Antler, North Dakota
Okay, since you asked, I decided to visit Canada.
Leaving Beans back in the RV because she doesn’t have a passport I went for a walk following the camp road around that water tank and...
...came out to this intersection on the road we came in on.
Next I walked north through that grove of trees.
I came out the other side and saw the backside of two signs.
There it was, the border less than a half a mile walk.
This sign looked as if it had been here for nearly a hundred years.
On the opposite side of the dirt track was the Canadian sign, newer but in worse shape. The lettering was so small, faded and peeling it was nearly impossible to read. The left part is in English and the right half in French. The birds crapped only on the English half. Must be trying to send us a message of some sort.
Looking east and...
...looking west. The white building in the distance is the US border inspection point. The Canadian post is behind the trees on the right.
Now this got me to thinking: just how wide is an international border line? Is it the line the US farmer’s barbed wire fence on the left where the two signs were pounded into the ground, or is it the Canadian rancher’s electrified fence to the right? Or is it the entire wide swath of cut grass or just a narrow line down the middle? Just how wide is a border line? I think too much.
Here you can see where I am standing and notice the pink line, the border line.
Looks to be on top of the US farmer’s fence but I’ve grown to distrust Google’s map images lately.
Hmm...what country am I standing in?
A Canadian farm house.
A Canadian tree.
So I wanted a little souvenir of my visit to Canada. Maybe a little rock. That would be nice. I walked up and down the wide swath of cut grass. You think I could find a rock? There wasn’t even a pebble to be found in that thick prairie grass! I was getting frustrated. I decided to become an illegal alien. I slipped under the rancher’s electrified fence into Canada.
An old automobile undercarriage, upside down.
That’s how old this car or truck was.
Some type of horse drawn farming equipment.
This one was even more complicated and offered up no loose parts for the taking.
The roof to the collapsed shack.
No joke. That building in the distance indeed was someone’s home. Fooled me.
I still had no souvenir. Throughly disappointed I started back for America. I slipped under the electrified fence, crossed no man’s land and walked back into America. No passport, no immunization papers, no secret password required. Only in a perfect world.
I always wondered about bee boxes. I see them all the time traveling. I decided to investigate.
How the heck do the bees get in?
Finally I noticed this at the bottom box. There is a very small gap there. I guess it is open top and bottom of all the in between boxes. Just another thing I have to look up along with how wide borders are.
If you look closely in the left track you can see that same critter that I didn’t what it was. I was coming back through the grove of trees and here he was coming straight for me not having a clue I was there. As I went to pull my camera out from my pocket he then stopped, looked, had a what the? moment, turned around and waddled back.
Based on the responses of the previous post I went back and looked at marmots again. I refined the search to yellow bellied marmot and then saw the mask on that variety.
So we’ll call it a yellow bellied marmot which does live in this area.
So much for visiting Canada.