Border Shakedown

 

Well, I was pretty happy about having propane gas again. Not only do I have heat if I need it but being able to use my stove top and generator means I can do some dry camping, in more spectacular places than commercial RV parks.

Crow Picnic

I thought about going north to Banff National Park, but every time I have been there it is too busy for my liking. The option that appealed to me more was heading south back to amerika and doing the Cascade Loop.

Doing the northern part of the loop would take me to highway 20 and a section of road that I haven’t traveled.

I opted for the loop and pointed the van with a name south towards Washington.

Brakes Are Good Tires Are Fair Its Off To Washington

 I passed the legendary connector highway 97c at Peachland where Years ago the connector had been another leg in a very long day of motor bike riding, where one machine was having at the time cosmic, magical issues with running, that no dealer could fix. And when the issue was finally discovered, it was nothing more than a leak in a fuel supply line inside the tank, and no dealer had the part anyway.

The hotel was accommodating when I called and said we would be “late arriving” they said no problem we will leave the door open, and they did. The next morning at the hotel when I went to register, I was cursed at by a rather large gray parrot, who not only swore but imitated the sound of the phone ringing and sirens. The lady who owned the parrot got so drunk around the fire the next evening that she pissed all over herself and her tickle me Elmo jammies. No wonder that parrot had such a foul beak.

Elmo No Friend To Gray Parrots

But good memories of a rally at Penticton and then riding with locals through Vancouver at Mach 8 to get to the ferry to Victoria on time. We made it…

Before the border at Oliver, I thought I would stop for supplies, since everything is 13% off. I picked up the regular stuff, and then I noticed the chicken eggs. I thought it has been a couple of years since the nice lady at the border in Montana wanted my chicken eggs, and I thought eggs still can’t be a thing what with fascism, taking ahold,  abolishing the rule of law, and burning that dusty old document the Constitution. Why not. I picked up a dozen of primo brown Canadian  chicken eggs.

I rolled up to the border crossing at Orville Osoyoos and the first thing I noticed was that unlike the border crossing at Cascade, where I waited for the man in the station to turn the pull ahead lite from red to green, that this is a massive facility, resembling a military outpost or maybe a  outlet mall.

Orville Osoyoos Border Station

As you roll along to meet with the gunslinger border and customs agent you motor through a scanner large enough for semis, and you and if any passengers are exposed to who knows how many gamma rays of safe radiation.

At the window the gunslinger asked me the regular questions. Where are you coming from. “Me Canada” Where you are going. “Me Osoyoos Lake State Park” Why were you in Canada, and that question he answered himself. “Hanging out at the lake” “Yes, I said.” At the back door to the gunslingers hut another little man appeared I thought that my guy was going for a cigarette. But the integration continued. Do you have any guns (asked twice) I felt like saying you can’t bring most household guns into Canada, but I just said No. 

My gunslinger handed my passport to the little man at the back door and said follow him he has your passport. I did, and the little man led me out of the traffic and pulled me just to the side of the road. Not the place where they are going to shake you down but just off to the side.

The little man (gunslinger) said he wanted to look inside the van with a name. I said okey. I got out of the driver’s seat and opened the door for him.

Once inside he only had one question for me. “Do you have any eggs?” he didn’t specify chicken eggs, but I knew what he meant.

Being confronted by this little gunslinger was an unconfutable situation for me, but I kept my wits about me and answered you already know I do you saw them in the scan. 

This was not the answer that he was programed to receive. He marched over to my refrigerator, fumbled with the door, and grabbed my dozen eggs.

Then he started foaming at the mouth, telling me that I did not tell him that I had deadly contraband, but then I told him he knew I did, and he had the evidence in his hand, so just what is it you want?

Then he started off on he could fine me $300. For not telling him I had chicken eggs, then I told him he knew I had chicken eggs, and you have them in your hand, and just what is your point?

My lands this little gunslinger was offensive, but then I gave him the look that he read as I am not scaring her. I don’t think I could scare her over a dozen eggs or two dozen eggs, or the  two joints of marijuana  she had in her shoe the first time she crossed the border in the olden days. 

He changed his toon then and wanted to be my best pal, asking how I liked the van with a name. what I liked in my omelets.

I was glad to see the little egg sucker go, and I think I will start a tradition of every time coming back into amerika I will pick up a dozen , maybe  two dozen  chicken eggs just to make amerika greater. 

Serious Contraband At The Border