The after effects of our previous night’s activities led us to the decision that a little extra sleep in the morning wouldn’t be such a bad idea. After all, we wanted to look our best for our friends at border patrol. Upon heading back down the gunflint trail and traveling north up 61, we were able to catch brunch at the unique Naniboujou Lodge. A very interesting place I might add. Soon after my brother and I had almost put them out of business by taking full advantage of their all you can eat buffet, we were pulling up to the customs office. It turned out to be the American office but we proceeded to enter anyway. It was here that we would have first glimpse at America’s new policies toward border patrol in the post-9/11 era. After explaining our intentions, we were informed that in addition to needing a RABC permit to get into Canada, we would also need to go through the process of obtaining a permit to get back into the US (Finger print scan, photo, and a $16 fee per person). Since when does a US citizen need to pay money to get back into his or her own country?!!! I wanted to head for the exit, but it was too late, we were committed now, we would have to surrender to agent Larson’s terms.

At the Canadian customs office we were met with similar protocol plus 3 hours of waiting time in which we exhausted the office’s limited reading supply including pamphlets outlining the steps to take if you were crossing the border with over $10,000(somehow I don’t think my family would ever need to know this). We were entertained/felt sorry when a Winnebago was searched and the couple was forced to carry their firewood log by log to the dumpster in order to prevent the spread of organisms into Canada. Somehow during all of this we were successful in obtaining our permits and after a long day of dealing with bureaucracy I much looked forward to a ribs dinner at the gunflint trail-center. This is by far one of my favorite restaurants due to its rich northwood’s mystique, local feel, and the many happy memories I have gathered while in its walls during my few visits to the North Country. As we sip our beers out of chilled mason jars and examine the pictures on each of the custom menus we can’t help but notice a fleet of mosquitoes assembling one by one on the window screen. Tomorrow night we will not have such a man-made luxury.