A sativa-hybrid of mad potency, White Cindy 99 offers something that most highs, debilitating as they are, cannot: the simultaneous escape from a crazy reality with a razor-sharp focus that rivals energy drinks or other methods of meditation. An amalgamation of The White and Cindy 99, the flower is an ideal day-strain for any connoisseur, and we were delighted to try some from Three Rivers. 

Critics couldn’t help but fawn over the frostiness of the girthy buds. Each dusted everything it touched with the same sandy trichomes that caught our eyes in the first place; our fingers, the rolling tray and of course, our freshly-packed bowl, were all covered in sweet sugars. Her aroma was woody, with undertones of musky mandarin orange and a little spice, all “reminiscent of a cobbler.” 

This thing hit fast. Straight to the mountain-top we flew, as if by heavenly zephyr. We were pleasantly obliterated, and raved in jittery conversation as we gasped for balance. The wondrous world was, for a short spell, hazy and beyond reach. The whirlwind was amplified by another puff minutes later, a rip-roaring encore further pushed the envelope. 

As our highs sustained throughout late morning and into afternoon, we were easily distracted, though always for the best reasons (life seemed especially amusing that day). Math and reasoning failed us, but the high enabled functionality to complete feats of physical labor – albeit a bit slower than normal – and we had a great time doing so. We weren’t seriously impaired by any means -- simply jovial and ready to do “go.” As one critic wrote, “I’m happier for sure. But now I need something to ‘geek out’ over.”

For over two hours we rode enjoyed the strongest effects (with a long descent thereafter). And so began a mean bout of the munchies. Though the entire contents of our cabinets were vulnerable to the attack, anything sweet garnered a special appeal (those store-bought doughnuts didn’t stand a chance). With our hunger satisfied and work complete, we settled back for a long and fulfilling evening, somehow still light on our feet.