Medical Marijuana, After A Modest Start, Is On The Way To Becoming Big Business

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Back in the day, cops knew James Bowman as "Hippie Jim." With his beard and long ponytail, the moniker fit the small-town counterculture outlaw who grew his own weed deep within southern Oregon's national forests.

Nearly 20 years later, Bowman still has the beard. Crow's-feet bunch around his eyes from long days in the sun. But at 52, he's less a hippie and more a savvy entrepreneur, the CEO behind The High Hopes Farm, a sophisticated marijuana enterprise. This year the farm will produce hundreds of pounds of premium pot for an estimated 200 Oregon medical marijuana patients.

Bowman, who once did a three-year stint in federal prison for his role in a marijuana growing ring, is among thousands of pot growers operating openly under the state's medical marijuana law. An analysis of Oregon Medical Marijuana Program data by The Oregonian shows Bowman produces pot for more medical marijuana patients than any other grower in Oregon.

This year he plans to cultivate about 400 plants, each producing an estimated 3 pounds of marijuana. That translates into 1,200 pounds of pot, more than a half-ton, with a black market value of more than $1 million.

And he's no longer an outlaw.


Large-scale marijuana growing operations such as Bowman's illustrate how much has changed since 1998, when Oregonians approved marijuana for medicinal use. The program was pitched to voters as a modest one, drawing about 500 new sick people each year. Today, Oregon is home to 35,500 marijuana grow sites producing marijuana for nearly 55,000 medical marijuana patients.

Most are small-scale gardens. But the newspaper's analysis of the state's medical marijuana grow site data shows Oregon is home to 123 sites growing for 11 patients or more. These large operations have the potential to churn out hundreds of pounds of marijuana worth $1,500 to $5,000 a pound on the street.

And yet the law makes no mention of marijuana farms such as Bowman's. Indeed, the state lacks provisions for inspecting marijuana grow sites of any size. Police need a grower's permission or a search warrant to get on the properties. State officials don't know whether growers use pesticides or herbicides. They don't know whether indoor grow sites, which rely on artificial lights to stimulate plant growth, are safely wired.

But perhaps most important, growers don't report what they're doing with their excess marijuana, the amount left after patients get what they need. Legally, they're not allowed to have excess pot, but many do. Some of it ends up in Oregon's medical marijuana dispensaries, themselves operating in a legal gray area. Much of the rest, police and prosecutors have told The Oregonian, ends up on the nationwide black market.

Jackson County Sheriff Mike Winters has seen Bowman's farm from the air. The pot operation covers nearly two football fields. The sheer size is a concern, Winters said.

"When you start operating like he is," Winters said, "it's going to draw the attention of folks."

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The entrance to High Hopes Farm is marked by Tibetan prayer flags at the end of a long dirt road. On a recent morning, a small band of excitable sheepdogs romped around Bowman, who wore dusty boots from his morning work.

In many ways, the farm looks like any other: greenhouses, farm equipment, people busily tending beds of organic vegetables. Turkeys and ducks wander around. Bowman pointed out his organic vegetable garden and the spot where he'll plant boysenberry and sea berry bushes.

But make no mistake: This place is about marijuana. Bowman will produce at least 30 strains this year. Large marijuana plants sit in planters in a covered shelter. A small trailer houses fresh marijuana clippings that are watered round-the-clock. More than a dozen clear bags hold processed dried marijuana buds destined for patients. The new marijuana strains Bowman is developing grow in another building.

One large nursery houses four rows of 16 plants. By harvest time, they'll grow so full that each row will resemble a seamless hedge. Dozens more will go into nearby fields and will grow 10 to 15 feet high.

On a hot spring morning, eight workers spent hours preparing soil, rototilling the land and digging knee-deep holes for each plant. They took frequent breaks to wipe their brows, guzzle water and reapply sunscreen. The driving beat of a Nine Inch Nails tune blasted from a nearby speaker, shattering the farm's usual quiet.

Each day about noon, workers wander a few feet to a trailer for lunch. One recent day, 16 workers descended on the trailer for a meal of roasted lamb, potatoes, carrots and salad, all prepared by Bowman.

He said everyone here has a state-issued medical marijuana card, designating them as a patient, caregiver or grower. Some have all three. Having a card allows them each to possess at least a pound and a half of pot at any time.

The farmhands' workday resembles that of many American workers: They clock in about 9 and knock off about 5. But unlike the average worker, they're not paid in cash. Oregon law allows marijuana growers to recoup from patients only the costs of utilities and supplies, not labor. So Bowman pays his workers in weed.

Last year, he doled out a total 250 pounds of pot to 68 workers as compensation. About 20 of those workers, including Bowman, are year-round.

"These people deserve to get paid," Bowman said. "We all deserve to get paid."

Bracken McKey, a senior deputy district attorney in Washington County who has prosecuted two medical marijuana dispensary owners in the past year, said the practice is illegal.

"Marijuana has a very specific, defined market value," he said. "Everybody understands what amounts of marijuana are worth. Everyone understands what a gram of marijuana is worth, and paying somebody in marijuana by the ounce is no different from paying them in cash."

Patrick Robinson moved to Oregon from Minnesota a couple of years ago so he could become a medical marijuana patient. He described himself as "an hourly user," and said he relies on medical marijuana to treat pain. The 44-year-old Grants Pass man figures he spends 20 to 30 hours a week on Bowman's farm doing everything from answering the phone to picking leaves off recently harvested plants.

Robinson goes through at least an ounce of pot a week.

"If I do enough work, I can get that," he said, taking a break to light up a small glass pipe of marijuana on Bowman's back porch. "It's the only way I can afford to get my medicine."

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Bowman has come a long way since the 1980s and 1990s, when he would trek into the southern Oregon wilderness to grow pot. The son of a school teacher and factory worker, he was raised in small-town Iowa, where he first smoked pot at 16. Captivated, he dreamed of someday heading to the West to grow his own. He eventually landed in southern Oregon's Illinois and Applegate valleys, drawn to the region's long association with marijuana.

"People come here because it's a sanctuary," he said of the area's history of marijuana cultivation. "Some people think that's a negative, but I think it's a beautiful thing."

Bowman is a self-taught expert on pot; he talks about soil mixes, nutrients, light cycles and the plants' genetic lines the same way a gardener might talk about prized roses. He reads the Farmers' Almanac for guidance on timing the planting of his crop. Each fall, he inspects his plants with a jeweler's microscope, looking for signs that the resin on the flowers has peaked and that the plants are ready for harvest.

Though the bud is coveted, resin, too, is valuable; it's harvested and turned into hashish, a concentrated and tetrahydrocannabinol (THC)-rich substance. THC is the psychoactive property of marijuana that gives users a high.

Martin Hensley, a 43-year-old Portland hair stylist who uses marijuana to treat the side effects of medication he takes to treat HIV, doesn't hesitate when asked about the quality of Bowman's marijuana:

"Supremo," said Hensley, who favors a strain called Matanuska Mist. "He is the Marlboro man of marijuana."

Bowman is determined to make his farm a legitimate enterprise. Lawmakers have toured the place. He's tried to reach Winters, the Jackson County sheriff, but was referred instead to the regional drug task force, which investigates drug crimes.

"Look," he recalls telling sheriff's officials, "I think you are mistaken. We are not doing anything illegal."

He added: "We don't have to be legally transparent. We are showing the process so we can show how it can be done correctly. It's a gamble on our part."

Bowman also collects detailed health information from each patient and solicits feedback about how well his pot works. This year he's produced a color catalog with photos of each plant, its dried buds and resin, as well as each strain's aroma and taste profile and common physical effects. THC levels are listed for each strain.

The catalog descriptions read like wine reviews. Take Goolden, a strain described as having "sugared apple and marigold fragrances." The strain, according to the catalog, is recommended for people with appetite and digestive problems and is "a local favorite on the farm."

This isn't your grandfather's pot. A couple of decades ago, marijuana had an average THC level of 3 percent, according to the Office of National Drug Control Policy.

Goolden, on the other hand, comes with a whopping 26.7 percent THC level, which explains the catalog's bold-faced warning: "Caution: high potency."

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Although Oregon is one of 17 states to legalize marijuana for medicinal use, the drug is banned under federal law. Across the country, federal law enforcement has cracked down on medical marijuana operations, including several southern Oregon medical marijuana producers.

After federal agents last fall swarmed five large medical marijuana grow sites in Jackson County, Bowman considered taking a break. But calls from patients kept rolling in. So he decided not only to continue, but to double his medical marijuana patients. He expects to grow pot for 200 patients this year. Bowman said he'll cultivate two mature plants per patient, one-third the number of mature plants he's allowed under state law. He hopes that's enough to keep him out of law enforcement's cross hairs.

It's a risky strategy.

"This is serious civil disobedience with the federal government," he said. "Don't get into this if you don't understand that."

A few times each summer and fall, an unmarked helicopter slices through the sky, circling Bowman's farm and drawing everyone's gaze skyward.

The message is clear: Police can't come onto the property without his consent or a warrant, but they're keeping an eye on him.

The fear of a raid is ever-present.

"You're thinking, 'They're here. This is the day,'" Bowman said. "Every day I have that fear. Every night I think, 'Well, tomorrow might be the day.' It's part of my daily ritual."

Last year, in addition to the pot he handed out to farmhands, Bowman estimates he gave away 400 pounds to the patients listed with his farm.

That left him about 260 pounds of excess marijuana.

Patients who want some of that overage have a choice. They can pay $40 an ounce, what Bowman calls a "mandatory" reimbursement, which covers his utilities and supplies. Or they can pay $150 an ounce, which Bowman says covers the true cost of the plant's production and includes Bowman's biggest expense, labor.

Bowman gave Hensley, the Portland medical marijuana patient, 3 pounds of marijuana for free last year. Hensley said he paid about $150 an ounce for whatever extra he needed.

"The fact that I get 3 pounds without having to pay for it helps me tremendously," Hensley said. "I don't mind paying that at all. It has to be grown, planted, harvested, cured. There are people who have to do that."

Bowman's quick to add that last year's revenue was plowed back into the marijuana operation. He said he hasn't taken a salary, though he hopes to this year. He bought his new Subaru on credit. He says he needs about $15,000 in dental work that he can't afford.

"I am poorer now than when I was actually poor," he said. "I didn't have all this overhead."

Bowman sees his farm as a model for medical marijuana cultivation. He'd like to see hundreds like it across Oregon.

"What in the world is it about growing cannabis," he said, "that prevents me from running it like a business, like everyone else?"

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News Hawk- TruthSeekr420 420 MAGAZINE
Source: oregonlive.com
Author: Npelle Crombie
Contact: Contact OregonLive.com or The Oregonian
Website: Medical marijuana, after a modest start, is on the way to becoming big business in Oregon | OregonLive.com
 
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