During our sniff adventures for Denver's Dankest Street Corners, William Breathes and I stumbled across the Museum of Marijuana, which is really just a little house nearly lost to the office spaces and retail fronts along South Broadway. Neither of us had heard of this place before, and due to the importance of sniffing out the dankest corners, we didn't have time for a pit stop. I made it a point to return to the so-called museum last week, where I found that Breathes and I didn't miss much.
I looked up the museum online beforehand, but there was no clear page relating to the mysterious house at 1850 South Broadway. The only thing I could find about the place was a copyright patent for the Museum's logo. I took what little notes I had, packed the Sherlock pipe, and headed to Broadsterdam. Parking off Jewel and Broadway, I made my way through the flimsy, orange construction fences and torn-up street dust to the house.
Behind the street worn trees and shabby entry arch hung a green and brown sign reading "The Museum of Marijuana," accompanied by a reefer leaf shield worthy to be worn by King Ganja himself. I noticed the overflowing mailbox hanging next to the front door with this week's pizza ad dangling toward the dying scrubs along the house, but I rang the doorbell anyway. There was no sound of startled footsteps inside, and I questioned whether it worked at all. I pounded on the paint-chipped door a few times and even tried peeking through the broken blinds. Nothing.
I couldn't settle for this. I was sure there must be some huge shrine and ganja lesson inside that I had to experience. The banner was way too inviting and intriguing to only offer some discounted pizza coupons and broken hopes. I tried the doorbell again, pounded on the door a few more times, and even peeked through the busted blinds behind the empty planters.
After receiving some weird looks from the construction worker down the street, I walked around to the alley to see if there was a back entrance. Nothing but tattered lawn furniture and weeds (not the good kind) filled the backyard. Interestingly, I got a whiff of burning ganja, but I couldn't decide if it was coming from inside house or if it was the guys at the warehouse next door enjoying their break; either way, I cut my losses and headed over to a nearby graffiti wall to finish my Sherlock bowl and snap some pictures.
If you're looking to get schooled on cannabis history, you're probably better off checking out Wikipedia than heading to the Museum of Marijuana.
Sensi Skywalker is the pot pen name chosen by our medical marijuana
padawan college intern. You can read more of her reviews in our Mile Highs and Lows blog and keep up with all your marijuana news at The Latest Word.
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