Sunday Drive Flashback

When we drove up to the Soo for breakfast last weekend, I was reminded of a similar Sunday drive Dan and I took about two and a half years ago. It was early spring, and although there were still traces of snow, it was a dazzlingly beautiful day. Oddly enough, just like last week, we had no sooner reached Sault Ste. Marie than heavy clouds moved in. (What is it about that town that just seems to attract bad weather?)

However, still game, we couldn't resist a little side-trip into Canada. We'd always wanted to visit Wawa. The hint of spring in the air was all the excuse we needed to go exploring.

So, for your reading pleasure from the original "Aunt Robin's Story Hour" archives, here is an excerpt from that entry.

Enjoy!

~ Robin

March, 2007

...Further down the long, winding road north, we discovered that Wawa is an astonishingly small, picturesque settlement sheltered by towering granite hillsides and a pretty lake dotted with colorful ice fishing shanties. I even found their radio station on our dial, although its Francophone commentary was a little hard to follow.

Most notably, they have a goose—a really BIG goose. We had heard that it’s good luck to kiss the goose in Wawa. Unfortunately, the snow surrounding the goose was still so deep, we couldn’t get near it.

The goose in Wawa, Ontario
March, 2007

Umm, I hope that not kissing the goose is bad luck….

It was very late afternoon by the time we approached U.S. customs, preparing to re-enter the United States at Sault Ste. Marie and head home. There you can see, firsthand, your homeland security $$$$ hard at work. Parabolic listening devices eavesdrop on your conversations as you approach the border. Bomb detecting, radiation sniffing devices surround your vehicle; cameras photograph you and your car (front and rear).

I don’t care how righteous you are; even a perfect saint would wonder if he’s guilty of some transgression as he cautiously pulls ahead to face the customs officer behind the bullet-proof glass.

As we wait our turn behind a short queue of vehicles, I suddenly remember we're driving my father's truck while our car is in the shop for repairs. This could be a problem....

"Dan! We're in Dad's truck!"

"So?"

"Dan, think about it. This is Dad's truck!"

He's quiet for a moment then goes pale as he begins to comprehend the implications.

My father is a retired career military man with strong militia... uh, sympathies. Now Dan and I were both wondering what kind of illegal arsenal he could have stashed behind the seat. Good lord, there could be enough firepower back there to arm a small, third-world nation. I fear I may wet my pants. No kidding.

Too late to turn and run for our lives, the customs official motions for us to approach his booth. One look at his stony, dour-faced countenance, and we're pretty sure he doesn't moonlight as a member of the local Welcome Wagon.

“May I see your driver’s licenses, please?”

(Note: Although this is phrased as a question, it is actually a command.)

Dan and I dutifully pass our I.D. cards through the window to him.

“Where are you from?” he asks, though we know he can clearly read our address on the licenses.

“Carp Lake, Michigan,” we respond in unison. Damn! I knew we should have kissed that darn goose....

“How long were you in Canada?”

“About six hours... sir.”

“What was your business in Canada?”

“We were out for a Sunday drive, sir.”

“Do you take your Sunday drive in Canada often?”

“Our daughter attended college here in the Soo. So, yes, we travel into Canada fairly often, sir.”

“Is her name Jamie?”

Our jaws drop.

“Whoa! You homeland security boys are goooood!” I couldn’t resist commending him.

Suddenly, Godzilla gets a cute little grin—complete with dimples—as he confesses, “I used to date her roommate.”

Wooooowooooooo! I think God—or maybe the goose—had just handed us a great, big, get-out-of-jail-free card.

~Aunt Robin