420 All Month: Black Maple

Black Maple is a complex and alluring cultivar. So many of the aspects of cannabis that are explored or at least mentioned in reviews and write-ups of individual strains defy easy categorization or description when it comes to Black Maple. But it is a worthy adversary in this regard, and while experiencing its sensory qualities and psychotropic effects will likely be very enjoyable whether you overthink it or not, I highly recommend trying to put your finger on the aroma, flavor, and highs, as it dances around within each.

Just to start with the lineage, we first see its parents of Dulce de Uva crossed with Sherbanger. I love and love to grumble at these lineages, where my first thought when I see them is: “Well, this is (almost) useless.” Okay, so I safely assumed that Sherbanger would be Sherbert and Headbanger, and indeed it was. But what the hell is Dulce de Uva? I can’t even pretend to lie to myself about a conjecture on what this strain might be. Sweet something? Is it another ice cream/sherbet/gelato-related strain, maybe? That’s the best I could guess, and I just knew in my heart that I wasn’t going to be right about that. Of course, I also don’t speak Spanish, so any of you who do will have already probably figured out more than I did. “Dulce de uva” translates to “grape candy” which gets us part of the way there. Dulce de Uva’s parents are Grape Pie and OG Kush. So Black Maple’s grandparents are all generally well-known strains, and in fact include some bangers (pun initially not intended, but I saw it while editing and I’m keeping it).

On to the flower itself. This bud hardly looks green. Without really good and direct lighting, it almost could be mistaken for bud that has seen a little too much daylight. But upon closer inspection, the undertones that are present are that kind of piney green that gives way to rich umber beneath. This is all further muddied by massive clusters of rusty orange-brown pistils. In my Violet Vixen review I said that the pistils “largely obscured” the greens, and as much as I stand by my words, I should have been thinking ahead to this strain, because the pistils of Black Maple take it further. This is also a strain that has been cured perfectly. It has the appearance of dense nug, but gives way under the fingers in an almost delicate way. I had no need for a grinder when packing my bubbler with Black Maple, and while the trichomes stuck to my fingers, they also brushed off into the bowl easily.

The aroma of Black Maple also begs further inspection. Each time I’ve put my nose to it, I feel like I’m chasing a detail in a dream, or an itch under the skin of my heel: I know it’s there, I have a very strong sense of the thing, but as soon as I think I’ve got it, it has already moved. My notes for Black Maple from the prescribed list of aromas and flavors I use for tracking strains I intend to review include diesel (light), fruit (light), pungent (light), sweet (moderate), and tea (light). But I also recall removing gas (light), musk (light), bitter (light), and coffee (moderate). It’s one of those strains that the longer I keep my nose buried in the jar, trying to capture what it smells like, and if there could possibly be a poetic or prosaic scene I could paint to sum it all up, the less it smells like cannabis and instead becomes this Pablo Picasso-esque patchwork of competing aromas. It’s fascinating, and really quite nice.

The smoke of Black Maple is intriguing as well. From a water bubbler – so slightly filtered, but how I smoke almost all of my flower nowadays – the smoke had almost no flavor or substance while being inhaled, but instead I got all of it on the way out. Smooth hits, but slightly harder exhales. The smoke leaving the lungs was a bit harsh, but still very light overall. The flavor still defied having a completely unified theme, but I felt I was chasing fewer individual descriptors. It starts with slightly bitter notes of caramel and gas, almost like a flavor and aroma combination of just barely burning caramel on the stovetop of a gas range. The gassiness isn’t even truly like gasoline or diesel, it’s more like the implication of there being a more tangible gaseousness to the air around you (I know, air is by definition gaseous, so I beg your indulgence on this one). But there is a lingering aftertaste completely separate from the burned caramel, a peppery pungence that lingers long after the bittersweet butter tones evaporate. It’s not unpleasant, but it contrasts very sharply with the other flavors.

The high is also all over the place, as a potent hybrid frequently can be. I simultaneously feel classically stoned, but also deeply thoughtful and reflective. I wanted to immediately write about it, but I also desperately wanted to relax and just let my mind wander. This is the first strain for which I’ve checked the “Heavily” box under “Balanced” in my review notes. And to go a step further – to balance-ception this thing – the balance is also between feeling an overall balance in the head and body highs, and shifting between feeling one or another more strongly. It reminds me of a tightrope walker: as they walk along the rope they are balanced, but as they drop onto it from standing, bounce up from it, tumble, twist, and so forth, each individual move may not itself seem like it is balanced, but when taken all together, the tightrope walker maintains balance throughout. Such is the high of Black Maple.