LOCAL COPS SAID THEY HAD no "advanced notice" about Saturday's Million Marijuana March at Paradise Park, but America's snack food industry certainly came prepared.

Half an hour before scores of pro-pot activists ambled over to stage their second annual demonstration in the heart of Las Vegas suburbia, just about the largest Doritos truck in the company's fleet backed up right at the lone nearby convenience store, not 200 yards from the rally site. Was that actual smoke spewing out of the cavernous rear doors of the rig as workmen unloaded -- hand-over-hand, Army style -- crate after crate of delectable nacho cheese and cool Ranch chips? What did they know that Metro didn't?

And then, there were the ice cream trucks. As if Klondike vendors from across the valley could smell the sweet, blue smoke wafting down the quarter-mile from the park's green, rolling hills to Tropicana Avenue and McLeod Drive, a mini-convoy of frozen goodies rolled through the park all day. Drivers, their necks craning forward for possible orders, knew to stop only feet from where dozens of dudes in rock T-shirts were debating the benefits of buying versus growing your own. New arguments swirled around why chocolate kicks vanilla's ass.

Yet, Saturday was serious political business for organizers like Beth Soloe, executive director of Nevada's branch of the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws, which sponsored the rally. She said she was happy the march drew more than 80 locals -- from moms and dads looking for information to giggling teens to average Joes -- to talk about marijuana.

Soloe and the handful of serious-minded activists she had lined up to speak had larger points to make. They had concerns. Like the lack of traction churned up by national marijuana decriminalization efforts. Like the hysteria from local television media reports that, medical experts say, are based more on fear than fact. Like arrest trends that have nabbed more than 6.5 million Americans for pot violations in the last decade (4,531 Las Vegans for marijuana crimes since 2005 -- 2,759 of them for person possession of less than one ounce since 2005 alone, according to the latest Metro crime statistics).

"There are a lot of things we're not happy with, but our common goal is all that matters," said Soloe.

Marijuana activists from Newark, N.J., to Nevada are clinging to that sense of community these days. Apart from what they say is the promising success of California's medical marijuana law, the flock is clearly growing restless. And a lust for change isn't motivating only supporters of U.S. Sen. Barack Obama. Pot proponents see Election 2008 as a chance to eke out more real estate for their agenda.

By 2010, say marijuana activists across the country, expect a renewed national push for decriminalization, based on activist claims that marijuana is a natural, effective alternative to many modern pharmaceuticals. To be fair to NORML, a growing body of research, some of it from the government's own Centers for Disease Control, claims marijuana is less harmful than "legal" drugs like alcohol and nicotine, and has never directly caused a human death. According to official studies and public documents, parties as varied as the American Medical Association and former speaker of the House of Representatives Newt Gingrich are on record as supporting some of NORML's claims.

"This plant is the promise of heaven on earth. It has the effect of complete harmony on human health. You don't need a doctor. You don't need a priest. You need this plant," says the Rev. Jack Roberts, the jean-clad, safari hat-wearing, "Cantheist" minister and the rally's first speaker. Roberts is basically a Westernized, Caucasianized form of the Rasta Man. Belief this strong often carries religious overtones, and Roberts is clearly a disciple.

More earthly speakers included Dr. Nancy Lord, a physician and attorney who consults across multiple state jurisdictions for NORML. Lord continued the day's theme of listing what activists say are the medical benefits of marijuana use. Other countries are waking up to the plant's benefits, she and other speakers asked, so why isn't America?

"There's a wealth of literature out there about the benefits of marijuana. So far, the benefits outweigh the small number of reports [that claim cannabis isn't as helpful as activists claim]," she says.

Bruce Mirken, communications director for the Marijuana Policy Project, the largest marijuana policy reform organization in the United States, says that until government regulators abandon social stigma and realize that taxing the plant could generate "billions" for the U.S. treasury, not much will change. Yet, like his fellow pot advocates, Mirken hopes Election 2008 could mean an injection of sanity in dealing with personal use of the drug. Just last week, he says, Congressman Barney Frank, D-Mass., picked up two co-sponsors of his proposal to eliminate all federal penalties and civil fines for use and possession of up to 100 grams of pot. This month, at least four other states are considering the use of medical marijuana.

"Everybody is looking to see if we can move things forward. The government ought to treat this like alcohol. They should tax it, instead of spending billions of dollars to [eradicate] it," he said.

Eventually, officers from Metro did roll up on activists, but only after their afternoon march (a stroll, really) down to Eastern Avenue and back to drum up public awareness for their cause. Drivers honked. Some didn't.

No frothing, chiba-buring crowds lunged at officers. No one threw rocks or Molotov cocktails. Perhaps, say Soloe and her fellow activists, some of the moms and dads and aunts and teens and septuagenarians who did show up to rally for personal pot responsibility did crack some barriers, did shift some perceptions, did nail down some strategy. If they intend to keep taking on the uber-financed pharmaceutical and liquor industries, they'll need all the friends they can muster.