Sundae Driver by Bubba

Sundae Driver by Bubba

Welcome back to toasted n’ posted where we get to the nitty gritty of the sticky icky. Today, we have a strain that generated a hurricane of hype out of California; Sundae Driver. Sundae Driver is the indica-dominant cross of Grape Pie and Fruity Pebbles OG. I’ve been aching to procure a quality specimen of this strain and there are no hands more capable than those of our pal Bubba. I’m eager to qualify or dismantle the dramatic build-up to this day, so let’s burn it down!

I dig into Sundae Driver and sweet songs of somber berry swell to the surface. A chilled wind of savory earth mists across the syrupy fruit muck below. A charming knuckle of dusted cocoa leads the wind and solidifies the gelatinous mounds. A tender backboard of smoked herb enhances the pseudo-chocolate grit.

Buried under layers of rich earth is a genuine sweetness, mildly molted through lenses of chilled fruit. A pastry confectionery bubbles to cement buttery notes of creamy vanilla at its surface. Heralding winds of ambiguous sour stir at Sundae Driver’s farthest reaches. The profile is gentle, savory, and charming as it were Dosidos without the stabbing gaseous elements.

In hopes of dislodging any reservations, I pulverize the flowers under my nose. Almost instantly, I regret my words. The first defense that rushes out from the fracture is a slick tacky gas. A diesel jet suffocated by the rigid earth from which it was summoned. The gassy fudge continues to swell into a nimbus of sour exacerbation. The pasty fumes scathe my senses, temporarily discarding over half of its smooth introductory subtleties to fuel its newfound primal scream of raw diesel.

The feature that immediately drew me in were the rosey peach hairs that scraggle across the surface of Sundae Driver. Awkward nails that curve inward, often corkscrewing into matted patches of feathered pumpkin. In vivid contrast, a bed of exuberant greens tosses below. Irradiated jets of lime carve elaborate veins of hieroglyphics onto the tumbling petals. Worn olive does well to map out areas of high contrast as competing strokes of pear sweep overhead like a canopy. Certain ridges manage to be overtaken by menacing shadows of plum. The scarcity of the saturated purple hues offer the flower a lot of depth and presence. Broad and gentle, there is a soft demeanor to the exterior of Sundae Driver.

These flowers seem to be encased within glaciers of psychoactivity. There are hardly any patches of foliage that aren’t entirely entombed by the twinkling translucence of trichomes. Dazzling spectacles layered in haphazard succession. The general architecture of Sundae Driver is a touch chaotic; sweeping fans amassing into broad arrowheads. The flowers are impressively malleable, almost overly accommodating to my invasive pokes and prods. Under enough pressure, the flower shows some moxie at its core. This amiable density must be an attribute inherited from its Fruity Pebbles OG parent.

Leaf to flame, out rolls a carpet of green tea leaf and prickled sour. Little did I know that this precession was to welcome a parade of nose-contorting ferocity. Lancing citrus needles pin my sinuses into place as they are bludgeoned savagely by clubs of grape tartness. Behind the winding stiffness of each blow are charges of sneaky diesel. Just enough of the ferocious gas is exposed to supplement the biting lemon and its bittersweet edge. The profile is ‘cutting’, in a word.

I prepare for the exponential rise in tangy intensity, however, the profile seems to fold over to remember its rich cocoa origins. Clumps of choking chocolate grit are tossed over the immolated fruit armaments. It seems that Sundae Driver was testing me, waiting to see if my pursuit was dedicated enough to reap the fruits within. In a complete 180*, the profile has shifted to support a school of herbal cool and tongue-smacking dry sweetness. Dehydrated hillocks are heaved onto my tongue, burying me in its powdered kindness. As the bowl chars, the profile finishes into a calming slurry of creamy chocolate strawberry.

Maintaining a theme of syrup, the high too, carries a creeping gelatinous spirit. I feel thick tentacles of tranquility snare around my shoulders and under my arms. As if an invisible spirit is helping hold me upright. The kind phantom continues to gather strength, gathering stillness in my mind. My typically racing thoughts are impeded so they are more accessible. The stillness isn’t inebriating, but empowering.

While relishing my newfound discipline of focus, I return to realize how much my physical state had degenerated. My limbs feel as if they are dripping heaps of sweating ice cream. Maybe this strain is called Sundae Driver because it drives you to feel like a sundae. A disorienting humidity begins to fill my mind, a sloshing veil is cast over my eyes. The initial sense of calm is now being fermented into a cauldron of distracting euphoria. I know I will soon be a vacant-eyed prisoner of Sundae Driver.

This strain is cool for a lot of reasons. Personally, I treasure any flower that is capable of leading you up one road and then providing a completely different face of the profile to enjoy. There are certainly shades of complexity present in Sundae Driver and I found some welcome similarities within it to a handful of my favorite strains. Summation, Grape Pie is the root of all dankness. As always, thanks for reading.

Sundae Driver score: 90/100

Aroma – 17

Physical – 19

Flavor – 18

Consistency – 20

Sensation – 15

Stay high and stay blessed,

Kushman Bonglegs

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