Crossing The Line

The inside of the DHS building is exactly how you might imagine it to be. Bare stone grey walls with little emotion and slick, shiny polished floors (I assume to make the sweat and tears easier to clean). My goal in places like that is to have the best time ever. Not in an obnoxious way, just by being pleasant and engaging with sincerity, perhaps trying to tell a joke or make light of the situation. If doing so improves someone else's day, great. If the by-product gives us a better chance of crossing the border successfully, then why not?

We were greeted by a border agent at the desk who took us through the paperwork and payment for my $6 I-94 which I didn’t know I needed. Then he asked us all the standard questions which were a breeze too. You hear some horror stories about crossing borders occasionally, but in general I think as long as you’re polite, honest and respectful there aren’t any issues. I guess the people on the forums had been really unlucky. All we had to do was wait for a cursory check of the vehicle as is standard practice for anyone coming into the building. Nothing to worry about and we’d be on our way in no time.

Or so we thought.

Another border official arrived saying it seemed like we had wood in the vehicle. We agreed as we had planned to do some camping and brought firewood along with us. Little did we know that it is against the law to bring firewood over the border. “No problem” I said casually, “feel free to throw it out, there isn’t very much”. Unfortunately simply throwing it away is not an option. Which makes sense or the borders would be riddled with garbage and disallowed goods.

Our hearts began to sink when the realization hit us. We’d have to return to Canada to find somewhere to dispose of the wood and then come back to the border after. Not ideal when it was already 7pm and the queue to get across was getting longer by the minute. 

Heads low and feelings lower we wandered back to the car, escorted by the border officer. The officer opened a wide gate signposted for Canada and we pulled the car up. Maybe it was the  sense of despair, or maybe it was that we didn’t kick up a fuss about being rejected, or perhaps it was just intrigue; but just as we pulled up to the gate the officer asked to see the wood in question. I suppose he hadn’t seen it but it seemed a cruel joke to make us present the wood that caused all the problems. I obliged and opened up the box. Before I could even pull it up completely the officer's expression changed into a dumbfounded grin.

“Is it just 2x4s?” he asked. “Oh those are fine! Here let me close this gate and you can head into the states.”

We were absolutely shocked! It turns out  the people doing the car checks report to the more senior staff inside who don’t necessarily see the vehicle unless they have to. When we said it was firewood the senior staff naturally assumed it was wood collected from the forest so had no reason to review the wood for themselves. We could have saved yourself a lot of anxiety if we had said wood for fire, rather than firewood!

Once the muddle was cleared up we were on our way to Washington. Easy. Ish.

Notes to self

• Keep being polite and friendly, you never know when an ally will show up.
• Buy the $6 admin thing in advance and skip all the hassle and extra checks.