The kingston Bicycle festival is a one week bike party in Kingston Ontario, about 190 miles north of where I live in Ithaca Ny. The festival also hosts this years Metro Jam, where several of my friends were working and competing in. Cool, lets go to Canada and check it out.
My friend Joe was visiting from Philly, so we loaded up his Buick with our gear, and headed north. Myself, Big Job and Snake, with Joe driving and 4 bikes hanging out of the trunk. Classic.
In the 3 hour drive, I took the time to explain the specifics to Joe, so he could get us through the border without hassles…. Where we were headed, what hotel, etc.
By the time we cross the seaway, and scope the thousand islands, we soon roll in up to border patrol, where nervous Joe crumbles under the hard questioning agent. The agent directs us to customs, for further questioning, where several agents come out and search the car. We were waiting inside when a red faced, huffy blonde man, in a very stern tone, orders us to come out to the car. Our shit is strewn all over the road, and I am picked out of the bunch, as the first suspect to be questioned. I guess I looked the shittiest, Dirty jeans, and bad tattoos. It’s no fun being profiled, let me tell you….
The red faced officer, certain we were smuggling drugs, starts asking me where the drugs are, and the such, to which I reply, “there are no drugs, I don’t even do drugs…”. There was no possible way in this officer’s mind, that someone like me WAS NOT a drug user, and he pushed further. Sweet.
After further rummaging, he found rolling papers and a lighter in snakes back pack. In Ny a pack of cigarettes is like 7 bucks, a bag of Bali Shag or Drum is a fraction of that. At this point, the agent puts a flake of “drugs” in a ziploc bag and scurries off the do a “field test”.
Even the most burnt out potheads in America know better than try to cross an international border with weed, let alone in a car filled with heathens and 4 bikes hanging out of the trunk. Further more, I would venture to say the marijuana laws are more lax in Canada anyhow, it’s be like bringing sand to the beach.
In what was described as a “miniscule amount of illegal drug residue”, the red faced officer then dragged us in for further questioning. Into an interrogation room, one by one, we were read our “rights”,
and verbally accosted. A “miniscule amount of illegal drug residue” is not to be taken lightly at an international border I was told, and then I was strip searched. I am a grown ass man, standing naked as a jaybird in front of 2 canadian counterparts to Elliot Ness. Awesome. When I started to get dressed, I was asked if I had any questions, after they acknowledged I was clean, and said ” OK eh, not your drugs, not your problem…eh”. Bullshit. I Told the two officers, i didn’t buy their story about the “miniscule amount of illegal drug residue”, and asked to see it. They stared at me blankly and ushered out of the room.
I guess they weren’t going to find the motherload they were convinced we were smuggling, and just maybe we’d get to the metro jam
After 2 and half hours of this nonsense, and after checking our profiles on the NCIC database, Big Job and I were given applications for entry to Canada, this is basically standard procedure for anyone who has ever been arrested, so they can formalize being pricks to anyone with a history. The officers call Big Job and I aside once more, to which we were given our papers.
“ok Mr. Crandall, for the charges of ‘ ________’ in 1998, you are denied access to Canada for 10 years” Stoked!
“Mr. Collins, for your charge A- 5 years no admittance, and for charge B, you are never allowed into Canada by law…”
So after about 3 hours we are finally asked to leave canada, and to top it off, Big Job is excommunicated (sans catholicism) for Life plus 5 years….Amazing.
They never found drugs, although there was a Nice Brand Hemp Pivotal in the car…After Big Job kicks the bucket, we are going to freeze his corpse for 5 years, and re live Weekend At Bernies” in Montreal!
Originally Posted by Steve crandall