In Between Seasons
Warning: Please do not attempt to perform any of the stunts or performances outlined in this snipet. As they are dangerous and could lead to serious injury.
What can we tell you about going to work on a weed farm that The Grower, The Trimmers and The Landowner won’t kill us for? Soft criminals are especially tense about getting put in cages with other men …
It wasn't the first time to a farm - and we always say it will be the last - but never is. A few weeks on the farm can fund a trip around Asia, our adventures with Heir and/or an entire ski season of rent; making it hard to give it a hard no. So, with a handful of experiences combined, we can share its’ nuances and a summative experience. It is a scene - a microcosm of culture and community. Trim scenes are fascinating and deserve their own colorful, full length, coffee table book (coming in 2020).
Put 5, 6, 10, 15 strangers in a room together, around a small table to trim pounds of pot every day for a month. Weird shit happens. Because everything is paid in cash money, work permits are not necessary, and really anyone is qualified to do the job. Trim season in Northern California and Oregon, bring together an enormous range of people. Come September "The Valley" is littered with trimmers from all walks of life. Hippies, students, foreigners, moms, vagabonds, grandmas, circus performers, teachers, engineers, chefs or the many "I-just-graduated-college-now-what's?"
If the production of weed were legal, trimming weed in Humboldt would be a lot like the seasonal job of stomping wine in France. It is not legal, so trimming weed in Humboldt is more like cooking meth in Kentucky. Though this parody is quickly changing, the legality of weed is still gray enough (especially under this administration) that there is always a job to be found and a veil of paranoia to enter in "The Valley".
Common camp themes include lesbian relationships, veganism, dog fights, hippie stench, monogam-ish couplings and exploring personal limits. The only accepted topics of conversations at camp are “what’s your sign?”, what you’re allergic to or what dream you had last night. Please follow the rules.
My first time to camp was a scene out of Tropic Thunder - exactly what your concerned grandma is imagining when you tell her you are going to trim weed on a farm. There was a locked gate at the end of a winding road in the middle of NOWHERE America. There was a tent city, pitbulls, machetes, ex military guards, rioting natives near by, gun shots, spaghetti and beans over an open fire, rain, moss, cougars and of course - A TON of weed.
While my most recent trip to camp was a a quaint victorian home run by a preschool teacher filled with gals making turmeric lattes who were just trying to make money to get back to Maui. Mahalo.
Though it will drain you mentally - trimming for a season will fill you up with alone time, a cultural education, stories for back home and all that cash money! It is one of the many ways we fuel this vintage love affair.
For more stories or personal accounts to make your side split, please contact the founders of Heir Vintage. Camp stories are a plenty.