“These dang GPS’s! Why would they take us all the way across the province in the opposite direction than we want to go? Just to be on a main highway all the way? We’re not afraid of secondary roads. We can go the way we went last time. We know the way to the border.”

These thoughts raced through my mind as we raced down Highway 7 from Saskatoon. Our destination was Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming and this was the shortest route to get there. Going the other way would add 2-3 hours to our already long travel time. We wanted to make it to Yellowstone this evening yet.

We traveled along enjoying the expansive fields of yellow-flowered canola plants. It was yellow as far as the eye could see. The going was good. The roads were good, the weather was good, our spirits were good, anticipating the fabulous sights of Yellowstone.

By dinner time we were approaching the Canada/US border. All had gone well so far, and we were very pleased with ourselves for having saved so much time. What did the GPS know about navigation? In the past it had led us to the back entrance of a cemetery, the delivery entrance for the Ark Encounter, and to open fields and mud holes to get to a wedding destination. It would say, “Your destination is one mile ahead.” But, you had to go through mud and an open field to get there. It was one mile ahead if you were a bird or a cow. At the cemetery you would have to jump the back gate gate which was locked. This GPS led us astray too many times. It was not always trustworthy.

As we approached the border crossing, we wondered which lane we should be in. Then we saw only one lane that was open, so we pulled up to the border crossing house to check in. We were asked the usual questions – where are you coming from? Where are you going? But they stopped there.

“I’m sorry but the US Border Crossing is closed on weekends.” The voice seemed surreal. What?! We went this way last time we were in Saskatchewan and I’m sure it was the weekend when we crossed before.

“You will have to find a crossing that is open and will be open by the time you get there.”

We frantically looked at the crossings online to see which was the closest and which would still be open when we got there. It looked like the best bet was to try to get to the crossing that was three hours away – three hours in the opposite direction from the route we needed to go to Yellowstone – and it was three hours until they closed for the night. We would just barely make it in time.

We moaned and scrambled to the car and headed east, even though we wanted to go west.

The scenery was the same. Now we were driving along country roads through miles and miles of “beautiful yellow fields of canola flowers.” Except, now the fields didn’t look so beautiful, and the miles and miles that you could see seemed to stretch on for all eternity. Was there no break in these disgusting fields?

We finally reached the border crossing with a few minutes to spare. We checked through the US side, declared honey we had bought for our entire family.

“There’s a restriction of 20 pounds of honey that can cross the border. Do you have more than 20 pounds?”

I scoured my mind to remember how much we bought. Now, what we bought, was that in pounds or was that in kilograms? Do I have to convert what I think I have into pounds and thus putting it over the limit?

No, I remembered, we bought four 3-pound tubs of honey. That only comes to 12 pounds. We’re safe on that count. He didn’t want to bother to count the tubs. He took our word for it. If he counted, he would have to fill out paperwork, and he didn’t want to do that!

Would they count all the boxes of salt & vinegar, and ketchup potato chips that our family loves so well, too? No. No restrictions on potato chips. Whew!

“Ok. To get to Yellowstone from here you want to go straight south and hit I94 just past Miles City and then head west. But, between here and Miles City, don’t stop for anything. Don’t get out of your vehicle for anything. Just keep on going.” That’s all he said and sent us on our way with “Have to good day!”

As we drove, thoughts kept tumbling through my head.

“OK. So, if we would’ve followed the GPS this time we would have reached this crossing hours before and we would have almost been at Yellowstone. Now, we’ll probably have to stop in Miles City for the night.”

“Why the warning about not getting out of our vehicle for anything?” Then I started thinking about the area of the country we were in – north central Montana. I looked at the map and we were going straight through the middle of an Indian Reservation during evening hours; it was beginning to get dark. They must have been having trouble in the area for the border patrol to warn us like that. I held my breath as we drove on. By the time we hit Miles City it was dark, but we were safe.

What lay ahead for us as we approached Yellowstone was totally unexpected.