Crossing Borders. International At Last

As gracious and helpful they could be Jeff, Eric and Carrie at the Apple Store in Lynwood delivered me the bad news. My PowerBook didn’t make that morning’s DHL delivery. Per the information available from Apple’s depot repair facility in Texas, a part for my computer was back ordered.
If I wasn’t going to let a broken foot delay my journey, there was no way I’d let a broken computer get in the way of moving onward to the Last Frontier. I made arrangements to call with an address in Canada so that upon receipt of the computer the store could ship it to me on the road.
A couple hours later after riding through the strongest winds of my journey to date, I was greeted by the young olive skinned Canadian border customs agent. After the typical where you going, where you from, what’s your citizenship questions, the border guard moved to the nitty gritty.
“Carrying any tobacco or alcohol.” I confided in the two bottles of wine Jonathan had sent me with — not that I needed the extra weight, but there I was sitting at the Canadian border with two cigars and two bottles of wine.
“Any weapons, firearms?”
Nope.
“No weapons? Not pepper spray?”
Nothing.
“You sure?”
Yes. I have no weapons.
“Aren’t you worried, traveling alone and camping, about bears?”
No. Should I?
“Yes. You might want to get some bear spray.”
Should I get some pepper spray? I couldn’t hear him too well because of my earplugs.
“No pepper spray is illegal in Canada. But you can use bear spray.”
He sent me on my way thinking about bears and the need to defend myself.

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