Crossing the border was exhausting. There was a bridge to cross over the water into Ontario (one of three connecting Michigan to Canada). At first I was told I'd probably be turned away. Then I was told that it was fine. Then I was told to wait. It was all very weird. Eventually an officer drove me over the bridge. It all seemed a little unnecessary as there was a perfectly good pedestrian path going alongside the length of the bridge, but I was told that pedestrians were not allowed to travel it, not since 9/11.

Once IN Canada, border patrol searched my entire bike and all my bags, pulling out my food, first aid kit, tent, and everything else, searching it all rather thoroughly. It seemed all so weird--searching me, a kid on a bike, so diligently and invasively, as countless cars cruised by with barely a glance. But apparently I passed muster and they didn't find anything too bad. They did, however, confiscate the pepper spray that a lovely woman had given me at the Mississippi River for my own protection. But this was fine with me; I didn't really like traveling with it anyway but did so out of respect for the gift.

Canada was strange. The first things I noticed were how slippery their money is and also that there was a Walmart with a McDonald's in it.

I spent the rest of the day watching the new Mission Impossible film.