Brampton – New York State

So I was heading off on the Tuesday rather than the Sunday, but that was ok, as I could just alter the route slightly, with a bit less rest time at the start. The only real date I need to make is the ferry to Newfoundland on the 28^th, other than that I’m in the wind.

I’d bolted on my new licence plate the night before, so was all set to go first thing. My Uncle had gone out though, so with the cousins all gone to Ottawa I got to spend some time with my Aunt, just chatting and seeing her relax again after the wedding was over and everyone heading home. When my uncle came back we went to a diner for breakfast, then I headed off about 11am.

So, with a late start I just had to negotiate my way around Toronto, then head along the side of lake Ontario up until the border with the US at Cornwall. It looked ok on the map, but the heat was insane, over 30C, and that was the main challenge for the day. A long motorway run can be quite boring on a bike, but this time was fun as I got to see all the different care and pickups that they have over here.

A slightly worrying thing was that the fuel light came on way before I expected it to, after around 140kms, when the spec suggested the bike should be good for around 270km. That suggested the light came on with around 1.5 gallons still remaining which seemed odd. I was using more fuel as I ran along about 75mph, and the bike does have a large windshield which would affect things, but I didn’t think it would be this much. My big worry is that the fuel tank has been changed for the smaller one from the V30, because if that has happened I won’t have the fuel to do the Translabrador highway leg that I’ve been thinking about, even with the extra fuel bags I’m carrying.

More on this later.

I made it to the border around 6pm, thinking I’d just lay up for the night and cross in the morning, but it’s a 24 hour border crossing, so I was swithering about doing it that night. In the end I rode straight into a barrier on the Canadian side, paid the $3.25 fee and was heading across before I could do much about it.

The US side was much harder. I rode up to the booth so I could get to my passport which was in a bag strapped to the bike. The guard asked me to take the helmet off, then seemed very surprised that a UK national could have a Canadian bike registered in their name. He took my document pouch and had a good look through everything, but I could already tell where this was going. Sure enough he called for back up and a lady came out to collect me and my documents for further review inside the main office. She couldn’t ride the bike so I had to move it to a parking area. This made them very nervous as I could just have made al run for it, albeit without my passport and everything else. When I parked the bike up I had to surrender the key and was told to leave my helmet outside.

I had an initial chat with a guy where I explained that yes the bike was mine, I was just passing through on holiday and that I did indeed live in Scotland. All this seemed ok, then they found the visa for Pakistan in my passport and things became a bit cagey again. I’d explained it was for a bike trip and I’d never actually gotten there, though I had made it to India and Nepal.

This then resulted in three or four border officers going through all my documents again, passport, driving licence, route plan, travel insurance, bike insurance, bike ownership details, the works.

Fortunately none of them realised that my bike insurance wasn’t actually valid until the following day.

I was asked to sit on a bench while they had a discussion, and as I was walking to it, I looked out to check that the bike and the helmet were ok. At this point I’d swear the guard they had on the door moved his hand to cover his gun, as if he was worried I was going to make a run for it. I’d only seen him from the corner of my eye, and really didn’t want to look over as I’d have been hard pressed to take him seriously after that.

Other than the obvious novelty of me riding a Canadian bike I think the problem related to the trip I’d made to the States last year. I’d had my photograph and fingerprints taken in San Francisco, but they couldn’t seem to find any record of them.

Eventually the discussion ended and I was called over, finally allowed to enter formally after an hour or so in the office. The guards were perfectly professional and polite throughout, even the possible Dirty Harry guy, and one of them suggested the nearest hotel along my route, and that it had a Casino next door. The area around here is full of Indian reservations so they get around the gambling laws, but in the end it was full and I had to ride to the next town.

An important point to note here is that the speed limits and distances are in mph and miles respectively, which threw me. I’d been expecting kilometres as in Canada, so the locals were flying past me.

Quite a long day as it turned out, a little over 500kms, and one dodgy border crossing with no insurance.