We made a brief trip up to Southern Ontario a few weeks back. Personal business. One of those last minute things. Considering the current politics, was a bit apprehensive over the thought of possible border crossing issues. Inquired on obtaining a passport card, but was told 3-4 week wait time. Ta' boot, they currently weren't issuing them anyway because of the U.S. government shutdown. After driving five hours, we sure as heck didn't want to get turned back at the Canadian border. Our business couldn't wait. Nor did we want to. Made a few phone calls to the authorities and explained the situation. "Just gonna' be in Canada for at most two hours to pick something up - then we're gone." Was told by both U.S and Canadian officials to just pack a photo drivers license and an original birth certificate and "you should be fine". Did just that and made it there and back with no problem. The border guards couldn't have been better guys.
Had Previously lived and worked in Buffalo, NY for four years. With occasional business in Southern Ontario we'd traveled that Peace Bridge border crossing probably a hundred times. Back then ya' usually just flashed your drivers license and you were good to go. Guess that currently could be called the good ol' days.
Still, and as always back then, upon reaching the border we were prone to always recall a past, amusing tale told to us by our old buddy Big John, related as follows with a bit of "editing for depth" on our part...
Two or three years out of high school and a casual friend from school, Dino, having since procured a pretty good job, purchased a brand new car. As an added reward to himself he arranged, along with a few other friends, John included, an extended road trip. The route was to take 'em cross country, final destination the southwest U.S. terminating in San Diego, CA. There they would visit with a few other relocated buddies as well as John's brother and dad.
Arriving in San Diego, and after visiting and renewing old friendships, and with no set itinerary, their trip expanded to south of the border into Tijuana, Mexico. A day or two of fun in Tijuana and the boys are set to return. All is well as they arrive at the border crossing for re-entry to the USA. The crossing guard checks their credentials, deems all is good, and waves the crew on thru. John, always good for a wisecrack or two, seated rear seat behind driver Dino, nudges Dino on the shoulder...
"See... I told ya' they don't check the fender wells"... words uttered deliberately within earshot of the border guard...
"OK smart ass - pull that car over into the lot!" responds the guard.
They pull into the lot and are left stewing for about a half hour while the guard goes about his business at the gate. About another half hour later the guard arrives in company with a border patrol pickup riding two inspectors. The inspectors hop out and move to the bed of the truck and begin sorting floor jacks, tools and jack stands. The boys are ordered out of the car and are left to watch as the inspectors go to work...
"Make sure to check those fender wells good!" orders the guard, with direct glare at John.
The inspection proceeds as efficient as a Formula 1 pit stop. After an overall exterior and under frame visual, they initially have the hood and trunk lids open, performing thorough visual inspection of the engine and trunk compartments. Dino occasionally glances John's direction, repeating "##@@!! YOU, JOHN!!"
The interior is next, which includes unbolting and removing the front and rear seats... they rummage thru the glove box and console, perform a visual under the dash, feel about the roof liner...
"##@@!! YOU, JOHN!!"
Next they loosen the lug nuts on all four wheels, place a floor jack front and rear, lift the body and off come the wheels... there's a thorough inspection of the fender wells and again the underbody...
"##@@!! YOU, JOHN!!"
Dino now stands watching in shock as his new car sets wheelless atop four jack stands, front and rear seats setting on the asphalt parking lot along with luggage and all else that they were carrying. Papers scattered throughout the interior...
"##@@!! YOU, JOHN!!"
Finally, the guard walks over...
"You guys are good to go."
Off struts the guard back toward his post. The two inspectors return to the pickup, both pulling metal floor jacks rattling across the pavement. They load their jacks and tools and depart. Dino, John and crew are left to put it all back together.
"##@@!! YOU, JOHN!!"
Some time later we ran into Dino while out having a few beers. Eventually, in conversation, we brought up John's retelling of the incident...
"##@@!! JOHN!!" was his only reply.
We related this tale to an actual border agent who was a neighbor on the same block as us in North Tonawanda, a suburb of Buffalo. He said that those guys actually got off easy. The agents could have pulled all the door panels, dismantles the dash - a total number of things. "They could also have held those guys in custody for 72 hours for thorough background checks... they were lucky that the agents were just teaching them a lesson.."
Needless to say, John never got invited along on another road trip - unless he drove alone.
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