Plan. What plan?

One of my high school English teachers, Dr. Ian Naismith, a scot, tried valiently to teach an appreciation of Robert Burns in his native tongue. One of Burns' most famous lines concerns plans. In the original version the plans of mice and men "gang affak allay." We know it as the plan "goes oft astray." This photo is of a sculpture in the gardens surrounding the peace arch on the border between Canada and the United States in Blaine, Washington. The model for the sculpture was a man who believed he could plan a precise schedule for an epic coast to coast, border to border and back in a flash motorcycle trip.

My plan had been to be in Seattle on Sunday evening, May 20 for a run up to Blaine on Monday. As reported earlier, my excusion to the coast highway both scared and delayed me.

My next plan was to be in Seattle Monday evening for a run to Blaine on Tuesday to precede my turn to the east along Washington highway 20. I didn't get to Seattle Monday evening because I stopped in Portland to have dinner with my nephew Mike Bender. We hadn't visited in a few years, and it was nice to catch up with him. Mike is a pilot for a regional airline flying in the western states and Canada. We had a great time catching up on family, analyzing the failures of the administration with respect to airport security and theorizing that the Transportation Security Administration employees supplement their income by stealing from bags that can no longer be locked.

Mary and Ken had a large volume of souvenirs taken from their luggage when flying back to Seattle from a family reunion in Albuquerque two years ago. The theft could not possibly have been the responsibility of either airline they flew or the Transportation Security Administration they were told by representatives of each. If you believe that, you believe that personal security has been improved by hiring former Wal-Mart greeters to make you take your shoes off at the airport and keep the food vendors there in business.

Where was I? After dinner with Mike I tried to ride from Portland to Seattle, but nightfall and fatigue overcame me. I stopped for the night about 100 miles south of Seattle. After producing two blog entries I got to bed about 1:00 a.m. I was up at 5:00 and on the road after breakfast, about 6:30.

When I got to the home of Mary and Ken (Mary is my sister who identifies herself in her comments as "The Pretty One" and Ken is her husband) they suggested that rather than riding together to Blaine and then splitting up, we should ride to Blaine Tuesday and then back to their house. I could head east from their house on Wednesday morning. It didn't take much persuasion to amend the plan. Besides had I been in Seattle to ride to Blaine on Monday, it would have been a wet ride. As it was, Tuesday was chilly but otherwise a beautiful day.

As the photo shows, we made it to Blaine, got the requisite gas receipt, took a photo filled out my form and mailed it. At the gas station I had to go inside to get a receipt because the one from the pump failed to menition that the station was located in Blaine. Inside a man who I took to be the owener asked if I were participating in four corners. When I answered yes, he wanted to know which corners and where I was headed next. I was happy to answer that Blaine was third, and next I was going to Madawaska, Maine.

While in Blaine we visited the International Peace Garden and peace arch commerating 100 years of an open border between Canada and the United States. The start of the 100-year period was 1814 which coincides with the defeat of the British in the War of 1812.

The Canadian border had a much different feel than the Mexican border at San Ysidro. I saw only one member of the Border Patrol and he seemed to be guarding the parking lot of the peace garden. There were cameras mounted on poles providing an eye on the folks going about their business in the park. I didn't see any paddy wagons or traffic checkpoints. The only folks being questioned were those who trying to leave or trying to enter the country.

The peace arch and garden were beautiful. The vegetation was accompanied by sculptures. You've seen my favorite. The salmon carved in the redwood stump were subtle. At first you didn't see the fish. The sea horse was made out of horse shoes and other pieces of metal including fan blades and a truck wheel.

After our visit in the peace garden we headed back to Seattle on a back road that ran parallel to the border. No fence. No guard tower. No patrols. Just a small ditch and some cameras mounted on tall poles. It made an interesting contrast to our border with Mexico.

One final change of plan. I was going to ride east on U.S. highway 2, but I have learned that much of it is either in disrepair or under repair. My best option appears to be I-90. I had been complaining to Ken that I never could get the lights on the bike aimed so that they were useful on the highway after dark. Ken figured out where the adjustment screws were, and now I might be able to see on the road at night. I don't want to ride much at night, but my experience should be better than the last outing down on the coast road.

I warned Ambassador David Wilkins that I'm on the way to see him. If I have trouble getting into Canada I'm going to blame him.