Birth of Two Cannabis Farmers

After six years of hitchhiking around the USA we finally made it out to Oregon in August of 2010. In a small black truck loaded down with our belongings, a bed and our 2 big dogs, my partner and I headed out to the land of green lush forests and cannabis farms. This wasn't our first rodeo, we had moved to many new places not knowing anyone or anything of the place we were going. We were confident this would be just as easy. Little did we know we would spend almost six months living out of the back of our truck. Living in the forests and long term camping on public lands while we searched for our place in this elusive state.

With the knowledge and forethought of timing our arrival with the timing of the cannabis harvest we started looking for work on farms. With the intention of learning, working and building relationships we searched craigslist for job adds and flew signs saying "looking for work." A month later we secured a short term job with a man named Richard. A small statured man with grey hair and a soft voice. His home was over run with painting supplies and boxes stacked everywhere. We were tasked with trimming cannabis that he had grown. In his living room, posted up on his couches we trimmed small leaves from buds, manicuring the tiny, fragile, fragrant little jewels. We talked to Richard about his life, his farm and the area we were in. He told us stories of earlier times when hippies of the 60s first came to the area to grow cannabis. An area that was mostly inhabited by loggers and their families. He told us how the two groups clashed for years and how they continue to clash to this day. We asked Richard if he knew why we were having so much trouble getting work in the area and he told us, "Last week in a trim circle someone had seen you guys on the side of the road and thought you could be cops." We laughed, looking at ourselves wondering how in the world we portrayed that image, dirty faced in a 1980s truck that we were obviously living out of. I don't know any cop who would be willing to do that.

A few weeks later while sitting outside a coffee shop we were approached by a small man with a long beard named Captain. He was willing to give us some work on his farm just a few miles up the road. His home was surrounded by giant sugar pines and cedar trees. This was the first day we stepped foot inside a cannabis garden. It was located about 200 yards behind his home and protected by his great pyrenes. We walked through the gate and with our hands clasped behind our backs we smelled the fresh fruit jewels, basked in the green foliage and asked question after question until Captain was surely wishing he had not taken us on a tour. We worked for weeks in his living room trimming for 14 hours a day getting faster and faster with each passing hour. Conversation was abundant but became more and more awkward. We were starting to realize Captain thought he was possibly going bed one of us and had not gathered that these two women sitting in his living room were actually a couple. We decided it was time for us to move on. We asked for our pay and he was reluctant. We had trimmed about 25 pounds with the agreement of making $150 per pound. He claimed he didn't have the money, so we asked for product instead. He refused and we left with our tails between our legs and no pay. Feeling completely defeated.

We knew we would have to go about this a different way if we wanted to be successful so we dug through our contacts looking for someone who may know someone we could work with. Finally we were connected with a young pregnant couple looking for help trimming their harvest and helping around the house to take the strain off the expecting mother. The home was small but the couple was welcoming. We came to an agreement on pay and after learning what we learned with Captain we were much more diligent about being paid regularly. We spent our free time reading "how to grow" books and talking to the couple about their methods of growing. After the job was over we headed back out to public lands, campfires and cold mornings.

With winter closing in on us we started looking for rentals with the opportunity to have a small garden. We filled out applications daily, paying the $50 fee, and watching our savings dwindle quickly with no return calls. Christmas was right around the corner and the promise of a home and a garden for the coming summer season was slipping away from us. Then by an act of god we get a phone call. The pregnant couple was moving back east to be closer to family and they wanted to introduce us to their landlord! We knew this was going to be our last shot as our savings was almost non-existent. We had a successful meeting with the landlord and got into the house the day before Christmas.

At this point with not much money left we started piecing together the garden the best we could. The previous growers left behind a mess but they also left behind many useful things. Tents full of moldy clothes and bedding. Garbage strewn out across the entire property, piss bottles and buckets of human feces. We found old plywood and built 12 5x5 foot boxes. We found a pile of good soil that was dumped in the woods behind the house, left behind by a former tenant. We found water pipe I was able to piece together to run water from the house to the garden. I scoured the internet for free aged animal manure to amend the soil and a horse farm nearby was willing to give us some. Horse manure is not a prime choice since grass seed does not break down in a horses' stomach, but we had little options and free is what we needed. We worked in trade of twelve small plants and placed those beautiful ladies in the soil on June 1st. We had done it! What seemed impossible was actually coming together.

Daily garden time was peaceful. We played music for our ladies every day. We spent hours watering, pruning and we were loving every minute of it. By August they started to produce small white haired buds that seemed to swell right before your eyes. We knew it was time to give these ladies some branch support so we took to the forest to find long skinny branches to poke into the soil. Aided by a big roll of twine we created a system that we were confident would hold the weight of the now very heavy buds.

Cannabis flowers are very prone to mold. All it takes is one good wetting rain and a few 75 degree days and you can loose your entire crop. One of the great things about our area is we don't get rain in the summer which allows buds to get large and not mold, but rain does come every fall. It is a dreaded time for cannabis farmers. Our first dreaded rainfall of the season came at 3am. I awoke to the sound of rain and ran out to the garden with a lump in my throat. There were branches broken everywhere. All our hard work was laying on the ground and if I could have grown to the size of a giant to cover them from the rain I would have. It was coming down hard and we knew harvesting was the only option. Our make shift support system had failed. We had failed to account for the weight added by the rain soaking the buds. It took us until noon the next day to harvest and hang all of the precious buds to dry.

Our season was wrapped up like a present with a bow on it and we had succeeded! We learned so many things and knew season 2 would be so much better but much more interesting....