Marijuana Strain Review: Headband from the Denver Kush Club

I’m a person who doesn’t carry a lot of cash, because having it enables my weak-minded impulsiveness. I've usually got enough money to cover my (bargain) meals, but I still often find myself cashless when driving toward a dispensary I’ve never visited before. I was worried that I was about to encounter the same problem as I headed toward the Denver Kush Club, at 2615 Welton Street — but luckily for me, Wells Fargo has a branch right across the street. Another win for the George Costanza of avoiding ATM fees.

The counter guy at Denver Kush Club buzzed me and four other customers in at once, leaving the lone budtender to handle a pothead stampede and two earlier patrons all by himself. After waiting my turn (and fending off a woman hell-bent on getting her two pre-rolls first despite being last in line), I checked out the shop’s three tiers of flower. My choice came down to a frosty cut of White Rhino and the middle-tiered Headband, which smelled a little funkier than what I remembered about that strain. But the guy behind the counter insisted that the Headband brought his stress down without lulling him to sleep, and that was exactly what I needed. A gram of the classic strain was $15.75 after tax.

When a strain has parents like OG Kush and Sour Diesel, it’s almost impossible for it not to smell and taste delicious. Headband’s creamy mixture of jet fuel, soil and citrus creates an intoxicating aroma that makes it a favorite among the stressed-out and lonely. Its sativa effects are known to hit first, with a calming wave of warmth washing over your body shortly thereafter.

DKC’s take on the bud initially smelled dry and grassy, though a few pinches released creamy, sour notes similar to those of buttermilk. It was also hard not to notice golden and tan hues of possible nutrient burn on some calyxes and remaining leaves. Still, a joint would be the ultimate tell-all on the quality.

My first few puffs tasted a little grassy and salty, playing into my fears of nutrient burn or poor flushing. But the problem could have been the paper, because a grapefruit-like tartness with a spicy aftertaste soon took over. The last half of the joint started to get a little harsh, so I put it out and went for a walk. A half-hour of daydreaming and Pandora Hip Hop BBQ later, I realized just how high I was. The sativa zone-out led me three times farther than I had intended to go before the OG Kush relaxation took hold, and the thirty minutes it took to walk back felt like ninety.

Despite potential overkill on the nutrients and being a little dry for my taste, the Denver Kush Club’s Headband delivered a hybrid high that shot me up and brought me down like a reality-TV star’s career. And just like one of those Jersey Shore d-bags, I don’t remember most of it.

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