September 14 Back in the USA

We got in trouble once trying to enter the U.S. with an apple from Aruba. Lesson learned. Or maybe not. We suggest that you don’t try to bring any fresh food across the border to the U.S. Some things are allowed, some things are not, and the regulations are not made well-known. We haven’t eaten out much on this trip and we keep a good stock of groceries on board. We can now give you some definite no no’s. Peaches are allowed, by the way. Last night, we made a point of converting our peaches into peach cobbler. We should have made mashed potatoes and key lime pie instead.

First, we have this fancy card that is supposed to mark us as “trusted travelers.” We got Global Entry cards a couple of years ago to expedite international air travel. You apply, they do background checks, you appear for an in-person interview with a Homeland Security officer, fingerprints are taken, and you get a plastic card. I don’t know what it’s good for, really. Returning to the U.S. last February, we thought it was nice that we could use a special lane with no waiting time. You hold the card out in front of a camera, and everything you know about yourself and more comes up on the border patrol agent’s computer screen before you approach the booth. After this crabby woman yelled at me for not starting and stopping at the proper place at the proper time, I wondered what all those credentials were really worth.

We use Nexus lane again; there is no line. We drive up to the booth after the machine cleared us to do so. We both instantly recognize the same crabby woman we encountered seven months before. She really enjoys having that badge. After the usual questions, she starts asking about food. Jane starts going through the list. “That officer will tell you where to park. Take this paper into the building.” We are not very trusted travelers after all.

They take our passports and keys. This time, we are only detained 25 minutes. The agriculture protection agent comes in with a bag of fruit and vegetables that he had picked from our refrigerator. We’re not sure all that was taken, but we see potatoes, limes, bell peppers, and sliced apples. OK, I just want to eat bacon and potato chips, anyway.

With that hurdle behind us, we hurry off because we have a long drive to our campground in Olympic National Park. We are eager to set up camp and be ready for the arrival of Emily and Stuart who are driving separately to join us there and spend several days camping with us. Checking the map and studying the detour that we had been warned about, the drive down through Seattle and Tacoma and back up the other side of Pudget Sound looks daunting. We consider taking a shortcut using a ferry. Before diverting a long way off the main route, we pull over to check availability. There are no unreserved spaces on the next ferry for a rig our size. We keep driving. When they work on a highway in State of Washington, they just close the road down for miles. I think U.S. Highway 101 along the northern coast of the Olympic Peninsula was closed for maybe 50 miles. The detour was unreal. Two state roads that went through hills and woods and were not all paved. This probably added about 2 hours to the drive. The result was that we arrived at the campground just before dark. As we have said, it’s better than after dark. From the time we broke camp in Canada to the time we pulled into the campsite at Sol Duc Springs in Olympic Natl Park, we have traveled, including through some pretty remote stretches of road, over nine hours. Stuart and Emily have been driving independently. So, it seems miraculous when Stuart and Emily reach the ranger station at the entrance to the park right behind us! The little ranger station in this extreme northern area of the park is closed now. We get unhooked, back into the site at the very small campground, and start to unwind. It’s late, we are hungry and too tired to cook. The four of us walk across the bridge over the Sol Duc River to the small Sol Duc Hot Springs lodge and have a warm and delightful dinner.