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ENLARGE
A Douglas County Sheriff's Deputy reaches out to control a load of marijuana as it is lowered into a truck for disposal Friday afternoon near Glendale. A large pot growing operation was discovered Thursday and law enforcement spent Friday and Saturday cutting down and dismantling the operation.
ENLARGE
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Lt. Curt Strickland, commander of the Douglas Interagency Narcotics Team walks under twine and through one of many "pods" of marijuana plants growing in the forest near Glendale. Local law enforcement agencies spent Friday cutting down most of the plants and will continue Saturday until the plants are gone.
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ENLARGE
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Punji sticks are bagged as evidence at a marijuana grow operation near Glendale. The sticks are normally placed in a pit and covered, intending to wound someone who might step on the trap.
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GLENDALE -- Just days ago, they might have been sitting at their camp stove, cooking up some dried noodles and chili peppers, glad they'd made it through the summer.
In just a few weeks, thousands of marijuana plants would be ripe for harvest, their buds ready to hit the streets of Portland, Seattle or Sacramento.
"If you have a thousand plants, you can make a million (dollars) pretty easy," said Lt. Curt Strickland, commander of the Douglas Interagency Narcotics Team.
But the effort put into nurturing a seed into a 6-foot high stalk -- the deer netting, the irrigation system, the booby traps -- was all for not.
Police figure the roar of a
surveillance helicopter hovering above the mountains Thursday sent the growers who were camping there scrambling. The cash crop they'd guarded for the past few months, at least off and on, was a bust.
Still, the 18 law enforcement officers sent to scour the ridges and canyons for marijuana Friday morning up Mount Reuben Road weren't taking any chances.
Maybe the suspects hadn't been spooked. Maybe they'd left and returned.
Securing the grow site, in an estimated square-mile of dense forest land, took several hours, the hushed voices of officers waiting along the roads and tromping through the brush barely audible over their radios.
Not even a truck door could be slammed.
In just a few weeks, thousands of marijuana plants would be ripe for harvest, their buds ready to hit the streets of Portland, Seattle or Sacramento.
"If you have a thousand plants, you can make a million (dollars) pretty easy," said Lt. Curt Strickland, commander of the Douglas Interagency Narcotics Team.
But the effort put into nurturing a seed into a 6-foot high stalk -- the deer netting, the irrigation system, the booby traps -- was all for not.
Police figure the roar of a
surveillance helicopter hovering above the mountains Thursday sent the growers who were camping there scrambling. The cash crop they'd guarded for the past few months, at least off and on, was a bust.
Still, the 18 law enforcement officers sent to scour the ridges and canyons for marijuana Friday morning up Mount Reuben Road weren't taking any chances.
Maybe the suspects hadn't been spooked. Maybe they'd left and returned.
Securing the grow site, in an estimated square-mile of dense forest land, took several hours, the hushed voices of officers waiting along the roads and tromping through the brush barely audible over their radios.
Not even a truck door could be slammed.
"I want to catch somebody, but ...," Strickland said, his voice trailing off.
More than likely, he said, the suspects hid in a canyon, waiting for a safe time to hike out.
Usually, narcotics officers catch wind of a site through less obvious means, allowing them to set up surveillance and gather evidence before moving in. But this time, a federally-funded helicopter pilot scanning for grow sites put aerial photographs of the bushy green plants into police hands.
Planted in "pods," some just yards from old logging roads, the bright green stalks, with their leaves reaching out like fingers and their buds sticky to the touch, stood conspicuously among the oaks, firs and brush.
After confirming that the growers were gone, officials grabbed their pruning shears and started to cut. Bundled by the hundreds, a helicopter pilot flew them to an awaiting dump truck.
The site is similar to some of the 35 grows local officials busted up in Douglas County last year. Armed growers camp out for the season and tend to thousands of plants; in this case officials estimated there could have been close to 4,000.
More than likely, he said, the suspects hid in a canyon, waiting for a safe time to hike out.
Usually, narcotics officers catch wind of a site through less obvious means, allowing them to set up surveillance and gather evidence before moving in. But this time, a federally-funded helicopter pilot scanning for grow sites put aerial photographs of the bushy green plants into police hands.
Planted in "pods," some just yards from old logging roads, the bright green stalks, with their leaves reaching out like fingers and their buds sticky to the touch, stood conspicuously among the oaks, firs and brush.
After confirming that the growers were gone, officials grabbed their pruning shears and started to cut. Bundled by the hundreds, a helicopter pilot flew them to an awaiting dump truck.
The site is similar to some of the 35 grows local officials busted up in Douglas County last year. Armed growers camp out for the season and tend to thousands of plants; in this case officials estimated there could have been close to 4,000.
Usually, Strickland said, the growers are Mexican nationals hired by large drug trafficking organizations, including Mexican cartels. Officers on Friday found a loaded rifle at a main campsite.
They also found punji sticks, sharpened branches stuck into the ground waiting to stab through the foot of an unlucky passer-by.
The environmental damage was as obvious as the skunky smell wafting from the pot plants.
Trash and clothes littered the ground, along with bags of high-nitro fertilizer. Saplings had been hacked down to allow more sunlight to reach the marijuana. The growers dug out their own pond to feed the black irrigation hoses that snaked through the forest.
"This is really an elaborate system they've got," said Dave Baldwin, who's retired from U.S. Forest Service law enforcement, but works part time for DINT.
Suspects caught in such grow sites usually face federal charges as long as police discover at least 1,000 plants, officials said. Convictions can typically carry a 10-year prison sentence.
Strickland and others agreed Douglas County has been fortunate to have the support needed to keep the problem from exploding, as has happened farther south.
In Northern California last year, Strickland said officials cut down between 1.5 million and 2 million plants, maybe half of what grew there.
Douglas County, said Deputy Zack Williamson, an investigative support specialist for DINT, is prime land for growers getting pushed north.
"We've got our finger in the dam," he said.
* You can reach reporter Chelsea Duncan at 957-4246 or by e-mail at cduncan@newsreview.info.
They also found punji sticks, sharpened branches stuck into the ground waiting to stab through the foot of an unlucky passer-by.
The environmental damage was as obvious as the skunky smell wafting from the pot plants.
Trash and clothes littered the ground, along with bags of high-nitro fertilizer. Saplings had been hacked down to allow more sunlight to reach the marijuana. The growers dug out their own pond to feed the black irrigation hoses that snaked through the forest.
"This is really an elaborate system they've got," said Dave Baldwin, who's retired from U.S. Forest Service law enforcement, but works part time for DINT.
Suspects caught in such grow sites usually face federal charges as long as police discover at least 1,000 plants, officials said. Convictions can typically carry a 10-year prison sentence.
Strickland and others agreed Douglas County has been fortunate to have the support needed to keep the problem from exploding, as has happened farther south.
In Northern California last year, Strickland said officials cut down between 1.5 million and 2 million plants, maybe half of what grew there.
Douglas County, said Deputy Zack Williamson, an investigative support specialist for DINT, is prime land for growers getting pushed north.
"We've got our finger in the dam," he said.
* You can reach reporter Chelsea Duncan at 957-4246 or by e-mail at cduncan@newsreview.info.


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