2017 Garberville, Redwoods and Hash

Despite the glamor and glitter that surrounds the lifestyle of people living in the Redwoods in Northern California, there lays the existance of truly humble human beings who arrogantly drink on the road all day long, shoot guns on the property they manage and high tail any tourist or intruder walking through there out of town, taking over the duties of the local redneck crews who can sometimes savagely run hippies out of town, here and there, especially out in Garberville and southern HUmboldt. A few years ago, I ventured up north of San Francisco for the summer, taking the bus out of Santa Rosa and heading towards Willits, going out to Northern Mendocino county and hitch hiking my way through a trailer park with a nice lady there, who kept me company, topless; after a spring full of partying somewhat heavily and mediocrely on Haight Street in San Fran, I climbed on foot trying to get a ride for several miles and wound up getting to the Eel River, summer 2013, to hang out outside of town for the thrill of it, washing dishes, cooking, and messing around, writing an expose on the 'Homeless Youth and Young People, of Southern Humboldt'. I was going to the Art Academy in San Fran, and for the summer, I worked and got hit on by tons of open minded girls, but man, the drama that went along with it, and drinking every night at the local saloon, earning my way making paper for doing weed leaf and trim jobs and making sure I got paid well, besides some of the torment that went along with pounding out the fear and cross-mindedness of outsiders trying to appeal to me for work, I was just picking up jobs and handing away free weed out in the streets every day, coupled with the local habit of daring locals snuffing of arrogant loudmouths and homeless, who in turn got physically sent back and around after tussling and others in turn tossing them again;was a lot to conquer as a daily dynamic, me camping and sleeping 80% of the time in a Motel; but smoking marijuana for my glaucoma and my nerves, crashing with tons of open minded and sexy gals, playing hard, getting drunk out in the woods, it was all fun and good. Even the volunteer pass at the Reggae Festival that summer, I made it a priority to sell out the local drug dealer who planted a fresh batch of hash in my bag and wanted me to risk selling it, I instead had everyone line up and gave away the half pound of hash in little balls I made, and my only job all weekend was to clean up after Julian Marley's rehearsal, I crashed around all weekend smoking hash (that I supplied, and gave away free to hundreds of people, legal as a medical patient to another medical patient in California during 2013), and having somewhat fun; I took footage, held interviews and hey, at the last minute, I stuck around town, and got to play with several plants and pay back debts and keep a few of those pounds I helped harvest, before hiking south for the winter and punking out, citing shots for my expose on the Planet Venus, which I never finished, but started none the less down at Big Sur. But this time, 2017, was only a solidification, of why knowing why people for almost a century have hiked into Garberville and made their way sleeping in motel rooms and trying to make it working in town, only to realize that marijuana became the second full time job, in some respects on a part time basis, and it helped with the income of others, especially those who smoked it medically or medicinally, as many outdoor growers once called it, before the new government vocabulary revolving around the privateering or privatization of industrial marijuana termed it 'medical'; So, I even got footage of the trees in my motel room, where I used to crash at the Lone Pine and at the Johnson's Inn, where people would get beat up most of the time in the coffee barn outside, after dark and a few drug dealers were beat in for little reason but for being arrogant rich drug dealers who couldn't take a punch before shipping a bunch of stuff off to Connecticut again to their rich parents who helped finance their hash selling and dealing mail order operation, as of one night; they woke up from one punch in the face, by some local, in a pool of blood. So happens, the dealer was angry I gave away most of their homemade hash after they planted it into my bag and begged me to take it and I refused and found it in my bag at the festival that summer; then they were pissed I gave it all away, and to them I specifically, I owed them a pound of Cookies, and upon request I had to give them a full pound of Purple Cookies for sale price $358 for the pound, and a week on their floor in the motel, until I received the pay. But, hey, this wasn't 2013 anymore,and there was no art school and no scholarship and no documentary. I earned a scholarship off of that Documenatary by putting it on my youtube channel, Dane Light on YOutube. But this time around, hey, the actor did not get punched in the face, I camped on this guy's land and he lived in his truck, I slept for a week beneath the stars and lamped out in the forest on a cot, an army cot, and we shot guns and cans and motor oil and propane tanks with his choice and lovely collection of ammunition. I thought it was great. I paid for the fuel and we took a bunch of his leaf he was going to drop onto me, and fumed our way into some hommade wax, instead, and it produced about a quarter to ten grams of oil, using a simple method of a plastic cylindar and a top with a torch infusion, a bunch of holes burned into the bottom of the cylander and a plastic net taped across the bottom with water proof or electrical tape. The idea is to catch all of the wax at the bottom and let it sit in the 110 degree sun in order to dry out. It dried in about a day and a half. I picked up a bunch of outdoor seeded on donation and drank a few beers with my home boy and he is down and out and lives in the gutter, so I also had wound up on the Avenue of the Giants. I went up to Arcata, visited little businesses, and slept basically dirty like the hippie homeless for four nights and a weekend, getting free lunch and earning volunteer opportunities while checking out on the marijuana industry scene from within the bushes of the place. I currently am staying in Los Angeles, on the East side, in a nice place. So, for several days I checked out the scene, but there was little. there is one collective open in Arcata, Ca, a town ten miles north of Eureka, formerly known for its Nor Cal Indoor grow scene, as Norcal is notorious for its spring and summer outdoor harvests, and was pioneer in Green House and Winter Cultivation early on, before the movements took over by storm in neighboring western to mid western states. Most of the industrial plants that will supposedly sponsor legalization in empty warehouses and factories in Arcata, will not be open for initial operations until it looks like early February, at the earliest, and locals from Southern Humboldt who ventured North to Arcata, hoping to get off their feet with jobs from plants there, wound up crashing in the streets and living in the park, doing tweek. Most of the kids out there are either smoking and selling leaf and pot leaf in the park or they are strung out walking the streets near the new Community Center looking for snuff, H, or Meth. They are all sold by Tweekers now, and they dare to claim brotherhood with a biker's club, while selling smack to kids on a playground, fighting over dogs and screaming threats for an angry dog? Arcata has lots of fog, and people there are mellowing out in some respects in regards to the marijuana scene. Outside a Vintage Hospice store, a transvestite heckled at my smoking a leaf joing, complaining of the smell and holding their nose, after I asked her or him for use of the bathroom while I waited for the bus and complained that I was sick, the bus was taking me back to the Redwoods, and then I would meet buds and make wax. smoke buds instead of leaf, smoke cans I was drinking,hopefully, then catch some sort of ride through Big Foot's territory and I went around and attempted to smoke at the Reggae festival but only staff walked around and there were cops everywhere, so I sold no weed, again, I always keep it for stashes and the head, but have you ever given the stuff out for free? #dunknoen #damianlight #redwoodoriginals #garberville #southernhumboldt #reviews #wild #ganja #outdoor #greenhouse #depo #lighting #damianlight #emceeunknoen #dunknown #emceedunknoen #damianforestlight #docs #documentaries #write #author #works