Welcome home! Yeah... right!

THIS was an epic journey brought on by 10 years of a part time home living in AZ. Even though I didn't live there full time, I had a full time home.

So much has changed in the 10 years I owned the southern condo.  First of all... things were especially depressed  in the USA.  The international mortgage scam had frozen growth, many went bust, people lost their homes the rich got richer.

Bike carrier turned out not be of use.

But, like always, someones misfortune created a vacuum that others could fill.  I wanted to live down there since my first visit in the winter of 1998, just could not afford it.

True... my opportunity was minor and I certainly didn't make anyone rich on me, but I, when asked entering the USA at Sweet Grass MT, answered the question "Purpose of your visit?"

I'd answer, "I'm here to support the US economy.  That wasn't a joke, although occasionally someone manning the booth took offence at my answer.

I did manage to drive some back roads like this one in New York State

For anyone that's ever moved from one place to the next, it can be a real headache , I had a life in AZ. As the saying says... "This too shall pass..." such was happening for me.

As I live in a small Island in Canada now, it's a million miles from Arizona.  Okay, I exaggerate a wee bit but the odometer did turn 11,000 plus kilometers  in my 3 weeks closing the place in preparation to listing.

Just one of hundreds of rest stations.

It's a huge country!

When I arrived at the border crossing in Calais Maine and St Stephen N.B. I wouldn't have guessed I would be treated like a criminal.  And that's how it felt. The guy at the gate/booth confused me with his questioning and had me step inside to hand the note to a young woman.  Her questioning was on the verge of an interrogation, about the only difference was I wasn't stripped searched in a brightly lit room!

Wouldn't do it again.

I had to be honest but how she questioned me annoyed me.  We were hung up on whether or not everything in my truck bed had been purchased in Canada and then transported to the US or had items been purchased in the US, which would have triggered some tax penalty I would presume.  She looked at me frowning, and after conferencing with a colleague, commanded me to "Unload the pick up sir."

Say what!!??

Well packed only to have it rummaged through entering Canada.

You want me to unload "here", so you can look for some kind of evidence of smuggling American bought goods. I mean... I even when asked at the booth, declared I had bought tires for the truck while down there, and told him I had 4 bottles of home made wine given to me as part payment for selling my scooter at a discount.

I looked forward to getting out of the Ford and stretch my tired body.

So... she and her cohort stood by while I began the ardus task of pulling off bungy cords, tie downs, straps and garbage bags from stuff at random. She told me to wait inside but thinking, they're going to plant something, I refused and stood back as they did they're thing. After about an hour of this, and after she had departed inside once again, the guy gave me a hand in tying things down as best I could.

That night while I slept over at Lisa's before my return to the Island, it rained, and it rained like an East India monsoon and of course much of my stuff got wet.  After all, things were packed for a 5000 trip! Only rain I had in 11,000 km.

Somewhere in New England

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