We are somewhere near the border of New Mexico and Arizona, headed to Tucson. I'm about to smoke some Banana Macaroon, grown by High Noon Cult. I bought a gram of it in Ruidoso, New Mexico, at the R Greenleaf dispensary there. Did that shop go all deli-style? I used to prefer deli-style, a.k.a. bulk. But deli means no package dates, no provenance. Maybe it's better that way, no fussing over dates. What you get is what you get.
I bought single grams of seven different kinds of cannabis in Ruidoso. Made my own sampler pack. Of the seven strains I purchased, this Banana Macaroon was the most visually distinctive. Lots of red hairs. Crystals on mint-green trichomes. Thin, tall, even skinny buds. This gram weighed out to 1.06 grams. It has a pleasant, fruity scent. It's spongy. Soft. Unusual-looking bud.
I am breaking off a little morsel from the skinny totem-shaped bud. We are now in Arizona.
The Banana Macaroon hit well. I used the $6 glass one-ee I (also) bought in Arizona. I have my own glass back home but I don't mess around driving through Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas to get from the St. Louis area to Tucson. I didn't find the Banana Mac to be especially flavorful but I did taste some cream and some fuel.
It's been a while since I have smoked in a car. I should say, I am riding shotgun. I am not driving. I don't drive and smoke. Not since 2011 when I made a bone-headed nearly disastrous driving decision after just having puffed a one-ee from a dugout. It was about four years ago that I fired up a Grape Kush pre-roll from the Pecos Valley Productions in Roswell right along this stretch of road, Arizona along I-10 headed west just over the New Mexico border. My wife has the wheel the rest of the way to Tucson, so I'm blazing. We'll be in Tucson in two and a half hours.
I'm feeling the fuel. There's an energy in my legs. The rush, the bite. San Simon River, dry. Mountains all around. Ranchland, scrub land, desert, speed limit 75. There are snow-capped peaks on some of these mountains, which is not usually the case. The sky is clear but the air is hazy. Two hours to Tucson, 13 miles out of Bowie. Telephone poles, electric lines. Remorse, regret, second thoughts. This is that bite. The weed goes in and starts pulling skeletons out of your closet, if you have them. But it's part of the process, it's part of the high. It can be therapeutic. This is the hard part, you just gotta get through it...
Click here for the full review of Banana Macaroon by High Noon Cult...





