Jack Herer doesn’t play by regular weed rules, not really. You think it’s ready and boom—nah, give it another week. Then maybe one more. She’s a flirt. Usually hits full bloom anywhere between 8 to 10 weeks indoors, which is standardish, but with Jack, nothing feels standard. Some phenos drag her heels. You’ll stare at your lupine buds like, “Come on, lady, throw the final frost already,” and she’s just... basking in herself, drinking light. Outdoors, it's trickier. Mid-late October sometimes, or later if the weather’s been weird, which it always is now. I grew one in a backyard once in Oregon—thought she was done at nine weeks, she put on another fattening half inch in ten days. I mean, what?

The thing with Jack is she’s got that Haze all up in her DNA, and if you’ve ever grown Haze, you know—patience or bust. She’s not couch weed. She’s not bud-for-bud’s-sake. She’s complex, like an ex you still think about, not because it ended well, but because it meant something. You wait for her flowering time not just because you *have* to, but because you’re caught in the damned romance of it. And when it pays off, holy hell—those trichomes look like someone sugared every inch of green glass. Smells wild, too. Like pine funk and orange zest and the sharp memory of something herbal your grandma used to grow.

If you’re hunting hardcore genetics or just want to snag some dope seeds that won’t give you basic fluff, this place might be a solid starting line: https://jackhererseedsbank.com . I say “starting line” because with Jack, the growing part feels like a race you’re running barefoot—with wine in your hand. Fun, messy, longer than you think. Keep watching those pistils. Keep smelling her. Time her by instinct and hope, because on week seven she might already look ready if you squint. Don’t be fooled. Trickster energy.

Truth is, I’ve seen Jack finish at 56 days. I’ve seen her take 75. Some growers chop early cause she’s already potent enough—but why cheat yourself? Wait till she really ripens, watch the glands swell like they’re about to burst, and then…then maybe. Maybe then. Maybe never. But you’ll know. Or convince yourself you know.

Weed like this? It isn’t a checklist. It’s a thing you meet in bloom.