We have just received word that the last of our fleet has made is safely back into the loving arms of the homecountry.
Things did hit a snag at the border, however, when customs officials detected what they took to be the distinctive effluvium of marijuana emanating both from T-Bone's Battle Wagon, then from Pepper's Gremlin.
Heywood recounts breezing through customs later that night only to see our colleagues' vehicles surrounded by drug-sniffing dogs and being picked apart by uniformed officers. The search for drugs proved fruitless in the end -- though a couple of items of thrift store taxidermy were confiscated as contraband, along with a milk crate of coyote bones Cotton had scavenged from Death Valley.
(photo by Erkuden Sakana)
Our hearts go out to the men and women of the Canada Border Services Agency. Both cars were packed to the gills with luggage, all sorts of boxes within boxes, sacks of bags and sundry poorly packed odds and ends. Nobody should have to go digging around in the seething rat's nest that is T-Bone's car.
There is a jar in T-Bone's car...
If only there had been some way of convincing the officers that the questionable odor was in all likelihood the cloying must of the Balkan blend pipe tobaccos some of our members are a little too fond of.(photo by Becky Johnson)
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Despite the nuisance of having been delayed and searched in vain for illicit drugs, our colleagues want to note how polite the Canadian customs agents were in the carrying out of their duties.
The familiar taste of home
We've all heard countless stories of being bullied with no justifiable cause at the border. A few of us even have our own tales to tell of accusative intimidation tactics by overzealous jarheads with guns. In this instance, however, it was refreshing to be treated with respect by professionals following up on a dubious smell. They even apologized for the delay once they were satisfied that we weren't tying to sneak anything into Canada, and wished us safe travels.
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