MARIJUANA: SHOPKEEPING VS. GUNSLINGING

A low-key storefront legally selling pot looks a lot better than the
illicit plantations that bring the Wild West to the north state's backcountry.

Their juxtaposition was unplanned, driven by events, but the
front-page pairing of two marijuana-related stories last week
couldn't have posed a more telling contrast.

In one, a roving gunbattle left residents huddling, shotguns at the
ready, in fear of armed suspects fleeing from sheriff's officers
after a raid on a massive illegal marijuana plantation a stone's
throw from popular Shingletown-area fishing holes.

In the other, low-key shop clerks supplied medical-marijuana users
from the store-front co-ops that have recently popped up around
Redding, taking advantage of the Obama administration's policy of not
sending federal authorities after users and sellers who follow their
state's laws.

Which would you rather have in your neighborhood?

Redding is a conservative town, but its residents have so far
accepted the opening of at least four co-ops with a shrug. Both the
city's planning manager, Doug DeMallie, and its police chief, Peter
Hansen, say they're unaware of any complaints about the shops that
have recently popped up.

Chief Hansen added that the co-ops are trying to comply with state
law, as currently interpreted. That means that the co-ops can supply
marijuana only to their patient-members and cannot earn a profit.

Whatever the law says, though, there's plainly a healthy capitalist
competition at play. One Redding co-op, Trusted Friends on California
Street, is looking for new space after a Humboldt County co-op bought
its building with the plan to enter the Redding market. And suppliers
say they're making good money selling the herb. It's still a
high-dollar business, not least because marijuana remains banned for
most purposes.

Whether they're compassionate benefactors getting medicine to
patients or slick operators making the most of a legal gray area,
there's one thing certain about the people at these collectives:
They're not shooting at anyone.

Out in the backwoods, though, it's a different story.

After Shasta County officials raided an illegal farm of 50,000-plus
plants near Nora Lake on Wednesday, the gunfire had residents and
deputies alike on the highest alert as two fugitives, considered
armed and dangerous, fled through the woods.

The fear is well-founded. A gunbattle in western Lassen County the
week before left two deputies wounded, and one suspect dead, after a
similar raid of an illegal plantation.

Plainly law enforcement can't ignore vast, clandestine operations
that illegally exploit our forests. And the U.S. House of
Representatives passed legislation Thursday that would spend $25
million a year more on Forest Service law enforcement to push growers
out of the woods.

But in the vast wilds of California and especially the north state,
it's hard to imagine a task force, however well-funded, with the
clout to root out the illegal growing. The money is too enticing a
motivation, and the opportunty to set up an operation is always just
one remote ridge away.

We can escalate the battle against pot, or we can declare a
cease-fire. The second option looks more tempting every day.