toasted n’ posted presents…
Critical Mass by Chalice Farms
Critical Mass by Chalice Farms
Welcome back to toasted n’ posted where we will be venturing over state lines for the next couple reviews. To kick it off, we have Critical Mass from Chalice Farms. Chalice Farms is a reputable producer from Oregon State. The sensation of one-stop shopping in the form of vertically integrated stores is not something I am used to. I wish I could go to the ‘Nike Store’ for all of my favorite Washington producers. Damn LCB.
Anyway, Critical Mass is a strain I’ve been wanting to review because it is renown as one of the OGs of the CBD-dominant movement. This name hangs among Stephen Hawking, AC/DC, and Harlequin. Critical Mass is conjured when pairing Afghan with Skunk #1. While there are THC exclusive breeds of Critical Mass, I am more familiar with the 2:1 CBD phenotypes. Many praise this moldable hybrid as a brilliantly reworked version of Big Bud; time and fire will tell. This particular production bears 14.74% CBD and 9.36% THC which is an astounding collective potency. Many growers fail to groom even 14% CBD, let alone alongside a palpable 9% THC. I can’t wait to ride this wave!
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I embrace the vivacious flowers with complete disregard. I am teleported into the heart of a fruity rainforest, coaxed down the slippery sour slopes of a rockslide. In fragrant free-fall, I am lashed at by a widespread aura of damp rejuvenation. Particles of tender berry flourish within the mist. Critical Mass emanates a soothing song, laying to rest all anxieties at its immediate embrace. I can only muse at what healing powers lay dormant behind this luscious veil of verdancy. A tender mossy sour bares a mild earthen grit as it leads me towards a flowing basin fruit-derived sucrose. I feel as if I can sense the lively sugars breathing and pulsing with vigor.
I slurp up the assertive nectar of the Gods and plunge my nose completely into the jar. I feel literal grains of fruit pulp grazing past my nostrils, as if I’m ingesting a mulched smoothie through my nose. The profile is purely uplifting and delicate, it bears almost no weighted or assertive qualities. Just a feathery pillow composed of fresh dew and gushing fruit.
In crazed pursuit of more terpenes, I sever the massive flower. In return, I receive a honed wind of vivacious gassy sour. I feel as if I was just cast inside the blender, pulverized endlessly alongside a rigid mountain of fresh fruit. Strangely enough, the unbridled assault unlocks an herbal reprieve. I lunge towards the sanctuary offered within the cleansing aloe oasis. I receive interrupted gusts of mint, chamomile, chem, and tea leaves. It isn’t long before my safe haven is dismantled by another unwieldy burst of gushing fruity freshness. The combination is mirrors what I’d imagine year old Hawaiian Punch to taste like…awesome.
Critical Mass wields a darkened demeanor, the only exuberance radiating from the forbearing glow of its stigmas. Thin hairs spawn in great number, scaling the sides of the somber titan. They wear a shadowy marmalade cloak as they dance across the canopies of crystallized leaf. The foliage itself crawls between a warm pine and bitter crocodile. At first glance, the flower appears to be quite delicate, filing into a calculated arrangement of sprawling petals. Built like a spinning top, the fat base curls up into a refined point. A rotund pyramid of psychoactivity.
I fell to the illusion as I didn’t realize how the reaching desires of Critical Mass are bolstered by droves of adhesive resin. I attempt to defy the density with a determined squeeze. The defenses hold up, comparable of a 70% indica dominant hybrid. I believe the general structure takes more after the Skunk heritage, however, the Afghan influence is clear within these responsibly dense nodes. This strain is ridiculously sticky, I’m quite confident that I could slurp the CBD from my fingers after seconds of contact. My gaze is captured by the trichome glaze, a million crystal smiles blink in response to my glances. The stalks are rather stout but each carry a beanbag of a head. It is truly rare when a CBD-dominant strain smells and looks this good.
Leaf to flame, I’m incinerated by a moistened feisty sugar. Billows of tender tropical relief spill out onto a bed of herbal spears. The signature cleansing CBD invigoration encases my tongue. A peppery kick knocks into my lungs with each hit, however the blow is padded by an invisible mattress of rotund fruit. A smoky blaze of ripe berries becomes coated in a smoldering caramelized glaze.
The aggressive sugars render me towards sweet surrender. The embers of the bowl soon fall away into the ripe tarnished licks of CBD. The withheld citrus-accented herbal remedy is a welcome companion as I approach the finish line. Critical Mass stomps out into a fiery finish of mulched wood. The dismantled embers occasionally cough out a burp that miraculously mirrors chocolate.
The high blooms instantaneously, though it demonstrates evolving levels of complexity. The sensation begins as a charming suite of enlightenment. Everything around me has been imbued with a welcoming glow. Personally, I experience a sense of physical lightness and inebriated grace. An ethereal smile becomes plastered to my face. I feel an enlivening warm sap crawl through my blood. My body is soon imbued with an otherworldly glow.
My body becomes immune to unpleasant stimulation; aches dissipate and I feel groovy as hell. My physical form feels fluid, as if I could squeeze through a crack in the sidewalk. All parts of my being have become seamlessly connected. My body feels giddy as my knees bounce with anticipation. I struggle to remain seated at my keyboard. I am overcome with the unfamiliar urge to run around outside, perhaps go for an evening jog? I choose to suppress this desire, but this high appears to be suited for an active person. The astronomical mental rise is decorated with a lattice of flourishing physical euphoria.
My head is soon cast into a comfortably numb cocoon, insulated against outside influence. I look inward towards the nexus of my personality and assess recent events. I find it strange; the high is physically energizing but mentally, it morphs into a reflecting pool of introspection. Critical Mass has a strange way of dissolving your personal preferences and barriers, allowing you to see more than you would consciously. I’m sure this strain would be a charming addition to a meditation retreat or an event of self-discovery.
Hot damn, what a winner. I absolutely love reaching blissful annihilation with Critical Mass. Sweet, sticky, flowers that breed a powerful high. The aroma is charming, though I wish it translated into the flavor with less inhibition. The high is absolutely bewildering for a CBD dominant strain. Within a single flower, this experience heavily confirms the theories behind the benefits of combining THC and CBD. The sensation feels natural and guarded, but wildly powerful and permeating. Critical Mass has withstood the test of time for a reason, you need to experience it for yourself. Go on down to Chalice Farms in Portland, Oregon and grab some Critical Mass today! As always, thanks for reading.
Critical Mass Score: 91/100 points
Stay high and stay blessed,