Still trying to put on miles to leave time for the Arctic, so not enough time to write. Storing notes for later.
I’m in – very familiar – runnin’ mode……no stops just keep moving. Once I finally broke loose o’ Coeur D’Alene (see Jeep servicing entry) I had 9+ hours of forward motion and 20-something minutes of pause (GPS tells all).
I like this GPS because it lets you reset “Max Speed” recorded, while keeping everything else intact. I guess some of the Garmin exec’s got caught by troopers who knew where to look to make the guilty admit defeat.
I feel bad because I’m rushing past some of the most beautiful scenery in North America, and I’m treating it like the Belt Parkway in Brookline.
Thinking of my friend, Joe, and my cousin, Tommy, I see the coolest car-guy scenery of the day:
The miles are eating at my brain.
I’ve heard every song that Clear Channel pumps out from the bunker in Kansas to ‘local’ radio. Maybe I should pull out the iPod.
Maybe I should ‘read’ an audiobook……..no…….just keep moving.
I’ll record some more “Stimulus Package” outrages. Here are three pieces of expensive equipment and at least four humans picking up one….repeat one…..road sign.
I now have dozens of these examples. What if we used these funds for health care? What if we opened these jobs to real competitive bidding?
What if we simply stopped using road signs? Then people would have to stop watching DVD’s in their cars and find people in the neighborhood from whom to ask directions.
This would be social networking. No FaceTube.
More miles.
The sun was out for a while. This was wonderful and very close to the motorcycle experience – except way too much sun. That’s OK because I have my crushable cowboy hat. (At my age I have no vanity.)
The hat probably contributed to my delay at the border. I pulled into Canadian immigration very relaxed. In the zone. Wearing the hat. Speaking single words. (Friends know how rare this is.)
‘Where do you live?’
‘Boston……and New Mexico.’
(Stupid move)
‘Where?’
.’…ah…..both….uh’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Inuvik’
‘Where?’
I think, ‘it’s your country, Dude…’ Luckily my brain is too relaxed to say this out loud.
She turns, checks her machine and comes back to the Inuvik thing….’you’re going there? What for?’
‘The heck of it’…..sheepish smile….the same smile that used to piss people off in bars.
‘Straight there?’
‘Yup.’
‘Visiting any friends along the way?’ (She can’t believe anyone would do this without some other motive.)
‘Nope’
‘Leaving anything along the way?’ (She still thinks there must be some other reason for going.)
‘Nope’
‘Have you ever been denied entry into Canada?’
‘Nope’
‘Have you ever been fingerprinted for something other than work.“
Damn! It happened again….the question that simply blanks out my mind and sends it searching….have I ever been fingerprinted?…..was that work?….does one finger count?…..I did have one finger printed once but I can’t remember where or what for……etc…..etc..
This is just like the time they asked, ”Have you ever been in jail?“ That question was so far from my consciousness that I just had a sudden blank look…..with that bloody stoopid smile….
Look at the picture above. Clearly not a cowboy. Picture that with a stoopid smile and no ability to recall fingerprinting events. I get it….I know why she had to make her next move…
‘Please wait, Sir”
Close the window. Hit the computer. Talk with others in the office. (“Look at all the visas in his passport” they seem to say.)
Now I’m trying to look relaxed, and to ever so slowly change the stoopid smile to a more normal human expression. I have to do it slowly or the cameras in my face will detect the sudden change and assume I have something to hide.
Wait.
She comes back.
‘Do you have any weapons?’
Finally, something I can use to regain normalcy and demonstrate that I am just a seasoned border crosser who is finally in the zone and just has these stoopid facial muscles…..
‘Bear spray…..with a picture of the bear on it.“
She relaxes. The bear picture means you can bring it into Canada, and that you are a normal bear spray carrying arctic-seeker. Now we have something to talk about human-to-human, not guard-to-smiler.
‘Is is near?’
Nod.
‘Can you get it for me?………pause……Without spraying me?’
(My mind wants to joke, but I know if I joke the smile will happen again. Instead I silently show her the bear picture….and deftly remove the hat as I reach over for the spray.)
She smiles for the first time.
She holds the can to check the validity of the picture.
I am free to go.
‘Be safe up there’
I am across …. one more step closer to the Arctic…with most of my 20 minutes of stationary time behind me for the day.
I ride.
Into the rain.
Learning from the road…..
….I had hoped to keep all the canvas off the Jeep to emulate the motorcycle experience, even in the rain. It rained. Hard. I tried to keep the roof rolled up. But without a helmet the rain – and road grime – fills my face and I can’t drive. Duh.
So, I had to roll the ‘duster’ top back, leaving the sides open. This worked fine until the rain came in sheets. Began soaking the gear under the rear cover.
Hmmmm – so I put the soft windows up again.
Excellent. More covering than I hoped for, but still wide open. See video below (double click):
You can see that even with the top extended, the water gets sucked in the back – but this does not get my gear wet.
Dry.
Another road problem solved.
I have reached another compromise with the Jeep, my surroundings, and can spend some hours trying to remember all the times I have been fingerprinted.
Next time I will get this question right.