You Can’t Fake Time: 40 Years of Cultivation, Genetics & the Preservation of Legacy Cannabis
I started growing cannabis around 1985, when I was about 12 years old in the South Bronx.
Back then, there were no cultivation facilities, social media pages, LED grow-light companies, or online seed drops. There wasn’t a cannabis industry waiting to teach you how to grow.
You learned from people. You learned from mistakes. And most importantly, you learned from the plant.
Forty years later, cannabis has become a multibillion-dollar legal industry. The equipment is better. The technology is better. The amount of information available to growers is unbelievable compared with what we had.
But there is one thing technology cannot manufacture:
Time.
And when it comes to genetics, time matters.
Before Cannabis Became an Industry
I came up in New York City cannabis culture.
My roots run through the South Bronx and Washington Heights, and my cultivation journey eventually took me far beyond New York. I was fortunate enough to experience Amsterdam during an era when genetics were being collected, exchanged and preserved in ways that would influence cannabis around the world.
Those experiences shaped the way I look at genetics today.
For me, keeping a plant was never about whether it was getting attention online.
It was about the plant proving that it deserved to stay.
I kept my original NYC Sour Diesel mother for approximately 14 years. When I eventually relocated from New York to Oregon, that plant came with me.
Think about what that means.
Fourteen years of keeping a living mother alive.
Through different rooms. Different equipment. Different circumstances. Different chapters of life.
Why?
Because when something is truly special, you don’t replace it simply because something newer comes along.
You preserve it.
Genetics Are More Than a Name
Today, the word genetics gets used very loosely.
Cross two popular cultivars, give the offspring a catchy name, put it in an expensive package, and suddenly it’s marketed as the next elite genetic.
I come from a different philosophy.
I don’t believe breeding is simply putting pollen on a plant.
A serious genetic project requires selection, observation, testing, stability and time. I want to know what a plant does beyond looking beautiful in one photograph.
How does she grow?
How does she respond under pressure?
What’s her structure?
What’s the nose?
What’s the flavor?
What does she yield?
How does the resin perform?
What traits does she pass to the next generation?
And can I see those qualities again consistently?
That’s why some of my genetic work can take two years or more before I’m comfortable putting my name behind it.
I’m not chasing a release calendar.
I’m chasing something worth preserving.
New York Has a Genetic History Worth Protecting
People talk about legacy cannabis all the time now, but legacy isn’t a marketing category to me.
It’s history.
New York had its own cannabis identity long before legalization. New York City Sour Diesel is part of that history. So are the Haze lines that became deeply connected to uptown New York culture, including my Black Cuban Haze aka “La Negra” expressions many of us remember.
These weren’t plants people discovered from a menu.
They were passed through relationships and communities.
If you knew, you knew.
That scarcity was part of what made certain cuts legendary, but it also created a problem: genetics can disappear.
A mother gets lost. A grow shuts down. Someone stops cultivating. A mislabeled cut gets passed around. Years later, ten different people are selling something under the same famous name.
The name survives.
The genetics don’t always survive with it.
That’s one of the reasons preservation has become increasingly important to me.
Old School Doesn’t Mean Anti-Technology
I consider myself a legacy cultivator, but that doesn’t mean I believe we should grow like it’s still 1985.
Quite the opposite.
I’ve watched this industry move through multiple generations of cultivation technology. Today I work with modern environmental controls, LED lighting, crop steering, data collection, irrigation technology and systems such as Growlink. I’ve also had the opportunity to work alongside companies such as Athena and operate within commercial cultivation environments.
I believe the strongest cultivation programs combine legacy knowledge with modern precision.
Technology can tell me what’s happening in a room.
Sensors can give me data.
Automation can make a facility more consistent.
But technology still needs someone who understands what the plant is telling them.
A dashboard doesn’t replace experience.
The best growers use both.
From a New York Grow Room to Commercial Cultivation
If you had told that 12-year-old kid in the Bronx that cannabis would eventually become a regulated industry with licensed facilities, GMP standards, sophisticated fertigation systems, environmental automation and cultivation operations worth millions of dollars. I probably wouldn’t have believed you.
Yet here we are.
My journey eventually took me from New York to Oregon, into commercial cultivation, genetics work and consulting. Through 5 Points Farms and Sharkbite Cutz Exotic Genetics, I’ve continued working with plants while adapting what I learned over decades to modern production environments.
I’ve seen cannabis underground.
I’ve seen medical cannabis.
I’ve seen recreational legalization.
And now I’m watching cannabis move toward pharmaceutical and internationally regulated production.
The industry keeps changing.
The plant doesn’t care.
What 40 Years Taught Me
After four decades, I don’t pretend to know everything about cannabis.
Anybody who tells you they’ve completely figured this plant out probably hasn’t spent enough time with it.
Cannabis will humble you.
But there are a few things I believe strongly.
Don’t confuse hype with quality. Don’t confuse a famous name with authentic genetics. Don’t rush selection because you want something to sell. Document your work. Protect exceptional plants. Learn the history behind the genetics you’re working with. And give the plant enough time to show you what it really is.
Most importantly, respect the people who kept these genetics alive when there was no legal industry and no financial reward for being called a “legacy cultivator.”
For many of us, there was considerably more risk than reward.
The Next Chapter
At this stage of my life, I’m interested in more than creating another strain.
I’m interested in preservation.
I’m interested in taking important legacy genetics and evaluating them with the tools we have available today ,including serious pheno hunting, resin evaluation, wash testing and documented breeding programs.
I’m also interested in helping the next generation understand where some of this material actually came from.
Because cannabis is moving incredibly fast.
Companies will come and go. Brands will come and go. Trends definitely will come and go.
But exceptional genetics can outlive all of them, if somebody takes the responsibility to preserve them.
I’ve been moving with this plant since 1985.
I’m still learning.
I’m still hunting.
I’m still preserving.
And I’m definitely not finished.
Deep Waters for Life.
Steve “Mr. Shark” Baez
Sharkbite Cutz Exotic Genetics
Founder, 5 Points Farms
Legacy Cultivator & Geneticist — Est. 1985