October 3, 2022 A Tale of Two Borders

My wife and I drove south to the United States border on our way to join our friends in Spokane, Washington, for the Iron Maiden concert. We loaded up the camper on the truck and left for our journey southward. 

As usual, we left late.

I decided right from the start I would not get frustrated or upset at leaving late. We would go when we were ready and there was no point in being stressed out.

We arrived at the American border crossing at around 5:00 pm. My palms were sweaty and my mouth was dry as we approached the ominous building that straddles the USA and Canada just south of the town of Osoyoos. Even though we knew we had nothing to fear, crossing the border into the United States always feels stressful.

We pulled our rig up to the border guard and I smiled hesitantly. 

“Hello folks, where are you coming from and where are you headed?” The tall thirty-some-year-old officer smiled as we pulled up to the building. 

“Hi, we are coming from West Kelowna and headed to Spokane,” I answered, not sure what to think, this border guard seemed very friendly. I handed him my passport and he turned back to the booth and went to the computer. I opened my phone to show him my vaccine passport but he didn’t seem interested in it. 

In short order, he came back to my open window. “Do you need to see our vaccine passports?” I asked him.

“No, you just went through Vancouver so I know you had it. Do you have any fruits or vegetables? Any chicken or tomatoes?” The guard asked almost as if he wanted me to say no.

So I did answer no, even though we had a couple of pieces of frozen chicken in the fridge. “We do have a squash from our garden.”

He looked thoughtful, “squash huh? Not sure about that one, do you have any illegal drugs, guns, or any marijuana?”

“No way man, that would be foolish.”

He laughed a big smile on his face, “Come on… I know your lying to me – you have some weed don’t you?”

“No, like I said that would be stupid to cross the border with weed. Besides, you can get it in the states now, so why would anyone be that dumb?”

“Oh you’d be surprised,” he laughed again, “Some people even admit it. One time a guy had a chocolate bar and told me he had some marijuana. I told him it was a chocolate bar but he still insisted it had weed in it.” The border guard smack his hand to his forehead and laughed. “How dumb is that?”

I laughed not sure how to take this overly friendly border agent. “Ya pretty stupid eh?”

“Yup, we see all kinds. I think your squash is fine. Have a safe trip.” 

Just like that, he waved us on and we pulled into the USA. 

“Well that was too easy,” I said to my wife as we drove into America. Half expecting someone to flag us down again and tell us they were just kidding.

Three hours later we pulled into Spokane and picked up all our essential supplies… including a small bag of weed. I was going to an Iron Maiden concert after all.

By the time we finished getting some dinner, groceries, and all our essential supplies it was almost ten at night and the gate to the campground was locked. Fortunately, it was fake locked and we were able to get in and find our friend’s campsite. I was told on the phone we could share a spot with them because the site was for a max of 8 people and two extra vehicles. The site was dark so we set up the camper as quietly as possible. 

We awoke the next day to find out the person on the phone was wrong.

The park ranger informed us we could not have the camper and their RV in the same spot. We would have to move.

Sometimes luck is with us and in this case, we lucked out big time.

The camp host was leaving and we could have their spot. It was only the best spot in the campground and three sites away from our friends. Right next to the river too. 

Things were coming up with roses for my wife and I.

The weather was amazing and the area was beautiful. You would never know that only a short distance away was suburbia. The Bowl and Pitcher campground is on the Spokane River in the heart of the city of Spokane.

The first night, my friends and I went to the Iron Maiden concert and left my wife at the campground. What a show it was. 

Two days later we were on our way home.

We pulled up to the border crossing at Midway BC, anxious to get home. The border closed at 5:00 pm and it was 4:30 pm – cutting it a little close but no big deal, or so we thought.

The shack on the side of the road didn’t seem like much. The guard was talking to a guy in a little car. I could tell from his body language the Canadian border agent wasn’t a happy person. He stared at us and pointed us to stop and wait. There was no barrier at the border and it looked like it was too easy for someone to just drive into Canada unobstructed.

But I knew better.

The hefty border agent gave the man in the car his passport back and waved him on. He then turned and looked at us and signalled me to pull ahead.

“Hello, where have you been and where are you going?” No smile on this guy.

“We went to Spokane and we are going home to West Kelowna,” I replied.

“When did you go and what are you bringing back?”

“We went down on Thursday and we aren’t bringing anything back,” I answered, feeling a bit intimidated. The last time I crossed into Canada it was a much warmer welcome.

“Do you have any alcohol, tobacco, fruits, vegetables, or raw meats?” His scowl seemed to grow with every word he said.

“We have an apple. Nothing else.”

“The apple stays here. Nothing else? You mean to tell me that you were in Spokane since last Thursday and you didn’t buy anything?” 

I started to worry, was he going to search the camper? “I do have a shot of tequila left in the bottle I drank over the weekend. But we never went shopping. We came down for an Iron Maiden concert and to go camping. Basically went to the show and stayed at the campground then left and came home. Didn’t want to spend the money. And we are quitting drinking for the month so didn’t want any alcohol.” I was scrambling for explanations. I guess most people go cross-border shopping.  I handed him the apple and our passports.

“Hmmph,” it sounded like a cross between a grumble and a growl as he walked back to the building his computer was in. He set the apple on the table outside and went into his shack.

A few minutes later he came back out and walked to the passenger side of the truck. My wife rolled down the window and tried to offer him a smile. He was having none of it. He frowned deeper at my wife and handed her the passports. 

“Get out of here,” was all he said.

And just like that, we were back in Canada and homeward bound. An hour and a half later we pulled into our driveway, relieved to be home again. 

It was a wonderful whirlwind weekend.

We couldn’t get over how much the border has changed in the last few years. It used to be the American guards were the mean ones and the Canadian ones were friendly. It could just be an individual thing or perhaps just real people doing their jobs and some are nicer than others.

At least there were no more Vaccine passports. As the weather begins to change I hope the only passport we ever have to show is our Canadian one.