420 Minutes

420 Minutes: The Windham Route

BY IAN STUART

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 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 weed scented 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.

Photography by Matthew Bourgeois

5 p.m.: I made my way back into town blasting marijuanathemed death metal, two of my favorite things finally together. Metal and weed are the chocolate and peanut butter of my thirties. Listening to this band was like discovering Reeses’ peanut butter cups for the first time. I headed to Sticky Bud Farms, located smack in the middle of bustling Windham. The space is brightly lit and inviting. They have a wide selection of glassware and merchandise. It’s the first time I’ve seen an oxygen bar in a dispensary, and it actually might be the first time I’ve seen an oxygen bar since my last spring break 15 years ago. The staff was helpful, friendly, knowledgeable, and happy to answer every question I had. I grabbed a house pre-roll and an eighth of the Cherry Punch strain. Light orange hairs accented light green buds in a perfect Nickelodeon color scheme. A nice cookie, sweet and sour perfume radiated from the well trimmed buds. I jumped back in my car. It was hard not to light the pre-roll right then and there, but I had a few more stops. I didn’t want to get lost on the single road running through intown Windham.

5:30 p.m.: I’m in my car for maybe two minutes before I hit the next dispensary. I head into MAC located in the same strip mall as the Bull Moose I had visited earlier. The shop looks like a combination of a hip bakery and a mountain top lodge. With bright wooden counters and big jars of weed, they had a fantastic selection of flowers to choose from. I looked through the many medicated items they had in their coolers. Feeling a bit peckish, I decided to go with a fairly priced package of medicated peanut butter cups, and after an afternoon of Cannabis Corpse thumping through my car speakers, I was already in the mood. As the wonderfully friendly staff bagged up my goodies, I asked where I should go to grab a bite to eat. “Pat’s, bro,” the answer was immediate and direct. “Perfect stoner food.” I thanked him for his recommendation and made my way to Pat’s. It was dinner time after all.

6 p.m.: I made my way into Pat’s Pizza. There seemed to be a wait for tables but the bar was open. I believe the saying is, “don’t threaten me with a good time.” I sit at the bar and am greeted by the bartender. I get myself a large beer and sink into the menu laying in front of me. Too many choices. I wanted to order the whole menu. I asked for a recommendation and decided to go with the meatballs, for my health. I ordered another beer and started chatting it up with the bartender. We talked about my trip to Windham and what she thought about the scene in her town. “Love it, I’m a big fan of the 420,” she replied, setting another drink in front of me. I let her get back to work as I polish off the meatballs and beer while watching Formula One racing on the nine televisions around me. I finished my meal and thanked the staff for their hospitality. I threw my jacket on and headed to the door before I heard someone say, “You forgot your doggy bag.” I turn around, “Doggy bag? But I polished everything off.” Confused, I grabbed the bag and peered inside. “Ohhhhh,” I exclaimed in delight, “This is a SPECIAL doggy bag!” And to whomever decided to bless me on my way out of the restaurant, thank you. It was a perfect ending to a perfect afternoon in Windham. It was 8 p.m., the sun had set, and I made my way home to enjoy an evening of sampling the goods I had picked up.

If you have some time, do yourself a favor and check out the many wonderful dispensaries in the Windham area and maybe grab dessert at Pat’s after. Cheers.

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