Strain review: Happy Camper Cannabis Company Breakdance wax
Let’s get one thing out of the way: I do not like camping. And, before you start judging me, please know that I’ve had like 15 near-death experiences from it, including one very traumatizing bout with getting completely stuck on a low river with virtually no water flow. That was my last attempt to conquer the art of camping, and all it led to was a sunburn from hell, some lost flip-flops, and some really embarrassing rock bruises.
That said, there is apparently one type of camping I’m into, and that’s The Happy Camper Cannabis Company’s type of camping. If you’re unfamiliar with Happy Camper, let me school you, since it’s the one type of camping I understand. Happy Camper is a cannabis company out of Bailey, Colorado, and they make all sorts of killer edibles and concentrates, like butane hash oil and regular ol’ hash. Pagosa Therapeutics recently started carrying Happy Camper’s wax, and they sent some over for us to try.
My initial response to this wax was a tepid fear, as it was housed in a little cardboard box shaped like a tent. Cute, but also a reminder that I suck at all things outdoors. Was it aimed at the outdoorsy crowd, I wondered? Do I have what it takes to, uh, figure out how to pitch this shit? Or will I fail miserably, like that time I had to have our neighboring campers erect my crappy Sam’s brand shelter?
I needn’t have worried, though. The cardboard tent was way easier to navigate than the real outdoors, and even better was that inside the tent, there was a plastic container actually containing the wax. Those, my friends, I’m familiar with. And, once I popped that sucker open, it was smooth sailing. Turns out that Happy Camper’s wax is – unlike real outdoor equipment – hella easy to work with. When I unwrapped the goodness, I found a bright yellow hunk of wax that was just the perfect consistency. It was solid yet easy to manipulate, and just the slightest bit crumbly. I had no issue scooping up a chunk and throwing it into a vape. Too bad real tents aren’t that easy.
It vaporized just as easily. A couple clicks of the pen and it emitted some of the thickest, densest vapor I’ve inhaled. As with real camping, this wax will kick your ass if you aren’t careful. I choked, and choked, and then choked some more. In fact, my notes state that “Happy Camper has me choking like a son of a bitch.” There was no point in hiding it. I’m pretty sure the neighbors heard my hacking, which was followed by howls of laughter, because a couple of hits were all it took to get me super freaking stoned.
And when I say stoned, I mean it. My notes go from pretty standard, containing things like, “Tastes good!” to this doozy: “The f@!k is a monolith. It sounds like a dinosaur. Rawrrrrrrr, monolith!” I would love to tell you what the hell I was talking about, but alas, as with camping, I know nothing. It’s way out of my sober wheelhouse. That dino-mess is followed up with things like, “Oh my god. My head is high as f@!k,” and “My eyes feel like bulging balloons.” I vaguely remember that feeling.
That’s where my notes end, though. A weird dino comment, some stuff about bulging balloon eyes, and then radio silence. I’m assuming that’s because I passed out in a puddle of my own drool, from which I didn’t rise until the next morning. I’m fine with it, though. My life isn’t exciting enough for me to feel like I missed out on anything during my 17-hour nap.
In short, unlike real camping, this wax is badass. Will it also probably kick your ass? Sure. Probably. But that – and those rare times you equate words with dinosaur sounds – is what makes concentrates so fun.