If you’ve been following all of my recent posts, you have probably read about my trip with my brother Craig and his wife to Washington, DC, and to New York City to see the Statue of Liberty. And if you read that post, you probably read how we were armed to the teeth just in case we ran into trouble while driving through the vast metropolis that is New York City. I didn’t go into any great detail to describe those weapons because there was no need to go into an extraordinary amount of detail. As an old friend of mine once said, “There was no need to state the painfully obvious because the merely obvious would do.” Stay tuned ladies and gentlemen, because today I’m going to finish the story. Oh yes. There is an end to the story. In that other post, I mentioned that there were three destinations. The first destination was Washington, DC. The second destination was the Statue of Liberty in New York City. And the third destination was Niagara Falls. However, I did not speak of Niagara Falls in that post. Today I’m going to conclude the journey. If you recall, we had stopped for the evening after we had cleared New York City. The next morning, we maneuvered over to Interstate 86 West headed toward Binghamton, New York. At Binghamton, we turned north toward Syracuse, New York. After we went through Syracuse, we merged left onto Interstate 90 West toward Buffalo, New York. Once we got near Buffalo, we just followed the signs that directed us to Niagara Falls. I convinced my brother to go to the Canadian side of the falls because it was the better view. I had been on both sides of the falls on previous trips, and I thought that the Canadian side offered the best view. Since I had been there previously, my brother trusted my experience and went with my choice. As a result, we opted to go to the Canadian side. Perhaps, in this particular instance, that might not have been the best choice. Here’s why. I forgot one minor little detail. And the devil is in the details. I forgot about my guns. Oh. They were all out of plain view. And my brother and I gave the good inspectors at the border crossing absolutely no reason to question us. Cuz, after all, we were both good, honest, upstanding young men. We were clean-cut, shaven, and well groomed. We looked like law-abiding citizens. As soon as we approached the guard shack, the Canadian Mountie asked me for my driver’s license and passport. Well, I’m U.S. military. So, I handed him my military ID and my driver’s license. He looked at me and he said, “So, you’re a Captain in the U.S. Army, huh?” I replied, “You figured that out all by yourself, huh?” “Nope. Actually, I had to read your ID card first.” “Oh. I see. You cheated, huh?” “Yes sir.” “Well, I guess I’ll let that slide.” “What brings you to Canada?” “Well, my brother, here, and his wife have never seen Niagara Falls before. And I told them that the Canadian side was the best side to view the falls from.” “A lot of people say that. Say, you wouldn’t happen to have any weapons with you, would you?” “Why do you ask?” “Well, something sorta like a gun or two or three or more, showed up on our scanner. That’s why I’m asking.” “Oh. I see. Well, now that I think about it, there might be one or two back there. My brother and I were on a hunting trip just before we came up here. I may not have taken the guns out before we came up.” “I’ll tell you what. You just go ahead and pull through the gate here and right over there to that building. And two of our inspectors will meet you to inventory those guns so that we can take possession of them while you’re at the falls. And you can swing back by here to pick them up when you’re leaving to go back across the border. Okay?” “Sure thing, chief.” So, I pulled the van through the gate and over to the information building at the falls. Two Canadian Mountie inspectors came out to meet me and inventory my guns. I started taking them out one by one. First, I took out my .300 Magnum rifle. Second, I took out my Remington .243 caliber rifle. Third, I took out my Marlin . 22 caliber rifle. Fourth, I took out my Savage 12-gauge shotgun. Fifth, I took out my Remington model 1911 .45 caliber pistol. Sixth, I took out my Taurus, .357 Magnum revolver. Finally, I took out my Remington .22 caliber revolver. When the inspectors saw all of my guns as I was laying them out on the counter to be inventoried, their eyes got as big as nine-inch saucers. They literally had googly eyes. I seriously thought they were going to lose it. The senior agent started asking a bunch of questions. I should qualify my phrase about the senior agent with a bit of a description. She was a little bitty thing. If she was five feet tall, that was it. She was not an inch taller. But she was as cute as a Barbie doll. And I am quite certain she had never seen an arsenal like mine before. Although at that time, my arsenal was quite small. Seven guns is chump change compared to the 21-gun arsenal I have today. But as I said, she started firing away questions. Her first question was, “Why do you need so many guns.” My answer was simple, “Well, they all serve different purposes.” She asked about the .300 Magnum. “What is this one for?” “Well, you see that one gives me standoff range.” “Standoff range?” “Yeah. You know. Standoff range is where you stand way the hell off over there about a mile away and shoot something way the hell over here. That’s standoff range.” “Oh. I see. Well, what’s this other rifle for, then?” “That’s a good question. That right there is a .243 caliber rifle. It is designed for smaller critters like small deer and wild pigs. You know. That sort of thing. That gun won’t blow smaller critters away. See that .300 Magnum. That right there causes what I call collateral damage. It blows shit away. If you hit a small animal at close range with that thing, it’ll virtually explode. I’ve seen it happen.” “Oh wow. Okay, how about this small rifle?” “Oh, the .22? Well, that you use for really small critters and varmints like rabbits and such.” “Okay. Then, why do you need one of these?” (She was holding up my shotgun.) “Well, that right there will spray a target area for a short distance downrange. It provides you the best means of putting a whole bunch of stopping power in a wide area in the least amount of time. It’s excellent for hunting in the brush or for protection in the dark.” “What about this pistol?” “That pistol is a .45 caliber. The beauty of a .45 caliber round is that it knocks down your target, and your target does not get back up.” “How about this revolver? If that .45 is so powerful, why do you need this?” “Excellent question. See, this is a .357 Magnum. With the right ammunition, this weapon will penetrate the engine block of a vehicle and stop it in its tracks. A .45 caliber pistol cannot do that.” “Okay. I guess my final question is, why do you need this other revolver?” “Oh. That’s just for fun. You know. That’s for shooting cans.” “Shooting cans?” “Yeah. You know. Plinking. Shooting at cans. Ping. Kapow. Bang. Get it.” Well, after the 60 questions drill was done, I got my inventory slip for the guns and we went to tour the falls. I mentioned at the beginning of this story that this would be the end of a two-day story. Guess what? I lied. The story is actually in three parts. Sorry. But the whole drive up to Niagara Falls and the 60 questions at the border crossing turned out to be just another huge exercise in futility.
by 
by 