Push play and pack a bowl. This week, we're looking at some relevant news to freedom loving stoners and hitting on the important talking points that you'll need to know when your girlfriends dad calls you a drug addict. Then I'd like to help you plan a lovely weekend in San Francisco with the Yeti before I sign off and go rummage through an old ladies shed. But first, do what you gottta do to open up the thoughtfullness centers of your brain. For me, that's a deep, warm toke of Red Congo and a little Family Crest:
This band is new to me. They caught my ear when I heard them on "All Songs Considered". I'm a sucker for San Francisco (I even liked the Hulk movie just for the shots of him smashing up Russian Hill) so I'm glad to support a local band. I've just smoked a bowl of Red Congo (a nice, heady Sativa I picked up at the Apothecarium) and the swooning, operatic nature of the singers voice combined with the frenetic cello is really igniting my high.
Manufacturing, retail, and consumption of marijuana is getting easier in America every day. And for good reason; smoking marijuana is wonderful. Coming off the mid-term elections, nearly the entire West Coast has gone Green, save for one late great Golden State. Big Cali has been distracted by rumors of civil war, but most experts expect her to get her mind right in 2016 and massively grow the retail marijuana market.
Anyone who’s ever passed through Denver can tell you that it is very much a city on the frontier. The people there are bold and ready for a challenge so it’s no wonder that they are at the vanguard of one of the most significant societal shifts of this generation. The people of Denver pushed through the legalization of recreational marijuana despite much doomsday rhetoric and ballyhoo from the dwindling ranks of prohibitionists, and now they can officially enjoy a victory lap. The city is enjoying a boom in marijuana related commerce and tourism and there is no data that supports a related rise in crime or a decrease in the quality of life for citizens. Good news for states like California, Hawaii, and Vermont, who are still trying to break through the last lines of curmudgeonly resistance.
As Shasta, Trinity, and many others have now banned outdoor grow operations. This makes growing in many places illegal by way of the county, legal by the state, and illegal by the federal government. It's an odd move, considering just how many janky tarps you'll see tucked among the treetops while driving up The 5. Marijuana is most definitely the local crop, and for good reason. The climate in Northern California is virtually perfect for outdoor growth and the crop is among the worlds most lucrative:
Even grapes, Northern California's other favorite and which dominate the landscape, are worth barely %10 their weight weed.
So why would locals decide to ban outdoor growth? Many think it has to do with the increasing presence of Big Tobacco, who are aggressively buying up land in hopes of annexing the industry. Keeping pot un-growable keeps the land very cheap, and it is certainly within the tobacco industries reach to do so. But Congress may have just made that a moot point, as they ended the federal ban on medical marijuana and have instructed the Department of Justice to ceasefire in the marijuana-front of their war on drugs. This would leave only local county sheriffs to start rounding up pot growers and they are unlikely to be eager to fill county jails with voting locals.
Quest for the Best
Is it possible to find a single, perfect strain of marijuana? In a way, I believe that every strain of marijuana is perfect, or at least has the potential to be perfect. It's not Granddaddy Purple's fault that I smoked right before going ice skating in Union Square and as a result I got claustrophobic and freaked out. Granddady Purp doesn't like ice skating. He likes staying home and watching movies. He is a perfect companion to watch "Face Off" on a Wednesday night, but he fucking hates ice skating and he'll make you hate it too.
In this way, we have to own responsibility for a "bad high". We all get them, periodically. Either a cold blanket of depression or a fit of anxiety or a sick feeling in the stomach. It can even be so unpleasant as to make a novice smoker believe that marijuana is some sort of degenerative drug and not a soul nourishing wellness supplement. But we must remember that a "bad high" could more accurately be described as an "incongruent experience".
There are other strains that can be as rewarding as GDP when optimized, but also a bit more compromising when need be. I tend to be a fan of lower-impact Sativa strains that keep me clear-headed, light on my feet, anxiety free, and creatively engaged. I find that even under the worst conditions, a Jack Herrer or Dutch Treat will rarely cause me any duress. But in the best conditions- in front of a blank canvas with a sloppy pallet in one hand, a brush in the other, and a fat joint hanging from my lip- they lubricate my creative channels and open up my range of vision to infinite possibilities.
Working with CTOB's ace team of Marijuanamaticians and Cannabeseologists, The Frisco Yeti has developed this simple card to rate and review individual strains of cannabis across multiple smokings. We think you'll find it handy for when your short term memory gets a little smokey.
Your experience of each strain is going to be even more unique and varied than that of a glass of wine. There are a multitude of factors that can influence your enjoyment of a strain, including:
- Unique chemical factors of the strain (such as density of trichromes and cannabinoids).
- Your mental, physical, or emotional state.
- The activities you engage in during and after smoking.
- Method of Ingestion. Your experience of the weed will vary depending on if you smoke a j, smoke out of a bong, vaporize, or eat it.
To get a good sense of your unique relationship with a strain, you'll need to sample it at least 4 times, with a variety of variables at play.
Step 1: Buy some weed. Any strain you like. Write the name of the strain and the date you purchased it at the top of the front side of the card.
Step 2: Smoke up. The first time you smoke, write the method of ingestion and activity in which you are partaking while you smoke on the front of the card in the appropriate row. Score the experience on a scale of 1-5 in each category. Repeat 4 times on unique occasions while participating in 4 different activities. Get a little variety in your scores so you can keep track of whether your strain is better for a movie, a hike, a bike ride, or any of your other favorite stoner activities.
You can print these cards (they fit nicely on business cards) or pick some up at your local dispensary and share your personal #QuestForTheBest with the Yeti on twitter @TheFriscoYeti.
As for today's tastey little beauty...
I picked up a pretty generous gram at Grass Roots for $16.
Sesh Uno: Wake & Bake- 12/20; 8:36 am.
It's a crucial test for any strain and a sensible jump-off point for a review. Maybe "sensible" isn't the best word to describe smoking dope at 8:30 in the morning, but it's the best I’ve got. A wise man once told me: “You should only get high once a day. First thing in the morning. The rest of the day, you should stay high.”
The buds are forrest green with some fine, pale orange-brown fibers; fluffy with a generous dusting of trichromes. Smells earthy with some pine, and a little bit of grape. There is a slight, distant chemical odor. The hit from my water-pipe is smooth and mellow, though a bit flavorless.
I feel just a bit too spacey and easily distracted. I start making the bed twice wandering off each time. I suppose that's to be expected when you take bong rips for breakfast.
In my body, I can feel physical tiredness. I typically wake up with achey feet and a stiff shoulder, and the Durban Poison hasn't provided much relief. My brain is moving quickly and I can't quite seem to catch a continuous thread.
It takes me awhile to get through my morning routine and chores. Initially, I have the instinct to smoke another bowl of something a bit more stimulating (I’ve got some White Widow tucked away somewhere) but instead, I decide to take a walk and let the fog clear a bit.
Second Sesh: Smoke Break- 12/20; 11:23 am.
One of the best parts about being a professional artist is that I can smoke weed at work. In fact, if I'm not drawing by 11am,the CTOB corporate headquarters sends a couple of goons over to force me to get high. Sometimes I don't want to, but they tell me they'll hurt my family if I don't.
By mid-morning, I've got myself set up with a nice little upstairs table at Another Cafe. I'm going to be posted up here for the next few hours, organizing my day planner and getting warmed up in my sketchbook.
I am upbeat, sociable, pleasant and present as I order my coffee. I'm having a hard time thinking in a straight line but it doesn't harm my social skills in the least and I don't have any of the social anxiety that comes easily when one is fully baked before morning rush hour has concluded. I imagine that I am charmingly stoned, but I might just be obliviously stoned. Either way, it works for me.
The caffeine interacts nicely with the weed in my system and I quickly get on a creative roll. The Durban Poison is certainly mentally stimulating but it doesn't seem to support linear thinking, or perhaps my early morning brain just wasn't ready for it. My page quickly fills with notes, thoughts, ideas, agenda items, action steps, and a variety of doodles. Eventually, it falls into a rhythm. I decide to start an illustration for this review and work out the piece below:
Session 3: 4/20- 12/22; 4:20pm.
It’s been an easy day on the job and I’ve wrapped up work early, and I have an hour to kill before meeting a client for drinks. I've found a secluded patch of forest at the western edge of San Francisco in which I can enjoy relative solitude. Dog walkers and urban hikers take little interest as I plow down 2 full bowls off my little commuter pipe. I've got nothing to do and I might as well be high for it.
It's easy to get lost in the avenues if you ignore the street signs. An old friend of mine used to live nearby. He was a great Sasquatch philosopher who was driven mad seeking order in the alphabetized streets and numerical avenues, so he retreated to the mountains to practice alchemy.
The Sunset is a weird place and full of mundane treasures. It feels like a distantly related cousin to San Francisco. Like a neighborhood in San Diego broke up with its old lady and decided to wander north, and it never quite acclimated to the fog. It's a beach town that has sweater weather 300 days a year.
The Durban Poison landed perfectly. I had a hunch that this strain would lend itself to walking long, quiet city blocks and I was right. I am relaxed and my mind is a steady stream of pleasant, intriguing thoughts.
The air is cold and crisp and lovely. The Farallons tear a rocky hole in an otherwise neat seam between the sky and the ocean. I wonder if it is Great White season out there yet? I should google that later. No- I should look it up in a book. But I guess then I'd have to order a book about sharks on Amazon. I'll just google it, and maybe get a book about sharks. Or maybe I'll watch a movie about sharks. I just saw Jaws, but what's the one with LL Cool J and Sam Jackson? Or maybe I'll watch that documentary about the killer whale that attacked a great white off of the Farallons-OH YEAH- the Farallons, that's what we were talking about. Great islands.
The mighty Pacific waves to me from the horizon as I board an inbound N train. I don't have any come-down haze at all and I'll transition into a lovely Monday night feeling chipper and upbeat.