was guided down and through another door and
then I was there. Through the blindfold I could see the light and smell the herb. I
could tell this was where the buds the son had sold me came from.
They pulled the blindfold off and I was momentarily blinded by the light.
When I stopped squinting I could see an expanse of lights and amazing plants.
For fifty feet in front of me bright green plants the size of Christmas trees greeted
my eyes. There must have been a hundred plants in front of me. The smell was
enough to knock me down. Pumps and fans gave a low background sound to the
hum of the high intensity lights.
??Holy shit.....? I said
??Here? the father said as he handed me a joint the size of a small cigar
??this is one of our developments. It??s a Blueberry Orange Crush cross. We are
still working on stabilizing its characteristics. We call it, GMC...?
James pulled out a lighter and I fired it up. I started coughing almost
immediately. I passed it to Richard and he took a huge hit before passing it to
James and then their Dad. He also took a huge hit and offered it back to me. I
was still coughing and waved it off so he handed it back to the boys. After a
couple more rounds he offered it back to me. I took another hit and felt the back
of my head come off then my brain shorted out and lay still. Another couple
rounds the joint was only half burned. I sat down in the middle of this forest of
marihuana plants and tried to shake off the massive dose of THC I had just
ingested. The family seemed un fazed. After they finished the joint the father took
me for a tour of the garden. Each plant had a name and it??s genetics were
documented on the side of it??s container as well as some date code. I felt he was
very knowledgeable about the history and genetics of the Cannabis family, but
none of that information was retained through my stone.
After a while they put the blindfold back on and we made our way back into
the night. I was too stoned and amazed to say anything. Fortunately they seemed
to understand that and we walked in silence under a star filled sky back to the
cabin where I collapsed on to the bed and passed out.
In the morning, over cappachino, I smoked another joint with Richard and
James. After a hearty breakfast with his wife and three children Richard gave me
a ride down the mountain and back to my car. I headed west to my California
home and pondered this experience while I smoked the finest kind all the way
home.
Would you like a bag with that?
I was on a cross country trip in 2000 when I walked into a little
independent convince store in a tiny town in Colorado. I had run out of weed a
couple of hundred miles ago and there was not going to be a chance to restock
until I got home, at least another couple of days. I pulled one soda out of the
cooler, grabbed a few candy bars and headed for the checkout. There was no
one else in the store and the young man behind the counter gave me an odd
look. He looked like some 60??s hippie and I smiled. His stocking cap had a pot
leaf embroidered on it. As he rang up my purchase I said ??Nice hat.?
As he handed me my change he nodded and then he asked
??Would you like a bag with that??
I snickered a little and said
??Sure, how much ??
??Quarters for a ??C??, or schwag for twenty five?
I looked around the store again, it was still empty.
??Is this some kind of set up?? I asked
??No man, I??ve got reservations at the Hotel De Munck for the Cannabis
Cup in Amsterdam and I don??t have enough money for the hotel. I??ve got my
plane fare and my judges pass, so I??m doing a little ??fund raising??, you know: the
hotel donation fund.?
??Right! So, what you got??
??The Kind is deadly, the real thing. The schwag is pressed brick, about
average.?
??How about a sample??
??Sure, I needed a break anyway.? He called into the back ??Yo Bro; watch
the counter for me?
Another hippie came out of the back and sat at the register.
??Gotcha Bro?
We headed into the back of the store and slid out the rear door. Standing
along the river he asked me which I wanted to try.
??The Kind, of course. I??m from California so I know what it??s really about.?
The clerk reached into his pockets and pulled out a glass pipe. From
another pocket he extracted an Altiods mint box. In the box lay several bright
green buds, with a smell that was enough to stone you. He packed the bowl and
handed it to me with a lighter.
??You first, man. Try not to touch the flame to the herb, the flavor lasts
longer that way.?
Holding the lighter above the bowl I drew in gently. It was like smoking
hash. The flavor was very full with a pine and cinnamon aftertaste.
??Holy Shit? I choked ??that??s the real thing!!?
The young man took a hit
??Yea I know, that??s why it??s so expensive.?
??Dude, where??s an ATM??
He gave me directions and told me to hurry as they were closing the store
in a few minutes. I was back at the store in five minutes with enough cash to buy
a couple of quarters of the King Kind.
After they closed the store we sat along the river and I got some more of
the story. They were running this store for a friend of the family and she was OK
with the additional business. After all it brought additional foot traffic through the
store and that meant more soda pop and movie rentals. As long as there was no
police activity the owner did not mind. She made it plain, though, if there was any
problems the boys were on their own.
The two hippies were brothers and they lived on top of some nearby
mountain. Their father was growing the Kind with some seeds he had picked up
years ago in Amsterdam and now they were going back as a family for the
Cannabis Cup. The father still had some contacts with a couple of Amsterdam
seed houses and they were all looking forward to a couple of weeks in the Holy
Land.
We smoked a few more bowls and I decided I was too tired and stoned to
keep driving so I asked if there was a local motel they could recommend. The
older of the two brothers may have had long hair but he was built like a football
player.
??Give me your wallet? he said
I handed over my wallet and he thumbed through it.
??This your only ID?? he said holding up my California drivers license.
??Yea? I told him
??OK.? He looked over at his brother who nodded.
??I got a spare bed at my place, you??re welcome to it. Good coffee in the
morning, and clean air?
That was an offer I could not refuse. I agreed and locked my car down in
the back of the store. Then we piled into the brothers van. The boys broke out the
pipe even before they got the van started. As we drove the boys told me their
names; the skinny one was James and the big one was Richard. Smoking and
laughing we drove up a winding mountain road in the forest for most of an hour
until we came to locked gate in the middle of a dirt road. James got out and
unlocked the gate. He held it open as we drove through then locked it behind us.
After a few more minutes bouncing down a dirt road we came to a small group of
buildings.
We got out of the car and made our way to one of the larger cabins.
Richard introduced me to his wife and children then gave me a tour of his house .
Afterwards I headed for the bathroom.
I could hear a conversation going on in the living room and when I came
out there was another person in the room. He was an average sized person with
a businessman??s appearance; button-down shirt, dark slacks, very short hair. On
his right hip was a large handgun. One glance was enough to convince me this
was the father. I felt the stares as they watched me.
??I understand you write for a magazine in California? the father spoke to
me.
??Yes I do, it??s called the Mendicino Times?
??The Emerald Triangle??
??Yes?
??Huh? he looked at his sons and they nodded. ??The boys tell me you have
no police ID, you a cop??
??No. just a traveler?
??Uh huh. Want to see something nice??
??Sure?
We headed out the door and walked to a large barn in the middle of the
clearing. As we neared the door one of the boys pulled a bandanna from his
pocket and held it out to me. I really didn??t need to be told so I put it on.
With the boys at my sides we walked through a door and into a warm
space. I heard a creaking and I was guided down and through another door and
then I was there. Through the blindfold I could see the light and smell the herb. I
could tell this was where the buds the son had sold me came from.
They pulled the blindfold off and I was momentarily blinded by the light.
When I stopped squinting I could see an expanse of lights and amazing plants.
For fifty feet in front of me bright green plants the size of Christmas trees greeted
my eyes. There must have been a hundred plants in front of me. The smell was
enough to knock me down. Pumps and fans gave a low background sound to the
hum of the high intensity lights.
??Holy shit.....? I said
??Here? the father said as he handed me a joint the size of a small cigar
??this is one of our developments. It??s a Blueberry Orange Crush cross. We are
still working on stabilizing its characteristics. We call it, GMC...?
James pulled out a lighter and I fired it up. I started coughing almost
immediately. I passed it to Richard and he took a huge hit before passing it to
James and then their Dad. He also took a huge hit and offered it back to me. I
was still coughing and waved it off so he handed it back to the boys. After a
couple more rounds he offered it back to me. I took another hit and felt the back
of my head come off then my brain shorted out and lay still. Another couple
rounds the joint was only half burned. I sat down in the middle of this forest of
marihuana plants and tried to shake off the massive dose of THC I had just
ingested. The family seemed un fazed. After they finished the joint the father took
me for a tour of the garden. Each plant had a name and it??s genetics were
documented on the side of it??s container as well as some date code. I felt he was
very knowledgeable about the history and genetics of the Cannabis family, but
none of that information was retained through my stone.
After a while they put the blindfold back on and we made our way back into
the night. I was too stoned and amazed to say anything. Fortunately they seemed
to understand that and we walked in silence under a star filled sky back to the
cabin where I collapsed on to the bed and passed out.
In the morning, over cappachino, I smoked another joint with Richard and
James. After a hearty breakfast with his wife and three children Richard gave me
a ride down the mountain and back to my car. I headed west to my California
home and pondered this experience while I smoked the finest kind all the way
home.