I’m aware that I should never eat ChapStick. That doesn’t stop ChapStick makers from tempting me year after year with lines of even more robust flavors that hold no nutritional value.
Smelling Purple Dream for the first time filled me with that same intense desire, knowing full well that masticating the massive nug would do nothing but fill me with regret. Still, in a world where smelling like skunk or urine is a virtue, it was refreshing to find a strain that wouldn’t make a non-user rush to find their Febreeze.
By the numbers: $10/gram, $150/ounce at The Herbal Cure, 985 S. Logan St. in Denver.
For all of its olfactory pleasures, I haven’t been too taken with Purple Dream in the past. It’s like an ex you break up with amicably so you can remain Facebook friends with their parents. Blue Dream ranked No. 1 on my 2014 list of strains I smoked, but crossing it with Purple Kush tends to give it a lethargy that seems antithetical to me — or else it leaves me wishing I was one of those people who find that Kush strains tend to wind them up instead of down.
Getting to know Purple Dream:
Of the two predominant phenotypes I see, this sample leans so far toward Purple Kush it might as well be the purple drank itself. Bushy with generous amounts of light peach hairs, it’s a “Where’s Waldo?” experiment in trying to find any green whatsoever. For all of that Hindu mountain structure, you’re hard pressed to find that traditional rubber and pine as it’s fruit-forward from the moment you pop the top. The rich, dark grape aromas are like a jar of Welch’s concord grape jelly, but only if you ran out before finishing your PB&J and added in some strawberry jam to get you by.
More cannabis criticism
I often describe Blue Dream as “workout weed”, something I desperately needed after a pair of rainy days here in Denver left me homebound. Tossing a dime sized hit in my vaporizer, I set out to bike the Highlands, one of my favorite high pastimes. For fruity strains like Purple Dream, vaporizing is my favorite method for extracting all of that flavor, and three large rips held true without tasting too burnt.
As expected, the tires need air. I walk the bike a block to the car wash, feeling a noticeable uptick in my heart rate and a swirling head high. Fumbling around with the tires is awkward and takes me longer than it should, or at least long enough to convince me I’m being watched. I’m plodding around when I should be flying.
The route I’m taking is designed to optimize my high as I lumber uphill in a comically low gear. At first, I’m foggy and concerned about how much room I’m providing cars that may attempt to pass. The fact that I’ve seen zero cars in any direction doesn’t alleviate this, instead it morphs into an internal dialogue about if it’s even legal to bike while I’m high.
A closer look at Purple Dream:
“You can get a DUI on a bike, right?” I ask myself, secretly knowing that what I’m doing is illegal. “Should I pull over and walk this thing home?” As much as I want to feel connected to Brooklyn via an old El-P album, I pull out my earbuds to better concentrate on my own concrete path.
My legs disagree with every forward movement. They’re becoming more and more like the aluminum frame that propels me, rigid and past their prime. In my maiden voyage of 2015, I’ve neglected to bring water and quickly find my mouth so dry I can taste my own tongue. Instead of making it to Sloan’s Lake, I cut short the journey and coast home, the first enjoyable portion of my trek.
As much as I’d like to project the effortless energy of Blue Dream onto its purple relative, it never pans out. Instead, Purple Dream is an intensely moody strain, giving short bursts as often as it saps you. It’s a finicky infant. Situationally, I can get in some light gardening or just tidy up while enjoying the more indica pain relief. I just try not to stray too far from home in case it flips.