Today would be another day of mileage crunching. We were headed back to the good old USA. When we crossed the border there were two lines and of course I chose the line that moved at about half the speed of the other one. The questions they ask you are always the same. Why did you go to Canada? Do you have any booze? Did you buy anything you are bringing back? Why don’t they ask if I am a card carrying member of Al Kaida or have any miniaturized nuclear weapons? It seems like that would be important stuff to know as well.
We were riding with the Mountains on the horizon but the ride was still very visually appealing. Much of it was farming country and it seems hay is the major crop of the region. The farms in this part of the country would appear to be much larger than those in Indiana. While the summers here at quite pleasant, I would imagine the winter could be brutal. At a gas stop I spoke to a lady who was also a motorcycle rider and she was explaining to me that on weekends she sells crafts that she makes during the winter because that is pretty much all she can do between November and March.
1 comment:
Once, I got asked if I had any guns. I said no and the woman asked me: Are you sure about that?
Well, I had to confess I really wasn't certain if I had any guns in my trunk but I agreed that we would all gather there and check it out.
But that picture of the Canadian beaver is really nifty, Dick.
Welcome back to the USA, where we treat you like a common criminal, er ... citizen.
JU
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