Don’t leave your open weed grinder on the arm of the couch if you’re going to smoke Truck Stop #7 from The Green House Durango. I learned this little lesson last weekend when I was smoking said strain for this review. What happens if you do, you ask? Well, nothing good.
In this case, I just spilled freaking ground up weed everywhere, making a mess and depriving me of another bowl of Truck Stop #7. But it could have been worse, friends. Think about it. The kief trap could have dumped out too. I would have cried real tears if that had happened.
Here’s what occurred. So I was asked to review this strain in anticipation of Cannabis Crawl, and I probably should have known how much it would kick my ass by that alone. I didn’t, though — and nothing about this strain alerted me to it initially either.
I hadn’t tried Truck Stop #7 before, but it looked pretty unassuming when I opened the container to check it out. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, really — the indica hybrid’s tight, compact nugs and inoffensive, slightly weedy scent seemed pretty status quo. It was just bright orange hair and deep green nugs.
But friends. This strain’s effects were anything but status quo. I don’t know how Truck Stop #7 isn’t a constant topic of conversation on ye old interwebs, cause while it may look like a big ol’ container of nothin’, it is a unique one indeed.
I’m not even kidding. But we’ll get to that.
I decided to smoke this strain out of a Pax, so I had to grind up the buds to get it to the right consistency. The buds were cured well and ground easily, so nothing was out of the ordinary there either. Once I had enough plant matter to shove into the Pax, I tossed it in and took a hit.
And there it was. An immediate anvil to the head. I felt like my brain was full of helium instead of that grey matter that dictates what I say and do, and it only got more evident with every hit. One hit, giant helium head. Two hits? I choked, and choked, and then choked some more. When I could finally catch my breath, my head felt like a hot air balloon.
I didn’t stop there, though. I just kept smoking and choking and then smoking some more until the bowl was completely combusted. And, once I was done, I could not function. Like, I couldn’t even work Hulu.
Try as I might, nothing would cooperate. Not my arms, not my brain, not my thoughts, and certainly not the remote. It got so bad that I just switched over to Netflix, content to deal with the couch-lock I knew was coming. But at that point, I was too far gone to actually function, and just ended up accidentally turning on “Unsolved Mysteries” in freaking French instead. (I shit you not. I even texted a video to our old pot writer, Blaze Ridcully, to see if they could help.)
I couldn’t fix it either. The wires in my brain were so, uh, high, I guess, that I couldn’t do anything to get the stupid show out of French and into English, the language in which I know more than four words total. I just sat there confused instead.
And then I decided if I couldn’t watch TV I would just smoke more instead. Seemed rational at the time. In a bid to do that, I reached toward the arm of the couch to retrieve my grinder and scoop out the rest of the weed. As you can probably guess, my damn arms went all floppy and I ended up dumping weed all over instead. Such a fail. So rather than smoke or watch French “Unsolved Mysteries,” I opted to pass the hell out instead.
So, the moral of this story is that if you’re going to smoke Truck Stop #7, smoke it AFTER you turn on a show and put the grinder away. Otherwise, you’re going to end up covered in weed and stuck watching a show you can’t understand. Still worth it, though — even if I have to pick bits of weed out of the cushions for the next week.