Sept. 24th
Crossing the American border was a lot easy than expected. Apparently terrorists don’t ride bicycles. Even so, I did get a cardio workout just standing there. As it turned out, we had only 5 minutes to ketch the last ferry of the evening and silly Ray couldn’t find his passport buried in his 4 bicycle bags. After the sweat formed on my brow, I finally found it. Needless to say, I know where my passport is now.
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