Under Your Nose
Everest Apothecary was there the whole time
Well, what do you know? Looks like I didn't know any better. Apparently, in 2016, New Mexico's top 25 medical cannabis companies made over $46 million in gross receipts and paid over $12 million to employees. That's a lot of dosh. Which explains why shops like Everest Apothecary are popping up everywhere, seemingly overnight and under the very nose of your fearless reporter. It's impossible to keep up. Surely I can't be blamed for letting one slip past me now and again.
Ahem. I asked my budtender at Everest how long they'd been open, sure that it must have been a week or two at most. “Since the beginning of the year,” she said.
Blast! The old man was obviously slipping again.
The showroom was beautiful and had a nice, calm atmosphere. The staff was professional, attentive and went through the trouble of hand-trimming the buds I picked out. And those buds had some pretty great price tags, too (although the pickings were a little slim). This place has been here for months, and I had no idea! What a bummer.
Not to worry, though. My mood swung right around when I saw the beautiful, crystalline flowers available. I picked out two and watched the 'tender carefully trim the buds as she weighed them out. It was a very different process from most of the places I've been to, and it was nice to see.
I ended up with two strains in my bag when I got home: Icefall (THC: 17.68%, CBD: 0.3%—$9/gram) and Super Lemon OG (THC: 17.25%, CBD: 0.23%—$9/gram). Both were springy, fresh and aromatic.
I started with the Super Lemon OG, a sativa-dominant hybrid of Super Lemon Haze and Captain Krypt OG. It smelled alluringly of citrus and diesel and tasted fruity and bright. Smoking it was a sensual pleasure. The effects were easy to handle, bringing on a slight head buzz with little sluggishness. The mood-altering power of this strain was immediately felt. I was overcome with feelings of euphoria and well-being that remained with me for a good hour or so after the physical effects had receded.
Later in the evening, I started breaking apart a nugget of Icefall. This stinky morsel is another sativa-dominant hybrid. Its pungent odor tickled my nose hairs and accosted my throat. It was a strong expectorant, and I had trouble getting through the bowl in a timely manner. By the end, I was sputtering and coughing with tears streaming down my face. I was making a performance of it, falling to my knees and grabbing my throat while melodramatically choking out: “A-hyuh!” I was laughing, too, which didn't help.
Icefall turned out to be one of those perfect strains for dealing with depression or general sluggishness. It put me in a great mood and inspired me to jump up and be active. These kinds of strains are always my favorites, as they can turn a chore into a fun experience and typically increase my awareness and openness. I become more engaged with the world and less self-absorbed—always a good state to chase.
In fact, maybe if I'd been up my own ass a little less, I would have already known about Everest and its beautiful medicine. Well if there's one thing I can teach you again and again, dear reader, it's this: It's not being wrong that's shameful. It's staying wrong.