In Montana, growing hemp can still be risky for farmers

Montana farmers planted 22,000 acres of hemp last year — the most of any U.S. state. Many are turning to the recently legalized option because trade wars continue to hurt profits on traditional crops like wheat and barley. But now many Montana hemp farmers allege they weren’t paid what they were promised. The result is a multi-million dollar lawsuit against the company they partnered with. 

Dean Nelson is among that group waiting to learn the fate of his hemp crop. Roughly 1,000 bales still line his fields, each one about 1,400 pounds.

Last year, the northeast Montana farmer was contracted to grow almost 700 acres of hemp to be processed into CBD products. Now, like several dozen other growers, including a few family members, Nelson waits to be paid: $430,000 in this case.

“My nephew, it was everything he had. So he's working in the oil field now. Horrible shame. But us, it's half a million dollars out there. Yeah, I’d kind of like to have that,” he says.

Overall, court documents show farmers in Montana and North Dakota are seeking punitive damages and roughly $7 million from the lawsuit. That figure is what they were initially promised for growing nearly 12,000 acres of hemp—more than half of the Treasure State’s entire yield last year.

Nelson is the fourth-generation to farm in Sheridan County, which is wedged between Canada and North Dakota. He and his brother took over an 11,000-acre farm after their father retired in the early ‘90s.

It’s not an easy business.

“I don't have any pictures from Disneyland or any trips we've gone on," Nelson says. "Because probably in the last 10 or 15 years we've been gone from here a total of maybe a week a year. And that may not even all be in one stretch."

Nelson says his operation is doing fine, but he’s not burying money in the backyard. Like other farmers, he’s getting hit by slumping revenues from traditional crops.

That’s why he decided to plant hemp last year. A booming market for the allegedly medicinal compound CBD means it’s in much higher demand than traditional grain crops.

Anton Bekkerman is an associate agriculture professor at Montana State University.

“A lot of farmers who are seeing wheat prices being low, barley prices being low, they're looking for this alternative crop and a lot of them are considering hemp. The opportunity for making quite a high return on putting that crop into the ground — there is at least a lot of promise and a lot of optimism,” he says.

Investment research firm Cowen estimates U.S. retail sales of CBD products are, at the low end, around $600 million. But the group forecasts sales to grow to $16 billion by 2025.

Despite the CBD hype, there still aren’t many hemp processors to sell to. That can put farmers in uncertain situations. It’s not like markets for wheat or barley with buyers that have been in business for decades.

“One of the concerns that we've seen in Montana is that we have a lot of farmers who are willing to grow this crop, but maybe a lot of question marks about, well, where is it going to go?” Bekkerman says.

There’s also the issue of insurance.

Hemp had been illegal in the U.S. for decades, like its cannabis cousin: marijuana. That’s despite the fibrous plant containing negligible levels of THC, which gives weed its stoney buzz.

Congress legalized hemp-growing nationally last year, but it’s still too early to get federal crop insurance for drought, disease and other hazards. Bekkerman says that adds danger to growing hemp in the meantime.

“The farmers that are more willing to accept that risk will say, 'it really doesn't matter. I'm going for the upside of the potential profit.' Those who are less risk-taking are going to say, 'yeah it’s a big deal and I'm not going to grow it until I know that there's a safety net.'” Bekkerman says.

Dean Nelson was willing to take that risk, and, under Montana’s hemp pilot program, signed a contract with an unproven company called USA Biofuels. It turns out that company wasn’t even licensed to buy commodities.

Nelson and other farmers who contracted with USA Biofuels allege fraud, saying they weren’t paid anything close to what they were guaranteed. So they haven’t delivered their crops.

That means Nelson’s year-old hemp harvest remains stuck in agriculture limbo. He says he gets mad each time he drives by the bales still piled up on his farm.

Also piled up are bills Nelson is having trouble clearing. He needs to make payments on the credit he borrows each year to cover basic farm expenses like equipment, fertilizer and pesticides. The unsold hemp isn't helping.

“I'm very close to being maxed-out on my operating money this year. And a large part of that money was to go and pay off my operating loan from last year,” Nelson says.

Meanwhile, a complicated series of mergers involving USA Biofuels has clouded its position in the lawsuit.

The state Department of Agriculture filed a court petition in May asking a judge to figure out which company would be liable for paying the farmers, if their lawsuit is successful, and whether that company has the money to even do so.

If the company doesn’t have the funds, the state could move it toward bankruptcy to pay debts.

Nonpayment complaints from farmers initially spurred the state to file its petition. Ag Department attorney Cort Jensen says it’s a rare move.

“In my decade of doing this, this will be the second one,” he says.

Jensen says this kind of thing also doesn’t often happen with large, traditional commodity buyers.

“They're usually more established companies and frankly a more established way of doing business," he says. "We start dealing with newer or smaller crops, the odds of disputes or breakdowns in the classic farmer-purchaser relationship can occur.”

Lawyers representing USA Biofuels didn’t return multiple requests for comment on the lawsuit, but a legal response denies most of the plaintiffs’ claims.

Meanwhile, USA Biofuels’ parent company, Eureka 93, recently underwent widespread upheaval with the resignation of its entire senior leadership team, and all but one board director.

Hemp farmer Dean Nelson is staying busy too.

He was harvesting during an August visit to his farm, which means long days cutting and baling crops. Lots of sky, green and golden brown fields, interrupted mostly by machinery parked beside the gravel road cutting through Nelson’s property.

Despite the uncertainty he’s experienced with hemp, Nelson chose to grow it again this year — 880 acres. Some of the crop is under contract to a cannabis company in Colorado.

Nelson says this company inspires confidence. They’ve delivered good seed and payments on time. They even toured his fields with him from a tractor cab.

Nelson hopes the Colorado company will be a long-term business partner.

"Having that someone that you can trust on the other end. That's huge. It makes me feel better if I can take it to my bank and show them, 'hey here's what our plan is, here's what we're doing with them.' That's where it really differs from wheat and other commodities that we're used to raising," he says.

Nelson is again willing to take a risk on the still fledgling hemp market because prices for those established commodities remain so low.

He’s running out of bins at his farm to store canola, soybeans and durum wheat — crops it doesn’t make sense to deal at today’s low prices.

"We sold some at a price that's half of what we should get for it. If you do it on paper, you can't make it, it just doesn’t work," Nelson says.

Six giant bags of last year’s peas are still stored in Nelson’s fields, each one containing 15,000 bushels he can’t sell. Two bags of last year’s durum sit wrapped in white plastic on a different plot of land.

Unlike with those crops, Nelson does get cold calls asking if he knows anyone with some hemp to sell. He just isn’t sure whether the folks on the line are reputable.

Oregon’s cannabis industry scrambles to respond to the vaping crisis

It is not hyperbole to suggest the vaping crisis is the greatest challenge the nascent cannabis industry has yet had to face.

As reports of severe lung illnesses related to vaping have spread across the country, including two deaths in Oregon, it's been a stark reminder that the federal status of cannabis as a Schedule I drug continues to make the industry susceptible to existential threats, like the parallel black market.

National health agencies are still struggling to identify the cause of the lung ailments, and various studies have pointed to theories inconsistent with each other. But last week, Oregon Gov. Kate Brown implemented a six-month emergency ban on flavored vaping products—more specifically, any product using artificial flavors or terpenes extracted from sources other than cannabis.

It was, for some, a reprieve. But with the Oregon Liquor Control Commission set to spell out the particulars of the ban and how it will be implemented this month, it's hard to forecast what the long-term impact of the ban might be. Those who know the industry best predict different outcomes, but all agree change could ripple throughout the supply chain.

We spoke to several experts in the cannabis field and asked them to forecast the fallout of the crisis and the ban.

How will the ban affect growers and extractors?

For some in the industry, the limited scope of the ban was met with a sigh of relief.

Nathan Howard of East Fork Cultivars in Southern Oregon is one of the farmers in the clear: His farm supplies roughly 10 cartridge producers, all of which use only cannabis-derived terpenes.

But Howard sees trouble for farmers who supply plants mostly to cartridge companies that add botanical terpenes to their products for consumers who "want their smoke to taste good."

"Those [companies] were willing—legally, up until this point—to add flavors and increase their sales," Howard says. "It's going to punish folks that have been following the regulations up until now."

J.T. Thompson owns Sublime Solutions, an extraction company that relies heavily on botanical terpenes to flavor oil. He's one of the people who will be punished by the ban.

"It would put me out of business overnight," says Thompson, whose company contracts with roughly 10 cartridge producers. "I'm the guy who's going to be destroyed first."

Extractors like Thompson have two choices: alter their manufacturing practices to comply with the new state regulations or watch their businesses crumble.

Thompson says 80 percent of the oils he extracts contain botanically derived terpenes, and he estimates the oils he extracts for cartridge companies make up 15 to 30 percent of the cartridges on sale in Oregon. His clients include some of the biggest cartridge makers in the state, including Winberry Farms.

For cartridge companies that want to shift to cannabis terpenes, the process of getting a new product designed, approved by the OLCC and tested takes months.

Economist Beau Whitney, who follows the cannabis industry, thinks extractors can make the shift if they have enough money to re-engineer their manufacturing process. "I think it should be fairly straightforward for the industry to adjust on this," Whitney says. "It's easier to take something out of a product than add something in."

But Thompson says it's not that simple, and the flavor ban isn't grounded in science.

"I don't have a big pile of cash to burn through," he says. "It's truly as if I got convicted of murder and sentenced to death, with no evidence, no witnesses, and no information to back up that charge."

How will consumer trends change?

The ban guarantees that a portion of vape users accustomed to fruit-flavored cartridges will have to convert to unflavored products. Joe Bergen, general manager of Avitas, a cannabis farm and cartridge maker, says restricting the ban to flavoring has already resulted in an initial spike in sales for his company's 100 percent cannabis oil line.

"Honestly, we have seen a dramatic increase in sales in the natural products that we sell," Bergen says. "We believe that several of the dispensaries that carry a variety of products are saying, 'Gosh, we need to increase our inventory of natural cannabis products.'"

The other option for consumers is to switch to flower, creating a more competitive market. Essentially, says Avitas owner Adam Smith, the "entire market will be squeezed" and could drive up prices across the state if demand overwhelms supply. This could be beneficial for farmers, whose livelihoods were threatened after last year's massive oversupply of flower steeply slashed market prices, giving them little profit margin. Flower prices have mostly recovered from last year's shock, but could climb higher if consumer habits shift following the flavor ban.

But Whitney says consumer trends depend on several factors, and the flavor ban could be just one  more nuance in the equation.

Perhaps the most elusive thing to remediate in the wake of the crisis is consumer trust. As a monthlong frenzy consumed the industry, farmers, budtenders, shop owners and oil extractors have been peppered with consumer queries about the safety of their products.

Smith is hopeful the market will adapt, but he says restoring consumer trust will take time.

"Even if the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention came out tomorrow and said, 'We figured it out,' the consumer confidence won't just rebound like that," Smith says. "We have a lot of work to rebuild trust in the industry."

What will the impact be on the federal level?

As the long-term effects of the flavored-vape ban cloud the future of Oregon's cannabis industry, there is some agreement about the silver lining—it points to the need for federal legalization to ensure consistent regulations across state lines and to stamp out the black market.

"As long as the illicit market continues to thrive," says Amanda Ostrowitz, CEO of CannaRegs, a company that tracks cannabis legislation across the U.S., "the wrongdoings of members of the illicit market will impact the good actors."

Despite the furor surrounding vaping, federal cannabis legislation continues to inch forward: In September, an act championed by Oregon's congressional delegation to remove barriers blocking banks from serving cannabis businesses unexpectedly passed the U.S. House of Representatives in September and now awaits a vote in the U.S. Senate.

Whitney says the potential for revenue is immense if the industry can come out of the crisis—he estimates 340,000 new jobs are waiting to be created by the legal cannabis industry right now.

But until federal legalization becomes a reality, Whitney says he believes the Oregon cannabis industry will adapt to the governor's flavor ban, just as it has always adapted to a constantly evolving regulatory climate.

"What I predict is that these manufacturers will adjust to the new rules," he says, "because that's in the industry DNA."

Aurora Cannabis rolls out cannabis strips

These days, when it comes to cannabis, you can smoke it, eat it, and drink it. But now there's a new way to consume cannabis: strips that dissolve in the mouth.

This is thanks to top Canadian marijuana stock Aurora Cannabis (NYSE:ACB), which announced Tuesday that it has launched cannabinoid-infused "sublingual wafers" -- i.e., thin strips meant to be held under the tongue until they dissolve to nothing. The strips are aimed at medical cannabis users and will be sold on the Canadian market.

Stethoscope with marijuana leaf next to it.

In the press release for the somewhat unimaginatively brand-named Dissolve Strips, Aurora said that it is the first of its kind. Dissolve Strips were developed by Aurora in conjunction with fellow Canadian company CTT Pharmaceutical Holdings.

Aurora, incidentally, holds an approximate 9% stake in CTT, one of various minor shareholdings it has in other companies. Aurora also owns warrants that would allow it to boost this figure significantly, to 42%.

According to Aurora, the new offering "adds yet another innovative offering to our growing portfolio of high quality, medical products that we offer our patient base, and is testament to our industry leading ability to work with technology partners and regulators to bring new form factors to market rapidly."

The company titles this particular form factor Orally Dissolvable Thin Film Wafers, which are made of polymer film.

Aurora Cannabis' Dissolve Strips in white packaging.

Aurora claims the strips have several advantages over other means of ingestion. Among these are quick consumption (five to 15 seconds, the company says) and the ability to be taken orally without having to drink water or to swallow. Such features make Dissolve Strips appropriate for patients who have difficulty taking medicine in traditional ways.

In the press release, Aurora gave no indication of the potential size of the market for Dissolve Strips. It also did not mention any possibility of rolling out or modifying the product for the recreational consumer market, which has been lively in Canada following the legalization of that type of consumption almost one year ago.

Regardless, Aurora stock closed marginally higher on the day the announcement was made, bucking the general downward trend of the stock market. The price has generally been on a decline since March, however, and so far in 2019, it's down by 16%. In fact, it has lately been bouncing around lows not seen in over a year.

‘Green Light’ documentary throws the veil back on medicinal cannabis

The ACT may have just legalised the use of cannabis, but those seeking the drug for medicinal purposes are being left behind. ‘Green Light’ tells the story of two men risking their freedom to treat those in need.

Against the backdrop of the ACT legalising cannabis use and the pending three year anniversary of the government’s highly derided cannabis medicine licensing scheme, comes a documentary that deals with the reality of medicinal cannabis patients on the ground.

Green Light tracks Nicholas Morley and CBD Luke as they provide those in need with organic, whole-plant cannabis medicines, which is the norm in this country, as legal medicinal cannabis is wrapped in so much red tape, it’s nearly impossible to obtain, so those suffering must turn to the black market.

Both Luke and Nicholas have lived a life. Morley had a three-decade-long career in the fashion and music industries that saw him found cult fashion label Buddhist Punk.

However, these days, the pair are taking the compassionate route: risking their freedom to help others.

And not only does Green Light tell a compelling story, but it’s been beautifully shot in the NSW Northern Rivers region by director Ned Donohoe. And the patients that the documentary engages with, make the viewer realise just how valuable the work is that Nicholas and Luke are carrying out.

Legal, but inaccessible

As Green Light points out, cannabis was made illegal in Australia in 1928. And the two best-known molecules present in medicinal cannabis oils are CBD and THC. In the mid-1990s, a system was discovered in the human body, which responds with these molecules and promotes health.

Over the last decade, the awareness of the benefits that medicinal cannabis can bring to those suffering serious conditions grew to such an extent that the federal government passed laws in 2016, which established a medicinal cannabis licensing scheme.

Under the oversight of the TGA, this scheme came into effect on 30 October 2016. Although, three years on, the Office of Drug Control has only issued 20 medicinal cannabis licenses. And what’s legally available is a small trickle of local product and exorbitantly priced imported medicine.

As the Medicinal Cannabis Users Association of Australia related last month, there have only been 14,000 cannabis prescriptions issued since the scheme has been in operation, while a modest estimate of the number of people using cannabis medicine in this country is 100,000 patients.

The path with heart

So, right now, the medicinal cannabis gatekeepers in this country – whether that be the TGA, politicians, the pharmaceutical industry, or the prejudice some medical practitioners harbour about the plant – are withholding relief from the sick and dying.

And Nicholas and Luke have stepped forward to tell their story, which is similar to many other Australian cannabis oil producers, who’ve found themselves in the position of being able to help the sick, when no one else is prepared to.

Sydney Criminal Lawyers spoke with Nicholas Morley about how he came to take this compassionate path, his take on the local legal medicinal cannabis system, and why it shouldn’t be that good people have to break the law in order to benefit their fellow human beings.

Firstly, ‘Green Light’ is a new documentary that follows you and your partner as you provide sick people with cannabis medicine. Prior to this vocation, you actually had a successful career in fashion.

Nick, how did you find yourself helping patients in this way? And as there are risks involved, why would you say you do it?

I’d had quite a long career. I was a hairstylist, a makeup artist and a designer. Then I went back to hair and makeup. I did a whole bunch of different things.

I was living in Bali. Then I moved back to Australia. I spent a year in Sydney and then I moved to Byron. And when I moved there, I was really depressed. I’d had a bad breakup. And things just went horribly wrong.

I met Luke, and he helped me deal with that depression. One of the ways that we did that was by using CBD.

Once I got myself well, I had an epiphany. I thought I can’t go back to working in fashion: you’re either helping people sell clothes that will end up as landfill, or creating images that are there today, and gone tomorrow. And I needed to do something with more substance.

I’ve always had a compassionate side to me. And I decided I wasn’t going to do anything unless it was helping people. So, providing CBD was one way of doing that.

You’re providing high-quality organic oils to patients for a range of ailments. What are some of the conditions that you’ve been helping people with?

From extreme cases of cancer – like pancreatic cancer, I’ve got one guy who was given three months to live, and that was four years ago – all the way down to depression to motor neurons and to Parkinson’s. There are so many different conditions, it’s crazy.

You’ve just touched on this. But, I’d like to ask you, as cancer is a condition that comes up a number of times in Green Light. Nicholas, in your understanding, can medicinal cannabis turn cancer around?

Yes. It can halt it. And it can turn it around, absolutely. It doesn’t work in all cases. But, I’ve seen it work a lot of times. It’s been those times when nothing else has worked. They’ve tried that, and it’s worked.

It’s not a cure. I don’t call it a cure for cancer. But, it can definitely halt it, and it can prolong people’s lives.

And it’s a fantastic tool for helping people to get through all the side effects of having cancer, whether that’s the pain, or the effects of chemotherapy and radiation.

The Narcotic Drugs Amendment Bill was supposed to set up a legal cannabis medicine supply chain. How would you describe the system this legislation established?

A broken joke. We call it the scenic route. It’s doesn’t work. It wasn’t designed to create easy access for patients. In fact, it has made things more difficult. I don’t think the government had people’s best interests in mind when they were putting it together.

So, you’d say it wasn’t a serious attempt at making medicinal cannabis available for patients who need it? 

No, not at all. If they wanted to get serious about making it available, they’d just legalise it across the board and let people do what they want with it.

The documentary points out that what was actually legalised in this country were pharmaceutical isolates of cannabis for medicinal use. 

Now, what you’re providing is whole plant medicine. How do these two different forms of medicinal cannabis stack up against each other?

There’s no comparison. I’m a firm believer that the most important thing on this planet is soil and its quality. That’s where all our life force comes from.

So, if you’re eating good food that comes from good soil, you’re going to get well. It’s always going to taste better. It’s going to be better for you.

If you eat food that’s grown hydroponically, there’s not a lot of nutrients in it, or they’re nutrients that they’ve actually put in. It’s the same with cannabis medicine.

When cannabis is grown outdoors organically, it can be incredibly powerful, and a fantastic healing plant. But, if it’s not grown right, and if it’s not treated right, it’s nowhere near as good.

So, we won’t provide people with products that aren’t grown outdoors organically.

There are also a lot of concerns about isolates. I don’t think it’s necessary to isolate things. The only reason that they’re isolating it is so they can make more money out of it. And that’s not what this is about.

If the government had everybody’s best interest at heart, we’d be looking at this seriously. Australia actually has the perfect climate for growing cannabis. We could do two turnaround crops a year outdoors. There’s no need for any indoor farming.

So, how did it come about that you made Green Light? And as what you’re doing is illegal, why’d you go public like this?

We came to make it because I’d seen another documentary that Ned Donohoe, the director, had made. It was about another cannabis provider, Andrew Katelaris. And I thought it was a very good short piece. It’s called The Pot Doctor.

It just happened to be that my nephew knew Ned. He connected us, and I had a chat with him. I told him it was a really good piece and if he was interested in doing anything else, let me know. We ended up catching up about a year later, and we decided to make this documentary.

In regard to the legality of it all – and the risks involved – to be perfectly honest, the best place to hide is in plain sight. The other thing is, what I am doing is a human rights issue. I’m not some sort of drug dealer.

And lastly, I saw Green Light over the weekend and found it engaging. Nicholas, how did you feel about the documentary when you saw it? And why would you say people should get out and see it?

We’re happy with the results. If people are interested in this topic, it’s a good way of looking at it. It’s an interesting human story. Luke and I both have stories to tell. My past is such a contrast with what I do now.

It’s a nice story of human compassion. There are things that Luke and I have done in our lives that we’re not that proud of. There have been a few dark days. And that comes through in the film.

This is our chance to give back and help people. That feels good.

We both get high off helping people.