I Am Not a Mule!

My very first experience with tumbleweed! I found this wedged under my rig when I went for a late walk.

My very first experience with tumbleweed! I found this wedged under my rig when I went for a late walk.

morning in Great Falls

morning in Great Falls

morning in Great Falls

morning in Great Falls

Once I got used to the sounds at the truck stop last night I was able to have a good night. I was up pretty early and decided to just make a run for the border since there’s a major winter storm watch for southern Alberta this weekend! I had thought to overnight between the border and Lethbridge, but it made more sense to get squared away at my destination before the first flakes fell.

It was about an hour and a half to the crossing at Sweetgrass/Coutts and about a half hour to get to the head of the line to make my declaration. I was asked the usual questions about how much I had to declare, booze, narcotics, firearms, money over $10,000, etc., in addition to how long I was in the States and where I’d gone. I was told to pull over and go into the building. I’d declared well over my limit, so I figured I’d get a visit to the cashier and be on my way.

It was about a ten minute wait inside and then I got called up to the counter by a woman who greeted me warmly, asking me how my day was going. But her voice turned to ice when she saw the yellow slip I’d been giving by the lady in the booth. “We want to have a look at your vehicles. Pull a u-ey and go up to bay door number three then wait for instructions.”

Okay, I’d been expecting an inspection, but the tone of voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I went back to the rig, managed to ‘pull a u-ey’ and got lined up at bay door number three where I sat for about five minutes. The doors finally opened and I was directed inside.

This customs official asked me pretty much the same questions as the lady in the booth, but always coming back to “Have you had any modifications made to these vehicles?” He kept his tone light and conversational. I waited for him to make his point so I could finally figure out what was going on!

Finally, he said, and I quote: “I’m not going to bullshit you. You’ve had a lot of activity in southern BC in the last three years. Plenty of short runs back and forth across the border with your car. Now, you’ve come across in this huge vehicle along the drug routes. Are you aware of the drug trade between California and BC?”

Drugs! I am so bloody innocent that thought never even occurred to me!

He proceeded to give me a five minute information session on the drug trade between California and BC, saying that cocaine is the worst. He showed me a vehicle they had seized recently that had been modified to hide drugs. He explained to me how drugs are brought across the border. Then he asked me if I knew how sniffer dogs work. I didn’t, so he explained it to me.

Then: “The dogs are going to be available in the next hour or so. When they go through your rig are they going to find anything?”

Of course I have no narcotics, firearms, or laundered money on board, but he said it well: “The dogs don’t speak English. If they find something, even if it turns out to be completely innocent, we go digging.”

I suddenly had this vision of my rig being torn apart.

So much for being completely honest, forthright, and up front. Canadian Customs ALWAYS assumes that you are guilty of something. They could learn something from the US officials.

He continued to ask me questions about my lifestyle, my job, my friends, my family (did I know of any of them caught for trafficking?!). Always keeping that even, almost friendly, tone, but I didn’t buy any of it.

“So,” he continued, breaking my train of thought. “Do you have cocaine on board?”

I looked him straight in the eye. “No.”

“When our dogs go through are they going to smell narcotics, firearms, or money that has been involved in the drug trade?”

Again, I looked at him squarely. “No.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’m going to open the bay door now. Pull ahead, get clear of the building, and merge into traffic. You’ll be back on the highway. Have a good day.”

My opinion of CBSA is not fit for print.

A Blustery Drive

From Missoula, I could take I-90 to I-15, but that would have been the long way as I-90 dips down to Butte to reach I-15. I decided to take a chance on Montanta highway 200 eastbound which would take me straight across the state to join I-15 twenty kilometres north of the Flying J/Pilot truck stop. That would mean having to come back up the same twenty kilometres, but that extra forty was still less than doing the all interstate route.

The first half or so of highway 200 made me regret my decision. It is a very twisty single lane route through a valley rimmed with snow powdered black mountains. The speed limit is ridiculous, 65-75, and there are very few places to pull over and let people pass. Add to that the pouring rain and I repeatedly berated myself for choosing the scenic route over the easy one.

But then there was the climb to the summit of the Rogers Pass, not to be confused with the Canadian pass of the same name. From the top, there is a long 6% descent with one hairpin turn (yours truly didn’t even break a sweat). When you get to the bottom and are able to take a breather, you are in a completely different world of yellow hills and big open sky. Finally, I could understand how Montana got its nickname! And the weather cleared to give me that blue I’ve only seen on the prairies, that bright blue that washes out at the edges because there isn’t enough pigment for all the sky. Oh, I was so glad to have taken this route!

It was a torturous ride through this great scenery to the truck stop outside Great Falls because of the very high winds that kept blowing Miranda towards the ditch. I am convinced that had I been passed with a big rig I would have not had the strength to keep Miranda on the highway. And it just got worse on I-15, that highway I only knew until today as a desolate desert path leading to a glittering oasis of hedonism.

The truck stop is going to be okay for the night; there’s lots of room to spread out, but the wind is very bad! I am keeping a very close eye on the kayak on the roof of the car; I may have to take it down.

There’s public wifi here with short-term packages, including $4.79 for 24 hours. Slow, but the price is right.

the west side of the Rogers Pass. I went from this to the next picture in about fifteen minutes

the west side of the Rogers Pass. I went from this to the next picture in about fifteen minutes

I've never been so grateful to a turnout before so I could take pictures!

I’ve never been so grateful to a turnout before so I could take pictures!

IMGP1651

IMGP1652

IMGP1653

driving into infinity

driving into infinity

Now, with all my apologies to Paul Brandt, I need to burst into song:

The sign said (100) miles to Canada
and my (rig) tore across Montana
Ian Tyson sang a lonesome lullaby
And so I cranked up the (iPod)
Cause there’s just a little more to go
Before I cross the border at that Sweet Grass sign
I’m Alberta Bound