I only have a few minutes for a lot of catch-up, but I’ll do
my best. On Tuesday night the 30th of October I got a ride with my
brother from Brewer to Ellsworth where I spent the night at my grandmother’s
house and on Wednesday morning I rode with my great uncle and aunt Bob &
Rachel Chamberland to the border town of Lubec, Maine. I was on foot by noon
and walked five miles out to the West Quoddy Head lighthouse. It was dark by
the time I got to the border crossing. The first questions they asked me were
about my employment and housing, of which I have neither, but they still
completely unpacked my entire cart and searched everything before telling me
that my lack of job and home disqualified me from entry. After twenty minutes
of repacking my cart, I crossed back over the bridge to the Land of the Free.
The American Crossing guard said I could probably camp for the night on a small
park just down the road. It was drizzling and misty by the time I found a
seaside boardwalk along Mowry beach with a suitable spot for camp. It had been
quite a while since I’d eaten, so I ate several fistfuls of trail mix and a few
granola bars while some Ramen boiled. After a little reading I fell asleep to
the sound of the ocean surf and two distant foghorns calling back and forth to
each other. And the morning and the evening were the first day.
That's really numb. They made you unpack all your stuff just to tell you that you can't cross? I thought you just had to have a passport. You should have just told them you were from Bangor or whatever.
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