COACHELLA or bust: The second road-blog instalment
Whew! You’ve missed quite the little adventure so far! Last we met I was rudely interrupted by a female border guard officer at the customs office in Coutts and she ordered me to cease using my computer immediately. So, preferring to have my cavities unsearched I complied. Anyhoo, all was well and good and were were out of there in a shockingly fast 45 minutes. Crazy, I know,
HOWEVER
A bout an hour away from the border we were pulled over for speeding by not one! But, in fact, two county sheriffs cars. The were very nice well mannered gentlemen (seriously) to boot. Let me tell you though things down here in the states must be awfully different from stuff up in Canada as the sheriffs felt the need to look through our stuff… at 3 in the morning on a very cold, and very dark highway. Satisfied that our stuff was far cooler than theirs they let us go with a warning and an order to appear in court on May 19th. Well, to be honest, the order was for James only and it will be interesting how (and if) he appears in Grand Falls, Montana court on May 19th.
Shivering from head to toe wearing nothing but light and airy lululemon (sans underwear, of course, to boot).
Our drive through Montana gets even better. Failing to observe the fuel level indicator in the vehicle James (who was pilot at the time) failed to turn off to what had seemed like the only gas station around. Getting to the next town on the road only to find that it wasn’t open we decided that we would chance things and push on further to the next town as turning back wouldn’t have been the “prudent” thing to do. So James pressed on and I quietly objected seeing as he was probably right. Wrong. Upon arriving at the next town, Wolf Creek, with an empty gas tank at at around 4 am in the morning we were shocked to discover that there was no gas station in sight. So, what did we, as intrepid travelers, do? Being the only properly clothed (relatively) individual in the car who could handle the cold Montana twilight I set off on foot into the town armed only with a flash light in search of the gas station. The town was built just below the elevated highway in a dip between the uncomfortably close mountains. The buildings were small and wooden with small windows, and there was nary a porch light or lamppost to be found. Almost like a mountainous shanty town, really. After about half an hour of running in the cold, I found the deserted gas station. We were lucky enough that though closed for business until the morning the pumps were left on and were able to use our credit card at the pump fuel up and proceed on into the night. Stopping to urinate at the town’s edge we had successfully overcome yet another obstacle we pressed.
Now, after that ordeal I am seriously considering changing my name to Rubicon.
HOWEVER
A bout an hour away from the border we were pulled over for speeding by not one! But, in fact, two county sheriffs cars. The were very nice well mannered gentlemen (seriously) to boot. Let me tell you though things down here in the states must be awfully different from stuff up in Canada as the sheriffs felt the need to look through our stuff… at 3 in the morning on a very cold, and very dark highway. Satisfied that our stuff was far cooler than theirs they let us go with a warning and an order to appear in court on May 19th. Well, to be honest, the order was for James only and it will be interesting how (and if) he appears in Grand Falls, Montana court on May 19th.
Shivering from head to toe wearing nothing but light and airy lululemon (sans underwear, of course, to boot).
Our drive through Montana gets even better. Failing to observe the fuel level indicator in the vehicle James (who was pilot at the time) failed to turn off to what had seemed like the only gas station around. Getting to the next town on the road only to find that it wasn’t open we decided that we would chance things and push on further to the next town as turning back wouldn’t have been the “prudent” thing to do. So James pressed on and I quietly objected seeing as he was probably right. Wrong. Upon arriving at the next town, Wolf Creek, with an empty gas tank at at around 4 am in the morning we were shocked to discover that there was no gas station in sight. So, what did we, as intrepid travelers, do? Being the only properly clothed (relatively) individual in the car who could handle the cold Montana twilight I set off on foot into the town armed only with a flash light in search of the gas station. The town was built just below the elevated highway in a dip between the uncomfortably close mountains. The buildings were small and wooden with small windows, and there was nary a porch light or lamppost to be found. Almost like a mountainous shanty town, really. After about half an hour of running in the cold, I found the deserted gas station. We were lucky enough that though closed for business until the morning the pumps were left on and were able to use our credit card at the pump fuel up and proceed on into the night. Stopping to urinate at the town’s edge we had successfully overcome yet another obstacle we pressed.
Now, after that ordeal I am seriously considering changing my name to Rubicon.
posted by claver at 7:09 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home