The Candian Rockies rained on us. We had planned on hiking upto grande vistas and enjoiyng the last days of summer. When the mountain tops emmerged from the thick mess of fog, it was indeed beautiful. Unfortunately, we ended up pushing through pretty quickly because we could not a bare another noght of soggy slumber. We did make it to a pretty cool hot spring, which is always a pleasant rainy day activity.
This was the point at which “Operation Rainbow Bridge” crumbled. We made the hasty decision to dip down, exiting “America’s Hat,” and enter Montana. At Border control this time, we had a little snarl. They officer asked us to open our trunk. Our trunk was full of beautiful, but travel weary houseplants. When asked to pull over to the side of the road and please come into the office, my knees went week. Would this be the end of our trusted green friends? We had made it this far, but it wasn’t looking good. I put on my most innocent face and held my breath as the officer poked and prodded through our car. We explained that they had come from The States, not Canada, and that we had nooooo idea this was considered smuggling. He shook his finger at us and told us this was our lucky day, He would let us into the country, but admonished that we best not ever try to do something like this again.