Terr Thompson Gas, ass or grass. nobody rides for free.â The old biker saying that some theorize originated in the â70s is in my mind as I pull into Elevations. The dispensaryâs north location appears to have once been a gas station, and the pumps sit empty and almost camera ready. The green fairy that is ganja reminds me Iâm in need of some elevating, so I shuffle and shimmy my way in.Â
The mom-and-pop vibe and the feeling that the budtenders might be a tad overworked at this drugstore make for a tepid start. I stop dead in my tracks with the nostalgia of my former career as I stare at their endearing snow-white Christmas tree. Being that I used to be an overworked MMJ badge-holder myself, I drive home with the reminder that some of the most powerful dank Iâve ever had came from unexpected places.Â