When I first tried smoking hemp, I felt as though I had let go of what didn’t matter and just enjoyed being alive in the here and now.
That’s also what it was like the first time I rode a motorcycle.
A Perfect Union
I never realized how closely related my needs to be both self-reliant and ok with life came together so easily between the cannabis culture and the biker culture until I took my first ride down the California coast on a Harley after leaving one of the largest pot farms in America, stoned off my ass.
It was a brisk morning, a clear sky and a chill came over me, not in the cold or fearful way, but in that tingly spiritual way that happens sometimes when you just know that this is right.
It was October and I had just visited some friends I hadn’t seen in a long time who built a compound in the woods with a very (and I mean VERY) large cannabis farm they had cultivated for about 10 years. It was scary because, at the time, marijuana wasn’t yet legal, and my buddies had some serious security — I’m talking about guns.
But they weren’t running around shooting them off. They were surprisingly responsible for being goofballs and stoners, and I had such a great time there I knew I had to come back soon.
Hemp Hemp Hooray!
When I found out that hemp was legalized federally in 2018 with the Farm Bill, I knew I wanted to go back and see my friends. This time, however, I was going to ask them about how they felt about the new law and how it affected their business.
Since they had never gone legal, they were still hiding out in the hills, but they were pulling off an interesting and bold move: they were growing hemp legally and hiding their marijuana crops among them.
Two of my buddies were old pals from a motorcycle club up north, and they had asked me if I wanted to test the difference between two strains of theirs. While we were smoking, I asked why they hadn’t tried to go legit with their marijuana strains.
“It’s the regulations. It just means that we can’t do what we’ve been doing in peace, someone’s gotta constantly check up on us, we have to pay a ton of money to the government in fees just to get started… it just adds up to overkill and not worth it in the end…”
At some point I stopped paying attention because the size of my shoes seemed to just keep getting bigger and bigger..
A Ride To Remember
When the smoke cleared and we had our talks, it was time to head home. But I wasn’t going alone. One friend had a girlfriend down in fresno and was meeting with some others from his club in San Fran, so we rode together.
I was so high, but I never felt so right. Here were two old pals of mine who managed to beat the odds and come out on top, but doing it their way instead of following the rules of a corrupt and bogus system. I felt at home, I felt alive.
And I can’t wait to go back.