previously published in Weed World, Issue 119
Download PDF: Weed World, Issue 119 – Hawaiian Trainwreck
Grown by: Happy Trees 707
Processed by: Nick of Happy Trees 707
In California, a popular dairy company advertises that “Great milk comes from happy cows and happy cows come from California.” That sentiment is echoed in Happy Trees 707’s mantra, “Happy trees make happy hash.” Single minded focus keeps their cannabis trees very happy and, in turn, tender, loving care makes happy Hashish.
Not as loud and gregarious as other more known hash makers, Nick of Happy Trees 707 has been carving a CBD niche with which to be reckoned. His dedication is borne of the sincere belief that CBD is the true medicine. From his perspective, ‘big pharma’ has no place in healing and for best care, patients can trust in the caregiving of cannabis. For this reason, he has been specializing in full-melt CBD Hashish. When he began making Hashish seven or eight years ago he made full spectrum ice-water Hashish. Three years ago, he switched to segmenting micron sizes and, to facilitate good drying of his Hashish, using the popular ‘microplane’ method.
His first foray into high CBD Hashish was a combination of Jesus OG from Subcool of TGA Seeds and the high CBD strain Cannatonic that was agitated together in one wash and resulted in Hashish that he named ‘Holy Water.’ It went on to win 3rd Place at the 2014 High Time Cannabis Cup in Los Angeles. When he is not tending to Hashish plants at Happy Trees 707, he is busy accumulating accolades for his hard work and pioneering vision. Since last year, he has been awarded:
2014 High Times Cannabis Cup LA – 3 rd Place – Nonsolvent Hash – “Holy Water”
2014 Dab-a- Doo SF Invitational – 1 st Place – Nonsolvent – “Merit Badge”
2014 Emerald Cup – 1 st Place – CBD Flower – “Hawaiian Trainwreck”
2015 Chalice California – 1 st Place – Highest Flower CBD – “Hawaiian Trainwreck”
2015 Chalice California – 2 nd Place – Nonsolvent Sativa – “KC-36”
The Hawaiian Trainwreck seed was brought over from Hawaii by a friend of Nick’s a few years ago. The seed was germinated, cuttings were taken and the plant was allowed to flower. When the flower was made available, Hawaiian Trainwreck was not a particular hit with younger patients. However, older patients really liked it. After being tested the Hawaiian Trainwreck revealed a cannabinoid profile of 11% THC and 10 % CBD; offering a near perfect 1:1 ratio. This Hashish was created using trim and some small nugs. My experience with CBD has been limited to topicals for pain and sprays that I employ when I feel that THC has carried me on too far of a journey; in other words, when I am just too high. Its ability to modulate THC intake doesn’t make it the usual party-time enhancer. I am intrigued about the 1 to 1 ratio THC to CBD which studies have demonstrated is helpful for neuropathic pain, rheumatism, and a boost to overall mood.
Back in July, I received Hawaiian Trainwreck Hashish from Nick at Chalice California. Naturally he had the Hashish stored in a cold environment. He handed it to me and in the short time outside of the cooler, it was subject to the extreme heat of Southern California where the temperature hovered in the mid 90 degrees Fahrenheit. When I opened the jar, the glistening beige beads beckoned me for further inspection. Its greasiness unmistakable, I longed to taste it, but opted to wait until I could experience it fully; without rush due the high temperature. I put aside my pleasure for just this moment. I open the jar and am not surprised to see that the greasy 90μ Hashish has melted into one mass. Although the sample had been kept in the refrigerator, the heads could not help but mush together. However, rather than caking or buttering, the Hashish has merely self-arranged into a tight taffy, and after I prod at it with my dab tool, it stubbornly pulls at itself and the jar like a wailing child holding on to the last vestiges of the summer while being pushed into the first day of school. Opening the jar had not produced a strong ambient scent – a soft sweet odor had wafted out of the jar, but disappeared quickly. Tugging at the Hashish, the smell of treated wood and buttery nuts struts confidently into the room. It is like opening a bag of roasted peanuts while luxuriating in the sauna. Deeper inhalations are rewarded with more nuts and the delicate aroma of vanilla. This exuded aroma reminds me of a baking cake. As the mass of Hashish is both stretchy and shatter-like, I slowly pull it out of the jar, gingerly breaking off a small piece. I began the familiar process of smoothing out the parchment paper, pressing the Hashish into the middle of the paper, folding parchment over the top, and using a heated glass press to flatten out a dab.
It is for the tactile and visual pleasure of Hashish like Hawaiian Trainwreck that presstech has been perfected.
With a swift snap of the wrist, I open the two sides of parchment paper. A super thin, translucent film is stretched onto the parchment paper. In the sun, the pressed Hashish tries to melt further, glistening in the light and inviting me to enjoy it fully. Pressing the Hashish into a dab-sized circle brought back the delicious aroma of nuts and the revived smell is heady. I use my pointy dab tool to draw lines in the Hashish, delineating several servings. The melty Hashish clings to the tool, eliminating the chance of getting perfect strips ideal for dabbing. Rather the Hashish wraps around the pointy end as if spun by a misguided and manic spider. This is bound to be fun. Firing up my torch, I heat my quartz banger and patiently wait for the heat to dissipate. The resin drops into the bucket and bubbles furiously like oil in a frying pan. The medium bodied smoke slides into my lungs with a mild flavor of camphor and pine. One the exhale, all I can think of is almond tea cakes. Unsure if that is the true flavor or if I am just hungry, I take a second, larger dab. True to form, the Hashish bubbles and melts to practically nothing. My mouth is flooded with the taste of almonds and maraschino cherries. I can taste almost nothing else. The exhale is smooth, prompting not even a whisper of a cough. The smoke lingers with the incinerated aroma of delicious toasted buns.
After two dabs, I wait. My experience with Hashish has taught me that some strains take a while to fully express themselves. I need not have worried. Though I felt none of the usual discomfort traveling up the bridge of my nose, within 10 minutes, I can feel a difference come over my mind. I feel propelled to action. I want to do and accomplish and complete, but without judgement. I feel myself becoming devoid of sentimentality. I am not mean, nor rude, but I feel practical, straightforward, and unencumbered by ‘shoulds’ and ‘coulds’. I am concerned only with that which is. My thinking is crisp, sharp, and accurate. I am not experiencing any fuzziness between experiences, but rather a quick switch, as with a Rubik’s cube – one aspect changes swiftly, altering the timbre of the situation at hand. I feel focused and I want to approach tasks with decisiveness and clarity; like scraping off the excess dough off of the edge of a perfect pie. My body practically bubbles with energy.
Maybe I’ll have one more dab. Let’s see what kind of legs this Hashish really has.
I wrangle off another piece of the sticky Hashish and ignoring my usual ritual, place the unpressed dab into the banger. Almond and vanilla wafers tantalize me again. Now feels like a great time to check up on my plants. My husband and I are growing cannabis plants on our rooftop and though it is the hottest time of the day, I feel compelled to go outside and mind them. I bound up the stairs and fling the roof door open, only to be slapped in the face by the intensity of the sun. Will I melt like the Hawaiian Trainwreck? Who knows and who cares? It’s time to work, work, work. I peer at each plant, inspecting and noticing more than I have ever noticed about them. I have a Sour Diesel Pink Jah Goo Churkle whose colas explode in pink pistils. Halfway down the stem, the pistils are white again. The fiery magenta hairs hold my attention for an additional minute and I am off to the next plant. I find myself mumbling incoherently to myself about the state of the plants. They look good.
Actually they look great, great, great.
I notice my propensity to repeat myself for greater emphasis and I chuckle. The sound isn’t melodic or pretty. It’s a functional laugh as if simply punctuating the absurdity of my actions. I have no time for idle thoughts. It’s time to go, go, go! Once I have looked at each of our 20+ plants, I am ready for my next job. As I run down the stairs quickly, I run into my neighbor who looks like he is about to cry. He is nervous, he explains, about an audition in 2 hours for the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus and he wonders if I can come and listen to him. We make our way to his apartment and I watch him eagerly. He starts belting out his tune and after the first go around, I jump up to join him. I want to give him some of the confidence and moxie bestowed upon me by the Hawaiian Trainwreck. I want him to feel my vibe, my sizzle, and my passion. I have lots to spare and sharing is indeed caring. I spend an hour with him, tightening his act and firing his spark before retiring to my own apartment; vaguely aware that I feel tired and a bit spent.
The sun has taken a toll on me, and though my limbs felt like they floated on air just a few hours ago, they are heavy as logs now and I am exhausted. With little effort, I drift into a light sleep and I am happy.