Back To My Roots

GanjaGuru

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I mentioned in an earlier post that last week I was asked by a disabled med-mj patient if I would be his medicine provider. His former supplier married and moved out of state. I agreed.
I'm legally permitted by the state of Calif. and my county to grow pot for other prescripted patients, and I have room here on my prop. to grow the 7 plants he wants, in addition to the ones I'm already growing.
But lately I've become soo complacent about growing legally. Booorrriiing.
Back in the good old days ('67--'99) I was a guerilla grower in the woods in SoCal.
It meant parking in different places (cars parked in the same turnouts a couple of times a week for months attract attention), going in at dawn/dusk (especialy when carrying containers and plants), sneaking aound, crouching down if I heard voices, wading streams to avoid leaving a trail, stuff like that.
For instance, I would wear hiking boots for the fire road hike into the area, but once in the canyon I had an old pair of tennis shoes stashed. When I got down near the stream I'd change into the tennie's which meant I wouldn't ruin my boots when wading and also I left less of a track. And it also made it look like the person wearing the boots had just walked down to the stream then turned around and walked out.
Most of my trips included boulder-hopping, and I carried a whisk broom to sweep away sand left behind by my shoe's.
But nowadays, growing legally in my back yard, I mosey on out to tend my plants whenever.
Could be high noon; doesn't matter.

But I found myself longing for the 'outlaw' type of growing that I used to do all those years.
So I chose a location in the Nat'l Forest a short drive and short hike away. A totally illegal grow (cause it's on National Forest prop.).

Now on my guerilla garden tending days I'm up at dawn, and once again I'm a peepin' and a hidin'. Sneaking around, walking silently, senses alert for anything out of the ordinary, checking out stragically placed twigs to see if any are broken. I've even strung some 2-pound test fishing line at ankle-level in the area, so if someone has been there I'll know how they got in and out.
Old habits die hard I guess. Last fall I went out at night to harvest a couple of plants in my garden, 'cause that's what I used to have to do, harvest under cover of darkness. I could of just as easily harvested them in broad daylight, but it's not as fun.

Maybe it's just my outlaw nature, but I'm jazzed with my new illegal grow.
 

Biffdoggie

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You can take the outlaw out of the guerilla growing but you can't take the guerilla growing out of the outlaw!
 

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