CLOCKWISE FROM ABOVE The farming team at Race Brook Lodge — Ashley & Tagan, pictured with Casey Meade Rothstein-Fitzpatrick the inn’s keeper and manager of operations; path markers at the Race Brook Lodge; the fried chicken at Prairie Whale; A hammock for lounging at the Race Brook; Adam my partner in crime, driver, assistant and marijuana connoisseur; bubble tea shop Extra Special Teas on Elm Street;

BENEATH THE MAGNIFYING GLASS OF QUARANTINE, we’ve all come to witness a few things in sharp relief: the moral failings of our healthcare and justice systems, the blatant biases of those in positions of power, and the precarious nature of our own corporeal beings. An escape from the all-consuming nature of this global pandemic and social justice battle seems at once impossible and also entirely necessary if we’re going to emerge from this bubble mentally intact. My partner Adam and I have occupied our apartments, complete with roommates, consecutively for more or less 125 days.

So, when the opportunity to explore Great Barrington, Massachusetts— complete with its recreational weed dispensaries and abundance of nature trails— arose, we leapt at the chance to evade our increasingly claustrophobic living situations for the night and hit the road.

While driving, I started thinking about the Japanese idea of forest-bathing, Shinrin-Yoku, which is a means of reducing stress and reconnects one with nature. This concept only got to America a couple of years ago, millennials of all ages have used it to explain the sudden need to get back to the land. Still, it is not the only natural remedy readily available and widely known to relieve pain, reduce anxiety, lower blood pressure, and treat depression. But while forest-bathing is legal in all 50 states, smoking weed recreationally is not.

Sometimes, it seems the world is divided into people who believe smoking marijuana has positive health benefits and people who think it is one of the many evils responsible for the deterioration of the fabric of this country. In my experience, it’s a more welcome antidote to the dull ache of modern living than drinking ever was and far less detrimental to my body. I wondered what it would be like to walk into a shop and purchase a pre-rolled joint as though it were any cheap bottle of wine, just showing an ID and using a credit card. “I guess we’ll find out,” Adam said as we crossed the state line and rolled into Great Barrington.

While the dispensary was at the top of our list, we could only think of food when we got to town, neither of us having eaten anything all morning. We ate lunch at Shiro, the local Asian kitchen and market. An impressive young man who took our order laughed and said that they were out of all his favorite dishes, added up our tab on a calculator and went back to reading one of his two books at the counter after we were done.

I ate the salmon bento box, and Adam had the beef bulgogi — both were expertly prepared proteins on top of perfectly cooked rice. Afterward, we perused the local Goodwill, where I found a flat gold tray for $2 and then got lost in the labyrinth of sculpted buddhas across the street at AsiaBarong — a combination shop and extensive gallery of Asian artifacts from around the world. Adam held up a dozen different objects, but we couldn’t commit to any. I couldn’t justify spending my unemployment on another idol for my shrine.

When we were finally done exploring and fueled up on good food, we headed over to Theory Wellness to see what legally procuring bud was all about. While the secretive tactics of obtaining weed have relaxed in the last ten years, it remains a topic that’s uncomfortable to discuss around family members and taboo amongst the general public. But the illicit nature that typically surrounds purchasing drugs was not there. The dispensary was in a big white building with modern letters, flanked by pop-up tents with helpful staff members waiting to point you in the right direction — a whole pandemic-abiding system of operations in full motion. We couldn’t go inside and felt a little silly because we tried. But everyone was so pleasant, even the guy at the door explaining to us how to place the order online for pickup wasn’t bothered by our rookie mistake. It was truly surreal to obtain marijuana without the threat of penalty and most likely increased the efficacy of our herbal remedy.

With our goods in tow, we headed over to the Race Brook Lodge, which had just recently reopened their doors to visitors after months of being shut down for quarantine. They had already impressively implemented a contact-free check-in system. The grounds were sprawling and naturally suited for exploring — complete with a barn, pool, and even a tiny cedar sauna. As far as forest-bathing was concerned, the opportunities were everywhere. The lodge sits at the foot of Mount Race, just beneath the Appalachian Trail, and they’re currently building several outdoor structures to accommodate more variations of outdoor lounging.

After dropping our things off in the room, I ran back outside to chase a slice of sunlight with my camera, and Adam followed, closing the door behind him and immediately locking us out — phoneless and shoeless. This was how I met Casey, the lodge’s current manager of operations who genially welcomed us, gave us another key, and told us about the hiking trails just beyond the brook that we could follow to a waterfall in about thirty minutes.

It seemed like the perfect opportunity to test out that medical-grade goodness that people in California are always talking about. We grabbed my cameras and our Theory Wellness wares and headed into the woods where we walked for a half-hour through the old-growth pines before sighting the waterfall from afar, lighting the pre-rolled joint and meandering back in a pleasant haze.