2nd: Gill negotiating to get back "into the country"...she's now known as a "dryback"
3rd: You'd have thunk that this sign would have given her a clue, but nooooo
4th: Karen and Marco on the final run to the border. Note Karen pummeling him, while eating a banana, and singing barry manilow jingles. He really needs to train next time
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As this is our last available day (everyone has work and air travel to get to by monday am), and we're still 300+ miles away from the border, we elected to split into 2 groups rather than have to ride late into the darkness on the dark, deserted, border roads. Group A is going to do the near end of the ride, and group B is going to drive to about half way, and start there. That way, we'll still do every mile of the route, just in parallel instead of serially. We take off hammering down the road singing U2's "streets have no name", basically the state anthem of montana. Montana topographically at this longitude if basically a long series of rolling, descending downhills for about 150 miles to the headwaters of the misouri river, and then 150 miles of ascending rollers up to the border. Foolishly, my crew takes the uphill.
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The missouri was beautiful as we crossed it at Fort Benton. A lone cyclist came and met us, and turns out he was the "water administrator" for the whole region. We talked for some time, and agreed to do a kayak trip out there one of these years along the lewis and clark trail, and the wild section of the missouri river. Sounds awesome, and it's in the "Lumpy queue" now!
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We cross the river, leap out of the RV, and start the climb out; meanwhile, the A crew is hammering the road to the river, with Gump, Festus, and Karen leading the way. They're on a mission, pushed by Cliff, to get to the river, and then chase us down before we get to the border. We, meanwhile, are hammering also, trying to see if we can make the border before they catch us. It's a race to the finish, and our average speed is way up today....lower elevation, good legs, good lungs, the end in sight, and a race unfolding (ED NOTE: Did I fail to mention that Marco took yet another wrong turn near Great Falls!). We're nearing the border, about 10 miles away, and off in the distance we see the RV bearing down at about 100mph on a farm road. Gill puts down and start riding with all she's got. The RV catches her at about 3 miles to the border, pats her on her butt, and pulls over a couple of miles ahead alongside us. We're waiting for her to get to us so we can all do the last mile together. And waiting. And waiting. Finally, Jerry sees her in the distance, walking her bike up a hill. She had flatted, had used her last tube, and had no communications to get to us. We went back and got put Karen on the road, and picked gill up. Karen was flying towards the border when Marco decides he has to go chase her (again, like Yellowstone wasn't enough) and takes off like a madman. We pull up to Karen and tell her the situation, and she starts sprinting to the border. John catches her, but then she whumps him and makes the border first. Girl power!
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Meanwhile, in what would become the story of the trip, the rest of us are waiting at the border crossing, a non-descript building in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Gill decides that she's going to go get a picture of the US...from canada...and promptly walks through the no-man's land into that foreign land. She's taking her picture when the canadian border guard runs out and is about to arrest her for entering the country without declararation. She explains the situation, that she was just taking a picture and had no intention to stay, and he relaxes. Then, when she tries to go back into the US, the canadian guard stops her again, and tells her that she has to get in queue behind the 4 vehicles for her exit declaration. So, she gets in line and waits her turn.
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Meanwhile, back in the motherland, the US border guard comes out of his booth and "informs" us that the border crossing closes at 5, and she'll be arrested if she tries to enter the country past that time...now again, picture this, it's basically a hut in the middle of an endless cornfield, but hey, homeland security is on our side! We ask him what we can do, and he says straight faced "might want to throw her over a sleeping bag, it gets pretty cold in that cornfield at night". Gill meanwhile is behind a truck loaded with farm products and mexican farmworkers, and the canadian authorities are giving them a going over big time. The clock ticks on down toward 5:00, and she's still waiting, has no clue that the US border is closing in 5 minutes, and we have no way to contact her. Meanwhile, the US border guards are packing up their belongings and closing up the outpost for the evening.
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She finally gets through canadian customs, and starts walking towards the US. We're screaming at her..."run, gill run"...she's waving back at us, again clueless as to the situation. It was like something out of an "I love lucy" show...and Gill promptly morphed into Lucy. As she gets closer, she finally picks up on our screams, and starts running towards us. I won't go into what a vision that was, and in her defense we did destroy all photo's of the event. She gets to the border at 5:01, as the guard is just locking up the door...civil service worker, 5:00 friday, off to bowl or pick corn or something. She starts pleading with him, and he takes pitty on her, and has to (I swear) call into HQ in washington DC to get approval to stay open 5 minutes late and allow re-entry to a US citizen. He gets the approval to stay open, and asks her for her papers (passport and license)...none of which she has of course, as she just basically jumped off the bike, grabbed her camera, and strode across the border. OK, NOW we've got an international incident. Some blonde CLAIMING to be a US citizen, with no papers, coming across the border in middle-of-a-freakin'-cornfield montana, at 5:01 on a friday evening. She was probably smuggling gatorade powder in a butt condom or something. Major situation, and he has to call into washington DC yet again to ask what to do. Of course, it's now 7pm on a friday night in washington DC, and nobody even answers the phone there, as they're all out celebrating "Sara Palin Day" (kinda like April Fool's day, without the april).
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Finally, he just gives up, say "just go through", locks up the outpost, and heads on off into cornville. We are elated, have a hearty laugh, take some border shots, and start the long drive back to phoenix.
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"Glad I stayed in the US" Lumpy out
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