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The Gonzo High Octane Edible

June 6, 2014 by: GanjaKitchenRevolution Desserts ,Vegetarian

The plan was simple: dinner and a hike, right?

One could say a deep conversation was the main culprit to our trouble. Yappin’ away about the universe and life, you’d think we would keep track of time but time kept track of us. Twilight transitioned into darkness, and we quickly realized the trail had been lost in a great abyss of ancient trees. Our lack of panic was quite alarming yet strangely comforting, we were calm and collected. “It’s not our time to die, we’ll be fine.” I threw it out there. Our instincts kicked into overdrive as we began to forge our way back home in complete darkness.

The cackle of coyotes in the distance danced in our ears as other strange animal sounds began to awaken with the onset of nightfall. Blind but left with four other senses to guide us, we both walked confidently through the mountains. After what seemed like hours, we finally stepped our toes out of the wooded mountain scape and onto a dark pavement that stretched for miles. A long route ahead of us with an occasional car passing by– we didn’t waste any opportunity to use their headlights for a guide. We were never the hitchhiking type, so we took our odds in nature.

By chance, a car revealed a hidden road sign to us: WARNING: Now Entering Bear Country.

We both turned to look at each other in disbelief. “You have got to be fucking kidding me, right?” Jessi said. Nocturnal adventures with the possibility of wild, unpredictable, and maybe not so cute fuzzy bears. Two things could happen right now: panic or action. So we sprint forward in the opposite direction.

Maybe we jinxed ourselves by dissecting and laughing at Jimmy’s cryptic letter. Jimmy wrote me a letter and stuffed it into my mail box. A random guy– the type you casually meet and they cling because they have strange serpent-like intentions. That guy who doesn’t take no for an answer, no matter how many times you tell him to stop. A creep. And what woman doesn’t love a fucked up amorous letter from a random older guy– especially with endearing lines like “Didja get my card last week? Didja, Didja, Didja”?

Yes, I did Jimmy, and I have had many friends read it to help me make sense of it too. Jessi was the first one to tell me, “Don’t reply.” By now I was imagining he had a voodoo doll of me and was inserting pins into my body while cursing my name. “Didja feel that, Didja, Didja?” Yeah, maybe I did.

We kept our focus. Jessi brandished her knife and I manned a sizable rock in my right fist. We discussed our plan of action in case a creep or a bear pounced on us. “I’ll pound it on the head with the rock and you can slit its throat.” As our conversations of bloodlust peaked we were suddenly interrupted by the sweet smell of fruity skunk that quickly alerted our consciousness. It had slipped my mind that I was also carrying a precious eighth of cannabis as well. Jessi reminds us of how ridiculous we must look. Two city girls with a knife, makeshift rock weapon, and pockets full of cannabis lurking in the darkness like two feral creatures. Suddenly we’re the predators not the bears or the creeps. We were feeling like two teenage girls who do what they want, when they want, and who find trouble for fun.

With the scent of skunk tickling and caressing our nostrils, we decided to stake out a safe spot to take some midnight tokes. Prowling the land together like Arctic wolves, we sniffed out the perfect location. A little cove of trees on the side of one of the roads provided the best coverage. What we were really hiding from, I don’t know. Not a soul was around for miles and any passers by were long gone. Perhaps years of hiding our cannabis use caused us to carry it away into a protected spot just like a wolf would drag their kill to a safe refuge to consume. We partook in the delicious Sativa smoke, knowing it would help us finish the last leg of our journey. Energy, ease of muscle pain, and clear headedness began to wash over our bodies. Thoughts and ideas we had both pushed to the back of our brains, were now slowly emerging.

There is a long road ahead of us and we still have no water. With cotton mouth creeping up, I try to occupy our minds with a practical conversation like “If we were stranded in the woods for a couple days and…” I asked Jessi if she’d gut a deer if I knocked it out with a rock. I don’t do bloody guts I told her. “Hell yeah, I’ll gut a deer for us. But an Elk would be better,” she said as if looking for the opportunity. We proceeded to discuss how we’d cook it over the fire and bring the rest of it with us along for later. Another car passes by and we’re getting closer to civilization. Our legs are tested as we jog uphill here and there just to speed the whole distance of the journey up. The city glow is finally on the horizon and our goal has almost been accomplished. Where is the fear? We have none, just two girls on a mission.

For the recipe please visit: Ladybud Magazine

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