I went to Winnipeg

I only had four days in Winnipeg, so I filled ’em to the max.  Baked Expectations for a Mocha Cake to die for (and so full of espresso it kept me awake three quarters of the night. That was unfortunate.). Brunch at Prairie 360 with a perfect omelet and an ever-changing view.  Book browsing and food eating at Prairie Ink Restaurant inside Canada’s largest independent bookstore.  Meandering and people watching at The Forks.  Paradise wandering at  The Conservatory inside Assiniboine Park (I remember the park name by thinking of “a Cinnabon”). Tea-drinking at the unique but slightly unsettling Neighborhood Bookstore.  I even drank a spectacular cup of coffee … and now can’t remember where I bought it.

My most spectacular adventure in Winnipeg, though, wasn’t even in Winnipeg.  With a free half-day, a full tank of gas, and a spirit of adventure, I decided a 90 minute drive was worth the reward of being another state closer to finishing the “All Fifty States” bucket list. Armed with the (completely truthful but slightly eccentric) tale of “trying to beat my Dad to all fifty states” and needing “only North Dakota, Alaska, Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island”  and knowing that I would be easily completing the four northeastern States later this year, I drove to the Manitoba-North Dakota border.

Problem: my rental car wasn’t technically allowed outside the country.
Solution: walk across the border.

Problem: we ain’t in Sumas any more and no one has ever walked across the border.
Solution: fake it ’til you make it.

I will spare you the boring details, but I very nearly found myself stranded between my two countries with a car parked at the Duty Free Store. Armed with all the proper documentation, the poor officials couldn’t quite grasp why on earth North Carolina girl living in British Columbia and visiting Manitoba would walk from one country to the other just to be able to technically say her feet had touched North Dakota soil.

Dad, if you plan a trip to Hawaii before I make it to Alaska, you better believe I will do anything to make sure I arrive to State #50 before you do.  The border guards at Emerson concur.