Boise, Idaho
During our travels in and around the western U.S., we stopped for a bit in Colorado.
We saw some amazing sights, but, for me, the best part of the stay in Colorado was my Rocky Mountain High!
Colorado was the first state to legalize recreational marijuana effective January 1, 2014.

I’d been looking forward to imbibing again for a very, very long time.
The last time I smoked pot was in 1979. It was not a pleasant experience because the pot was laced with something. I swore that I’d never smoke again until marijuana was regulated.
Who knew that regulation would actually happen a MERE 36 YEARS later?
Once we decided to drive through part of Colorado last October, I started researching recreational marijuana via Google.
There are a plethora of Web sites to help people find the best shop to meet their needs. There are also maps to show one how to best get there…

I ended up going to two shops: one in Telluride and one in Durango.
As we drove to Telluride, I kept changing my mind about whether to buy or not.
Once we got there, we stopped at a park to let Sophie run around. Sitting on the grass (no pun intended) were two guys stoned out of their minds as they continued to smoke.

Think of Beavis and Butthead. The guys we saw looked and laughed and spoke exactly like them. I told Rich that if ever there was an advertisement NOT to smoke, it was seeing those two guys.
I had only smoked a handful, well maybe two handfuls, of times before. I enjoyed the affects much more than drinking while I was a crazy teenager.
As we drove around the Telluride area, I finally decided to go ahead with my purchase because I might never have gotten the opportunity to do so again.
Rich dropped me off at the Alpine Wellness store. I had no idea what to expect as I walked into the door.

My driver’s license was checked at the first door to make sure that I was of age, but my license was not copied. The receptionist did add a line to her hash marks (no pun intended) count of residents vs. non-residents.

There were dozens of artistic looking bongs on shelves around the store. And the display shelves housed an overwhelming number of glass jars with a wide variety of colorful marijuana buds.

I was greeting by a 35-ish year old woman, dressed very professionally who looked and spoke like she was a college professor.
I confessed that this was my first time buying marijuana ever and that I hadn’t had any for decades.
We talked a bit about what I wanted. I didn’t want to get crazy high. I just wanted to get mellow, relax, and enjoy some music.
Turns out that growing marijuana now is an exact science. Different strains of plants produce different experiences.

The saleswoman recommended a particular type and said that she thought it would be perfect for me.
She bagged up an eighth ounce. Then we talked about papers to wrap the marijuana into a joint. I said that I used to use Zig Zag. She retrieved a package for me.

I had forgotten to get cash, so I pulled out my credit card, and she said, “Oh, we don’t take plastic. But there’s an ATM machine in the corner.” I withdrew some cash and paid $30 for the pot and a few bucks for the papers.
(Banks are reluctant to process transactions for pot stores because while it’s legal in the state, it’s still federally illegal to buy pot.)
With my purchase in a brown paper bag, I left the store.
I have to admit that even though I was within my legal rights, I felt like a criminal and sheepishly looked about as I hurried out to the Jeep where Rich was waiting like a bank heist getaway driver… 🙂
To be continued…