“Bee see, bee see, wah, wah… wah… bee see, wah, bee see, bee see, bee see…”
What am I babbling about now?
I’ll give you a hint: I started this chant while we were staying just south of the British Columbia border in Lynden, Washington…
…a lovely small town where baseball teams swarmed the local ice cream shop after games — in this case, Edaleen Dairy, where the sundaes were some of the best we’ve had since leaving Ohio (where Tofts in Sandusky rules)…
…and where we parked to walk from store to store, shopping to our heart’s content…
…when we weren’t taking the twenty or so minute drive down to Bellingham, where we noshed on La Fiamma’s fantastic wood-fired pizza:
It was on these drives that we noticed something odd. Traffic was clogged, especially at Costco and Walmart… and the license plates were mostly from British Columbia.
So I started the chant: BC.. BC… Bc… Wah… BC… BC… Wah… Wah….
British Columbia… BC….
More than just casual cross-border visiting was going on. This was serious. We asked around: “Is something special happening? Something we don’t know about?”
Well, there was the “long weekend,” which had attracted a good number of Canadians across the border for the Victoria Day three-day holiday. “But it’s like this all the time,” we were told.
What we witnessed was a “fill-up-the-tanks with cheap US fuel” traffic. This was “get the most for the Canadian dollar” traffic. We watched people fill grocery carts full of gallon containers of milk, load up the backs of minivans with soda and liquor. Lines at gas stations were long.
With things so much cheaper on the US side of the border and the Canadian dollar (at least in late May and early June) so strong, border checks were worth the time and trouble for cheaper gas, milk, and booze.
So we threaded our South Dakota (“sud”) truck through the bee sees and wahs, wondering when the best day to sneak into Walmart might be…. one sud among all the bee sees and wahs.