Critical Haze by Canna Sol

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Critical Haze by CannaSol Farms

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Critical Haze by Canna Sol Farms

Welcome back to toasted n’ posted where the good times are always rolling. We’re checking out a new farm today by the name of Canna Sol. Canna Sol Farms is an outdoor operation that was highly recommended to me on my virgin visit to Dank’s Wonder Emporium. The strain we chose for this fateful introduction was Critical Haze. The name just popped out at me, love me a good haze. I’m known to be quite critical, we should get along just fine. I believe this even more once I discover that Critical Haze is a cross of Afghan Haze and Critical Mass. Afghan Haze is one of the few strains I’ve encountered in my lifetime to which I’ve stood no chance. It knocks me senseless every time. I’m not sure what being ‘too high’ is, but I’m sure Afghan Haze has pushed me to the brink on several occasions. The counterpart is the lovely, yet underrated, Critical Mass which is a cross of Afghani and Skunk No.1. Two Afghan Parents?! This may be more than I’d bargained for, oh well, there is no greater honor than death by combat! Reinforcing my fears is a total cannabinoid percentage of 27.9. Further dissecting this figure proves that Critical Haze has only 23.60% THC and the remaining 4.30% cannabinoids are shrouded in mystery. This production seems potent and versatile, two of my favorite things! Let’s dig in.

The community likes to typically talk down on the quality of outdoor bud, hopelessly charmed by the flash and uniformity of hydroponic flower. Who’s to blame them? We mustn’t forget, however, about the tucked-away treasures that accommodate the occasionally rougher looking outdoor flowers. After all; indoor grows spend thousands, if not millions, trying to imitate the fireball looming right outside of your door. Somewhat swayed by public opinion, I wasn’t expecting much as far as the aroma in this production. I pompously fling the cap off of the jar and throw my face thoughtlessly into the container. Instantly, there was so much to appreciate. Foremost, a sweet and supple muskiness that smell like your grandfather’s loafers fell into a drawer of hard candy.

A delicate nectar trickles off of the weighted dormant air. Each droplet of dew is so satisfying as it ripples throughout the body of the aroma. The nonintrusive serum gushes freely from the wellspring. Around the forming pond is a bizarre, energizing waft of sandalwood. The stern, flat, and bold note struck me. The forceful forest arm proves to become soothing and palatable. At the core of the benign lumber, is a firm kernel of skunky essence. A minute peppercorn fiercely embodying an echo of its Skunk No. 1 mother. A light, peppery, cool herbal draft whips around in the wake. The initial amorphous sweetness stirs wonderfully with the wood panel’s reduction of the peppered air. Overall, this sensation comes off quite similarly to a cooled cup of green tea.

In efforts of inciting the wrath of this subdued storm, I tear open the largest flower. As I snap the bud and hear the foliage crack, feisty jets of flavor jut outward from the fresh wounds. Virile lances of stabbing tartness send me reeling. I regain my composition and dive back into the brawling aroma. After clashing with this odor for some time, I find that the weaponized scent is definitely citrus in origin, like a violent lemon haze. Who knew that succulent serrated claws lie in wait behind the harmless and alluring presentation.

Streaks of vibrant lime tear across a bouquet of complimentary verdancy. Cascading pools of pear crash onto cliffs of delicate fern and basil leaves. Winding outward from under the admirable display of color are thin bronzed hairs. The numerous tendrils mob together creating rich nests of the toasted orange color. The bud structure appears dense at first glance, but a slightly closer inspection will prove how it is barely clinging to the stem. The buds are bulbous and ambitious, but they are cured so proficiently they do not stand a chance to a good shake. The flowers themselves, however, are resistant to a forceful squeeze and quickly regain their shape. The phenotype demonstrates varied qualities of both indica and sativa plants in a polarized manner. Critical Haze dawns the qualities of a true hybrid brilliantly. The trichomes on this production seem to be humbled, not to say that they are small or deformed. They simply take a backseat to the strange physical form and wandering display of color. A closer look allows me to appreciate the glistening slick skin of resin plastered onto every fiber of Critical Haze. Clusters of globulous heads wave back at me with a sparkling reflection. The trichome production on this flower seems consistent, every section of the flower is dusted considerably with milky stalks.

Leaf to flame, the bold board swings first. The sedated woodland fist provides a ladder for an array of supporting flavors. The flat, sweet, woody quality falls to the bottom of the broth, stampeded upon by its brethren. The pulverized sugar is pounded deeper and deeper into my tastebuds. Atop the defeated charging forces is a rushing tidal wave of herbal semi-menthol air. This note curls into an emboldened fist that eventually savagely dives into the torn sandalwood scraps. The disturbed air proves to be quite formidable and thick. It is difficult not to cough during this violent resurgence of forested herb.  From this rampaging beast seeps a relinquished breath of rich earthen hash. Even in its harshest state, the belligerent cloud still manages to hold some degree of smoothness. Critical Haze invites itself past your lips just to stab its self-righteous daggers into your back. I’m in love with the tiers of decadent deception demonstrated in Critical Haze.

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The approach of the high is very slow, subtle, and natural. It doesn’t seem to be introduced from an outside source at all, a natural euphoria blossoms from my blood cells. A delicate pleasure courses through my capillaries and quickly encapsulates my body in a unique suite of comfort. My mind is at ease, as if an invisible ethereal waterfall gallantly pours its tepid contents onto my head. I feel to be wavering in my conscious, almost incapacitated by the euphoric swarm. I sit helplessly bobbing in a boundless sea of indica influence. The spirit of this high is buoyancy. There is just enough sativan influence to keep your mind afloat and awake. This effort proves to be futile and quickly dismissed in contrast to the constant grounding pull of the Afghani. To be centered at the eye of this calming cataclysm is true bliss. I am stranded with nowhere else I’d rather be, a uniquely comforting coupling of emotions. The motto of this strain should be “Think less, Relax more.” Enjoy the cheerful disengagement offered by Critical Haze, but do not indulge too freely or chance facing your pillow and a nap.

Canna Sol, I wasn’t expecting such a strong first impression. Your bud was aromatic, tasty, and the high provided was immensely pleasurable. You are a monster of a producer at your price point, you need only defy the stigmas the mainstream consumers have about outdoor to conquer the market! I am glad to report that the eighth weighed in properly at 3.5 grams on the nose! No corners cut by Canna Sol in any facet of their operation!

I have to give a special thanks to Dank’s Wonder Emporium in Olympia, WA. They allowed me to acquire such a delectable strain and be a special guest on their wonderful live show, The Chronicast. The Chronicast takes place everyday at 4:20pm live on their youtube channel, be sure to check it out. Look hard enough and you may even see me on there. As always, thanks for reading!

Critical Haze Total Score: 89/100

Stay high and stay blessed,

Kushman Bonglegs

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