I first started cultivating cannabis back in January 1990, in a converted closet out on Hogback Road. I was attending Johnson State College, studying environmental sciences, and a friend gave me four 18-inch plants, which I grew under a converted street light with a 400-watt bulb.
Those four ladies were grown with love and care, enjoying constant 75-degree temps and a gentle electric fan breeze while winter raged six short inches of newspaper-insulated walls away.
I used to studying in this room, snow dumping outside, in shorts and sunglasses, my presence (and heavy breathing) increasing the CO2 levels for my plants. I also acquired a very nice grow room tan. Twelve weeks later, I harvested the best cannabis in the world!
In truth, the quality probably wasn’t all that great. Aside from a basic knowledge about growing plants, I didn’t really know what I was doing. I didn’t know about adjusting nutrient levels or proper pruning or flushing. I ended up harvesting the plants about a week past their prime because I didn’t know how to read the trichomes. But, it was cannabis that I grew, and so