When the 2018 Farm Bill passed, Max started to seriously explore the possibility of growing hemp on Tall Trees. He secured a license to participate in the state’s pilot year of agricultural hemp. With our farmer, Jim, on board, Max and Jane set out to grow a small one-acre test crop in the upcoming season. The plan was to start slowly, try out genetics and see how well the crop would grow on our land. Then the pandemic hit.

I got laid off from my digital marketing job with a major cannabis MSO and Max was furloughed shortly after. The economy shut down. Suddenly, the reality of being stuck in a city apartment with no job prospects on the horizon hit us. So, we packed up our apartment and got the hell outta dodge. Driving across the Great Plains felt bittersweet, but the excitement for what lay ahead was palpitating.

We beelined it to the farm, crushing the drive in just over 16 hours. As the Uhaul (towing our Subaru) slowly careened around dark country roads, we started waxing poetic about our vision for the farm, the business and for our life. It was a cold, rainy April night, when we pulled into the pitch-black, overgrown driveway marked with a worn, hand-carved sign.

Feeling a combination of relief to have arrived and city-folk fear, our enthusiasm came to a screeching halt when the Subaru trailer got stuck in a foot and a half of mud by the barn. We tried to get it out… and obviously made it worse. Soaked to the bone, we trudged up to the farmhouse and entered our new home. Greeted by a few dead mice and a whole lot of cobwebs, we did the only thing we could. Sparked a joint, cracked open a few Zwickel lagers and dug into our Imo’s pizza.

In hindsight, our arrival at Tall Trees was a definite foreshadowing of the growing season ahead… it’s always fucking something. 😋