I had 2 grows about a mile apart deep in the woods back when I used to guerilla grow. I went to tend the garden Sept. 1 and found one garden--the smallest one--got discovered and ripped off. I had 20 plants in the other garden. 6'--7' tall and bushy as hell. I knew that whoever found the first garden would be back to search for more stuff to steal fucking thief. I was determined that no one was gonna rip off that one. At the time I wa doing contract work and it wasn't hard to take a month off. So I go out with my trusty camping dog Buffalo (r.i.p.) and set up a tent & rock ring next to a stream just around the canyon from my plants. I left my fishing rod and .22 rifle leaning up against the trunk of the big oak tree the tent was pitched under. The fishing rod was my "cover". Just an innocent guy out camping/fishing. The .22 was there as a discouragement. There was no way I was gonna shoot anyone, but "they" didn't know that. I went in with enough supplies for a week, and I had arranged for a friend to pick me up once a week long enoung to go into town for supplies. Let me emphasize how remote this place was. It was a 3 mile walk down a sometimes steep dirt road, and then a rough 45 minute bushwhack hike up a stream that entailed numerous stream crossing in waist-deep water. Past a stand of stinging nettles and poison oak Less than a dozen people a year make it past all that. I arrived in the early afternoon and busied myself setting up camp. I catch a couple of 12" wild native rainbow trout and enjoy a nice dinner. It was dusk and I had just enjoyed a post-dinner joint when suddenly a rock hits my tent! I freaked. Buffalo is like an early warning system. He can hear and smell people better than he could yet he didn't show any signs of either. Then another rock hits the tent. Then another. WTF? to be continued...
eucalyptus branches falling on your tent? lol dude if there isnt a climax here you better make one up
I grabbed my binoc's out of my pack and scanned upstream and downstream, looking for any signs of people. Nothing. Then I was looking at the tent when the next rock hit the tent and the riddle was solved. Remember I said the tent was pitched under an oak tree? Oak tree's grow acorns. In the fall the acorns ripen and fall to the ground. They don't fall too much during the day but with the increased humidity at dusk the acorns absorb a bit of moisture and the heaviest ones fall. So it wasn't rocks at all; it was acorns. So I wasn't under attack. The falling acorns would keep me awake though, so I moved the tent out from underneath the tree and that was that.
I stayed out there for an entire month, going into town just once a week for supplies. About a week in, I saw who it probably was that ripped off the other garden--a group of 3 fishermen who looked very disaappinted to see me camped out. The reason I think it was them was because they all had frame packs on--which fishermen as a general rule don't carry--and I could tell the packs were empty. And because they were the only ones that came out there until-- October 1. I had just finished my morning cup of java when I noticed a spark on a rock about 20' away. A second later I heard the gun shot. It took me a second to realize what happened. Someone was shooting at me! Well, not at me. But at a rabbitt that had been hopping past that boulder. It was the first day of hunting season, something I had forgotten. A few minutes later the hunters appeared hiking upstream. They headed straight for my garden, well-hidden behind a stand of aspens. As calm as I could manage, I said "there's a whole bunch of rattlesnakes in the brush beyond those tree's." They stayed on the side of the stream I was on and continued upstream. Several other hunters also passed by that day. I had intended to stay another week until my plants were fully ripe, but i figured I'd better get out while the getting was good. Because if someone DID deciede to go that way, there was nothing I could do to stop them from ripping off my plants. I ceratinly didn't want to kill anyone; besides they traveled in 2's and had high-powered hunting rifles. So that night I stayed up all night. I cut the branches off my plants, field-stripped them, burned the branches in the rock ring, triple bagged them and stuffed them in my pack. I couldn't brinng out all my equip. AND the buds so I left most of my gear there, hoping if someone saw it they'd think I was just away for a few minutes. At dawn I hiked out and up to the road. Now I had a different problem. My ride wasn't due for another 2 days. So I stashed my back deep in the brush and hitchhiked/walked to the nearest phone (at a ranger station) about 10 miles away and called up a friend, who came out and picked me up. No rest for the wicked, the next morning I went back out there with a friend to pack all my stuff up (someone had stolen my lantern) and haul it out. And spent the next 2 weeks manicuring what ended up to be about 20 pounds dry of primo mountain grown, watered with pure mountain spring water bud.
