TRAVEL
420 Minutes: The Windham Route B Y I A N S T UA R T
I was asked to jet up to Windham and check out their medical marijuana scene. They have a number of highly acclaimed dispensaries, and Windham happens to be one of my old stomping grounds. Covered bridge: here I come! I took the winding and terrifyingly narrow River Road from Westbrook into Windham. Whipping past yellowing trees and various political signs strewn across yards, miles of middle class homes lined the shallow shoulder of my route. I grew up on the Gorham/Windham line and have fond memories of creating quite the ruckus around these parts. And as I drove my little car through the hilly terrain, I started to get the feeling that I may create a ruckus that afternoon...for old times’ sake. I had planned to hit at least three of the many weed shops Windham has to offer and also take in some of the local fare at some point. With a quarter tank of gas and a wad of cash burning a hole in my flannel pocket, I was ready. I pulled into Windham around 2 p.m. and before hitting a single dispensary, I headed directly to the Bull Moose in town, as I needed a soundtrack for this trip. The place had not changed a bit. This was my spot for many years in high school. Browsing the same metal and hardcore cds weekend after weekend, I felt like I was back in 2004. I should have been prepared and worn a faded black shirt and my cargo shorts. I looked for a hip hop album that might peak my interest, but didn’t seem to find anything that caught my attention. I checked out the very small punk section but had no use for 30 used Rancid CDs. I lastly made my way to the metal section, which was decently sized. I poked around and didn’t find much. I was about to head out before taking a quick look at the Cannibal Corpse section... nothing. But, what’s this? Cannabis Corpse? There’s a metal band called Cannabis Corpse? Well, if this ain’t a sign?! So I picked up Cannabis Corpse and headed to the counter. “These guys rip!,” said the pierced-up teenager behind the cash register. I popped the CD in my stereo and headed toward Kind and Co. I had made a great selection; they DID rip. The band played with such urgency and I was jamming along so hard that I was speeding and swerving harder than an unregistered car hauling moonshine. 3 p.m.: I pulled into the gravel parking lot of Kind and Co. and made my way up the ramp into the meticulously organized dispensary. They have a glass case that wraps through the space and a large collection of their trademarked clothing on one side. Those hats are badass, but I can’t smoke and review a hat, so on to the medication. They had a nice selection of flowers and edibles and a dizzying array of concentrates. I wanted something that was unique to their store, so after looking at this and that, I decided to go with Kind and Co’s Moonshine Haze concentrate. It was golden and bright, like
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an early morning sun you only see on an acid trip. A pungent aroma of pine and citrus was immediately apparent upon opening the container. It was my first pick-up, and already my car smelled like it was sprayed with a heavy dose of weedscented Febreeze. On to the next one… 4 p.m.: I headed to the outer limits of Windham, towards the Rangely area. I’ve heard many good things about the shops that way and wanted to sample one. I happened upon Paul’s Boutique, which was doing curbside only, but while I was calling I was greeted by an employee at the door. I asked for an eighth of their finest buds, and he obliged and ducked back into the shop. I had been hanging out next to my car for maybe two minutes when the employee came back. “Candy Land,” he said as he handed me the bag. “Everyone seems to love it!” I thanked him for a quick and easy transaction and jumped back in my car. Not only did he set me up with a nicelooking slice of the Candyland strain, but he also included a free pack of 100 mg Watermelon gummies. My eyes widened. My mouth watered. I was like a bear with a thyroid problem that had access to a cooler full of candy bars and bait. The Candyland was a dark-colored flower, crystallized like a disco ball in a house of mirrors. With hints of dark berries and orange zest, the bud smelled like an expensive edible arrangement you’d only see at a retirement party. Cured perfectly, I was glad I brought my rolling papers along for the trip.
