When I wake up I'm looking at the blue sky. "Pretty white clouds, but why the hell am I in the mud? Shit! At least I am not in the hospital like last time. I think I broke my nose. Where the hell is all this blood comming from?? Oh shit it's mine! What the hell just happened?"

As I wobble up my phone chirps. Partner calling. "Where are you?" he asks.
"Hell if I know" I answer. "Why is my quad in the cane?" Follow the tracks, and it becomes obvious.

The day started off easy enough. Partner had a day off and I am doing my usual nothing, Both of us are cracking seeds and we plan a return to the cane fields. Both of us have blown up our legal numbers, and we are looking for places to grow our "overage".

Maui has 35,000 acres of sugar cane. We are the last Island that still grows sugar. When I moved here in the '60 we had 3 mills and more than 60,000 acres in sugar on Maui. Sugar was grown on Kauai, Oahu, Maui, and the Big Island. Now the only sugar plantation left standing is HC&S. That stands for Hawaii Commercial and Sugar, though to us it means Harvest Cannibis and Smoke.

Growing in the cane is real simple. Every eight feet there is a drip line. On either side of the drip they plant 2 ft lenghts of sugar stalks. These lenghts of seed cane root and grow into 25 ft stalks of cane. We were going into the young cane and removing one side of the seed cane to make a hole so we could plant there later.

There is security in the fields, in cute little Ford trucks, but both of us are on Suzuki 500 LT quads, so we can run if necessary. We also know places where we can cross the irrigation ditches and they can't, so escape is not hard. Except when you get hit in the face going 40 by a big old thick wet stalk of cane. Then you wind up on the dirt wondering what the hell happened. That 'll teach me not to wear a helmet.

By this time I hear my partner getting closer. He is following my trail. I also hear a truck motor and that means Security is out there too. Time to get out of Dodge. Start the quad and drive it thru the cane. Right down the row. Let's see them chase me in here. Get thru the field. I can go left or right, chose left. Oh shit! Security is comming down the road! He puts the truck sideways to block the road. I slide the quad behind his truck and I'm gone.
Hit the main road and find the ugliest side road I can find and head up the hill.
Throttle up the hill and wait.

Sure enough the security truck makes the turn and is flying up the hill. Persistant little bastard. They have radios and by this time they are setting up to block us off. Time to bail. Say bye bye. I'm gone. Head further up the hill and I find a field that they are watering. That's what I'm looking for. Little Ford trucks don't do well in mud. I find a giant puddle, fly thru it and find a dry spot. Wait. Call partner. Nothing.

Here he comes! Hits the mud and SPLAT. Watch the truck slow, then sink in. Come on buddy,... floor it!.... Nice try.... Bummer dude, your stuck! To bad so sad. Make my day! See ya!

By now I'm sure the have the top blocked off. Call partner again. he answers. "Where are you? OK I'll find you". Back down the hill. find his tracks and follow.

A few minutes later there he is. "What happened to you?" he says

"Don't ask" I reply. "I put one of those fuckers in the mud. Stuck to the axels"

"Bastard tried ram me" partner says. "I going fix him up".

Oh oh...I've seen this before. Partners quad is sitting on a concrete slab, in a nest of baseball sized stones. Rear wheels are facing down the road. I want to watch, but not so I'll get busted for what will happen next. I nestle in the cane and sure enough a little Ford truck is comming. Partner just sits. Truck pulls up behind partner. Partner put it in third gear, opens the throttle, holds the front brake, and dumps the clutch. The nest of rocks he was sitting on become projectiles. Poor bastard opens the door and there are 50 baseball sized stone comming at him.

After the dust clears, the windshield is busted, the drivers side window is gone, and the truck looks like somebody worked the front over with a sledge hammer. Quads rule....again. Now its time to go home. Fast. But instead of leaving from the top we head to where we stashed the gas, fuel up and go the long way home. Later after dark...like midnight, we go grab the truck and trailer. A fun day done.

My nose ain't broke , but I look like a racoon. We got what needed to be done,done. As soon as these starts are ready, they have homes to go to.

Why in the world are we messing with security? We will be in the cane this year. We need to train them not to chase us. After a trip or two like the last one, HC&S will put out a memo instructing security not to chase motorcycles. They will be instructed to call the cops. And the cops know better than to chase people in the fields. They have wrecked enough cars in there. They already have a policy of not going off road in their blue and whites.

I have not ridden my quad in a long damn time. We keep them stashed for special occasions. And I do have extra plastics so I can change the colors. When we plant we only take one. One of us works, the other cruses the fields, leaving trails, and making sure the other is alone.

In my younger years I planted exclusivly in the fields. In those days we worked on the Lahina side. It was heaven. We must have put 500 patches in and only got ripped off twice. The place was so forgiving I could take seeds, pots, and dirt up in the cane, enough rain fell that I could get my starts going there and just move them to their final homes. But alas, The mill closed down 20 years ago, and that came to a grinding halt.

So we moved to the central valley. Then the fields were not gated, so the batu heads would grid search the fields. That year I lost 90% to rips. Next year was the same. So I gave up.

Now the fields in the central valley are all gated. We have the keys, and the berms are easy to hop, and the rif raf is gone. Once we train security, we should have the place to ourselves. Thirty five thousand acres will be wide open. Prime lowland, dry, hot, and complete with water, is calling me.

This'll be fun.