Welcome to Canada

above: There was no “Welcome to Canada” sign after we crossed the border so we had to make our own.

The border crossing at Abbottsford was busier than the border we had previously tried to cross at Glacier. At Glacier, we were the only ones there. At Abbottsford, cars were stacked 8 deep across three lanes and the process was completely different.

At Glacier we were grilled on everything from fruits and vegetables to the amount of alcohol we had on board. We failed on both accounts. So, we purged all potential offenses and at Abbottsford they didn’t even ask about produce and alcohol. Go figure.

Instead, they grilled us in a somewhat accusing tone about whether we have had any problems with Canada. We both said “no”, other than not being able to cross the border two weeks earlier due to our misplaced passports. Then, the officer asked me twice more about whether I had any problems with Canada. I began to feel a little paranoid like he was giving me every opportunity to “come clean”.

It reminded me of a trip to New Zealand when the customs officer’s eyes started darting around and he began chatting in a way which was obviously stalling for time. I think I even saw him push a button under the desk. Then I noticed other customs officials glancing in our direction. Before I knew it, I was escorted from the desk by some very serious looking officials. They asked me many questions and inspected my luggage. After about a half hour, they decided that I was not the Dawn Fleming on their wanted list and let me go on my way.

After the third inquiry into my trouble with Canada, I was beginning to think that the other Dawn Fleming must be wanted in Canada too. Thankfully, we eventually passed all their tests and were given the OK to enter the country.

That hurdle finally cleared, we began to review our route to Alaska. Spreading out the map, I took my perfectly calibrated fingers and stretched them from South Carolina to Washington. Then, I stretched them from Washington to Anchorage. Funny thing is, it measured the same. I guess we still have a long way to go.

So I said, “here we go guys, what road trip music do you want to listen to?” The Lil’ Dude responded “how about get your head in the game, that’s kinda trippy!

Here we go.

P.S. As we entered Canada, my phone began beeping wildly to make sure that I knew that I was now in international roaming territory – not a part of my phone service plan. So, you may not hear from me for a while.

“A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.”  John Steinbeck