Got Kicked to the Curb at the Border

[Yardbird]

I've been to Canada, Japan and Korea. I was in the Navy and never had any problems. Of the 3 Canada is by far the nicest. I doubt I'll ever leave the United States again. I Don't need to go anywhere else because the United States has everything that I need. After hearing the horror stories it just reaffirms that idea. Sorry to hear that it ruined your trip. Just wish I could of been there to hear you giving them hell!!!!

[Kintore]

Its so different for me, when my father and I went to TF, they never searched us. They asked what we were doing, said going a 3wheeler gathering, they asked what was in the trailer, a 3wheeler(didnt even have to show insurance or proof of ownership, they didnt ask us if we were going to sell it either) Like no hassle at all, "Have a nice time" thats all both borders said. Weird.

[Trikeaholic]

yea, I have never had a problem at all. Basically they just wave us through. That would stink getting all searched like that. Too bad.

[foster]

I've crossed many, many times into the *.S. and back without troubles.
Sometimes, though, your number comes up.

I was with a bunch of guys crossing from Vancouver into Blaine, Wash, where all the Vancouverites go to party late at night. Pretty routine, or so I was told. The US border guards are quite used to all the Vancouver residents crossing into Blaine because the bars are open later. Again, 'so I was told.'

As we get closer to the border, I notice my two buddies, let's call them the Jones brothers Rick and Dan, start getting noticeably nervous, and it's not just because we got a great big resident of Papua New Guinea in the backseat who has no right to go into the *.S. (He had working-visitor status in Canada, which is cool for here, but not much use to you in the Excited States of America.)

So we get to the border and the patrol guy looks at us and doesn't like what he sees, eight red eyes and four mouths all stinking of beer. He asks us to all grab our IDs and come into the office.

We all go into the office and a big guard says, "Let's see some papers, boys." All four of us toss our IDs on the counter and the big galloot goes over to his computer and starts punching in our names, whereupon Rick Jones, one of the aforementioned Jones brothers, starts slooooowly backing up towards the door, every so quietly. He gets to the door, slips it quietly open, steps outside and runs like a S.O.B. back to Canada.

Meanwhile, the big guard is busy at his computer and doesn't notice that there are now only three of us, instead of four. He punches in Rick's name and you can see his eyebrows arch up. He walks back to the counter, pounding his feet.

"Which one of you is Rick Jones?" he demands.
No one answers and the dumb **** still hasn't noticed that one of us is now AWOL.
"Which one of you is Rick Jones?" he demands, even louder.
No response.
"Which one of you guys gave me the ID for Rick Jones?" he tries again.
No answer. So he looks at the IDs again and notices Danny Jones has the same last name and same address as Rick Jones.
"Which one of you is Danny Jones?" he booms.
Dan raises his hand.
"Then who in the **** is Rick Jones who lives at your same address?"
Dan just looks at the floor and shuffles his feet.
"I dunno," he says.
The guard takes all our IDs and throws them on the counter towards us.
"I think maybe you fellas better get back in your car and make a quick *-turn and don't ever come back."
We picked up our IDs: "Yes, sir," we said.
Heading back into Canada, we soon picked up Rick about two miles up the road, out of breath and all covered in sweat.
That was about 30 years ago. To this day I'm still friends with Rick and Dan, but I have no idea what their border issues are. They still won't tell me.

[jeswinehart]

I've crossed many, many times into the *.S. and back without troubles.
Sometimes, though, your number comes up.

I was with a bunch of guys crossing from Vancouver into Blaine, Wash, where all the Vancouverites go to party late at night. Pretty routine, or so I was told. The US border guards are quite used to all the Vancouver residents crossing into Blaine because the bars are open later. Again, 'so I was told.'

As we get closer to the border, I notice my two buddies, let's call them the Jones brothers Rick and Dan, start getting noticeably nervous, and it's not just because we got a great big resident of Papua New Guinea in the backseat who has no right to go into the *.S. (He had working-visitor status in Canada, which is cool for here, but not much use to you in the Excited States of America.)

So we get to the border and the patrol guy looks at us and doesn't like what he sees, eight red eyes and four mouths all stinking of beer. He asks us to all grab our IDs and come into the office.

We all go into the office and a big guard says, "Let's see some papers, boys." All four of us toss our IDs on the counter and the big galloot goes over to his computer and starts punching in our names, whereupon Rick Jones, one of the aforementioned Jones brothers, starts slooooowly backing up towards the door, every so quietly. He gets to the door, slips it quietly open, steps outside and runs like a S.O.B. back to Canada.

Meanwhile, the big guard is busy at his computer and doesn't notice that there are now only three of us, instead of four. He punches in Rick's name and you can see his eyebrows arch up. He walks back to the counter, pounding his feet.

"Which one of you is Rick Jones?" he demands.
No one answers and the dumb **** still hasn't noticed that one of us is now AWOL.
"Which one of you is Rick Jones?" he demands, even louder.
No response.
"Which one of you guys gave me the ID for Rick Jones?" he tries again.
No answer. So he looks at the IDs again and notices Danny Jones has the same last name and same address as Rick Jones.
"Which one of you is Danny Jones?" he booms.
Dan raises his hand.
"Then who in the **** is Rick Jones who lives at your same address?"
Dan just looks at the floor and shuffles his feet.
"I dunno," he says.
The guard takes all our IDs and throws them on the counter towards us.
"I think maybe you fellas better get back in your car and make a quick *-turn and don't ever come back."
We picked up our IDs: "Yes, sir," we said.
Heading back into Canada, we soon picked up Rick about two miles up the road, out of breath and all covered in sweat.
That was about 30 years ago. To this day I'm still friends with Rick and Dan, but I have no idea what their border issues are. They still won't tell me.

OH MY GOD ,,, i read this about 2 hours ago Foster and have not had it off my mind since. Just dam funny it is !
i think since we from both borders and a few more know each other here and trade back and forth on ebay ,,, well it works both ways.
that story brings it all to home my friend ,,, funny as hell to me. kinda reminds me of a pair of brothers from ohio ( w/o naming names of course )

great story man !@ john

[hrc85250r]

a couple years ago me and 3 friends were going to an OLP concert in ottawa, and we took his moms van which was a basically new awd safari, we packed to stay avernight in kanata, which is where the corel centre is....well, we got completeley torn apart the there, they actually left one of my buddies porn mags all over the back seat, lol....and they took the dogs into it on the way back.....pretty stupid....but they are just doing their job...one of them inside when he was checking our wallets asked me repeatedly if i was on ecstasy or had any pills or anything or if i was on anything, and didnt ask my buddys at all....they busted on me about that for a while, but it was hard for me to not laugh when he was asking me...they can be a-holes, but remember in the state police training in NY ive heard they train you to be a hard ass...so i take it the border patrol goes through the same....

[Meat-BoX]

The wife and I are going to the Canadien Consolet tomorrow at 5 am to get there 1st. She is a Dual Citizen. Canadien Born and she came to America like 20 years ago. I havnt been in trouble in 15 years and the wording on the paperwork stated that if not arrested in 10 years you dont have to fill out the form. But then they say its up to the Jerk that grills ya and tells you that you Drivers Liscense, Social Security Card and my Credit Cards do mean squat because they could be fake. He wanted Birth Certifacits which are real easy to get a fake one. He was just an ass and pulled his Machismo act on me.

I hope all goes well at the Consolet tomorrow and this all gets squashed for good. I plan on starting a ATV/Dual Sport tour company Business up there and move there but if I cant get past the border, My dreams are ruined.

[foster]

Hey John, you shudda been there!

Nowadays, since that infamous day, things are different. They likely would have just thrown us in Guantanamo Bay these days -- just the way it is nowadays.
Sad. We are supposed to be trusted friends but these are different times and we both must be careful, I suppose.

In 2001, I did a 1,000 km solo snowmobile trip around New Brunswick (nd I mean ALL around N.B.) and when I hit St.-Leonard I slipped across the frozen river that forms our common border on my Polaris Indy Sport 440 and rode right up to the border guard station.
"What is your purpose for entering the United States," the macho guard said.
I pointed to a gas station within sight of the station.
"This is my girlfriend's snowmobile, and she loves Diet Dr. Pepper, and we can't get that in N.B., and since she lent me her snowmobile for this big trip, I thought I'd pop over and get her some," I said.
I got the third degree, and that's fine, although I noted that all the other snowmobile tracks led AWAY from the border patrol station, and not TO it. I pointed that out to the border guard, how I had rode right to them while the evidence seemed to indicate that others didnt' do the same.
No matter.
"Have you ever been in a court of law?" he asked.
"Yes, many times," I said.
That perks his ears up, pronto!
"I was a law reporter for a newspaper for about five years."
That seemed to shut him up for a second, but only for a second.
"What is your purpose in entering the United States?" he asked.
My response was straightforward, "My purpose is to go to that store right over there," I said, pointing to the nearest store that I thought carried Diet Dr. Pepper, "and get me a case of Diet Dr. Pepper."
A voice came out of the back office: "Diet Dr. Pepper! What the hell for!"
It was the bad cop's "good cop" partner, whose sister lived in NB and also loved Diet Dr. Pepper and sent folks over the border to fetch it.
After that, we had a great conversation. The "bad cop's" hands came off his hips, and he relaxed, almost smiled. They even let me ride my sled right into the downtown of Van Buren to get my treasured Diet Dr. Pepper! Seriously, I snowmobiled right into the downtown and parked in a downtown parking spot, right next to the cars and trucks.

Two things: he never asked me if I had a criminal record, and if he had have, I would have lied.
The second thing: they now brew Diet Dr. Pepper in my hometown, so screw him and the horse he rode in on.
Nice big-brimmed hat, though.

[straight pipe]

the border battle is a tough one.i live and work a few miles from the us/canada line and the politics involved with that division is sickening. i have never had to much trouble at the line but i know a few have.the relationship between our countries is deteriorating. something went wrong between 911 and bse. sorry to say both our leaders are shitheads.our leader legalized gay marriage and redefined gods definition of that union and takes great pleasure in taxing us to poverty, and than there'a bush......well until we give the boot to these sort of loosers we will see the border getting worse.now the us wants to implement passports when you enter the usa and then canada followed up and said well we'll require the same.i heard a comment about the border being tight because of threat of terorist crossing like really ....a real terrorist would simply walk accross the border at dark, there are no fences just walk or drive accross...it's that easy