Day of Hope #18

Friday June 13, 2014

Goal: Get the first stamp in my new passport

Quote: “A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality.” – John Lennon

This is not a spooky story! It’s a story of an awesome adventure that took place on Friday the 13th, my favorite days of hope. When there is a Friday the 13th weekend, I do something big. I book trips and large bucket list items. It’s nice because I incorporate Saturdays and Sundays too. 

Each year is different. Sometimes, there are only two or three Friday the 13ths in a year. Occasionally, there is only one. This story is about one of those years when I had only one Friday the 13th. June 13, 2014. This was my first real Friday the 13th getaway and it inspired me to do more of them. 

In February, I started planning for my Friday the 13th. The universe was working in my favor that day. One of the items on my vision board for 2013 was to get my very first passport, so I did. It was a busy year, so I did not find time to use the new passport yet. I decided in 2014, I was going to get a stamp in my passport on the weekend of June 13th. I started thinking, “Where do I want to go? The universe is the limit. I can go anywhere.” Money was a factor and I had to be true to my money goals and not go overboard. My schedule was also a bit crazy, and I could not jet off to Paris yet, I had to think closer. Where could I go to take five days and enjoy my time, without spending most of it on an airplane? The closest place I found to Idaho, where you are required to have a passport, was Canada. 

I Googled places to visit in Canada. I Googled for what seemed to me to be forever. Nothing jumped out at me or looked like fun. I decided that maybe I would have to drive, or fly, to Washington, then cross the border to get the stamp and go back home. I was frustrated. I thought, “Even if I went across the border and back it would work. I just need a stamp.” If you have been to Canada before, you might know they do not usually stamp U.S. passports but let me finish my story.

I went to my favorite salad place, Deli George in Boise, Idaho to get a salad and take a break from planning. I needed to get back to work, so I ordered the salad and cookie (they make the best cookies) to go. I was standing by the soda machine waiting for my food, thinking how frustrating it was that I could not find anything fun to do across the border in Canada. I just wanted a stamp in my passport! 

I happened to look to my left. On the side of the soda machine was a beautiful picture of a large lake and gorgeous mountains, a breathtaking view. I said to myself, “I need to go there someday.” I read through the story associated with the picture they had put up. The story was about a tea house located at the top of a mountain. It looked like a beautiful hike. The tea house was very rustic, and used natural spring water to cook food, and brew the tea. The owner of the restaurant where I was getting my salad was friends with the owner of the tea house and they visited often. I read the entire story about this beautiful tea house located in ...wait for it…Alberta, Canada. No way! I almost passed out from shock right there by the soda machine. I got my salad, left the restaurant, and went straight back to my computer. 

I Googled the tea house I had read about and booked a hotel room down the street from Lake Louise in Alberta, Canada. I checked on airfare to see how close I could get by plane. You can get about two hours away from the town by airplane, then rent a car and drive. I wondered how long it would take to get there if I drove instead. From Boise, Idaho to Lake Louise, Alberta, Canada in Banff National Forest it’s…wait for it … thirteen hours! Really, thirteen hours. Boom! Done! I have my Friday the 13th trip booked and planned. I am ready to go. I was beyond excited! 

A month went by, and my good friend Idgie sent me an email. Her day is the full moon every month. 

Her email says, “I see there is a full moon on the June 13th weekend. We should do something one day that weekend.” 

I responded with the details of my Canada trip. “This is what I am doing in June, the weekend of Friday the 13th, want to join me?” She was shocked. She could not believe I had already planned a trip. It was only March. She said, “Ummmm okay…let me think about it.” Idgie didn’t have her passport, but she was able to get it and we mapped out our route and the stops along the way. It was one of the best trips I have taken. 

Okay, okay, I know what you’re asking. “What about the stamp in the passport?” I did not know when we booked the trip that Canada does not stamp U.S. passports. I am glad I did not know, because I would not have gone if I had known. My whole goal was to get a stamp in my passport. 

On the day we got to Canada, we go to the border crossing and proudly handed the guard our new passports. We are excited, and ready for our first stamp. He looked at them, asked us a bunch of questions, and handed them back to us. “Have a great time,” he says. 

Confused, I said, “You did not stamp them.” 

“Ma’am” he replied, in a gruff stern voice “We do not stamp U.S. passports”. 

“What?” “Why do I need one then?” 

He glared at me, and Idgie pulled my arm, saying, “We have not seen the tea house yet. Let’s get it on the way back.” I gave the guard a dirty look and drove off. 

We drove through Canada to find the teahouse, at Lake Louise, and it was breathtakingly beautiful. On the trail to the tea house, you pass three beautiful lakes, Lake Louise, Mirror Lake, and Lake Agnes where the tea house is located. When we got to the tea house, I finally got my tea. I just remember sitting and staring off into the distance so filled with pride and smiling on the inside. I accomplished the goal of hiking to the tea house. 

On the way back as we got close to the border patrol, I told Idgie, “I don’t care if we go to jail, I am getting a stamp in my passport.” She said, “Oh no”, and called her husband to let him know he might have to come get us out of jail. She knew I was serious. 

Once again, we pulled up to the window at the border, and handed over the passports. The guard was so serious. He asked me a bunch of questions like: Did we buy gifts? Do we have alcohol? He asked me why we came to Canada? I glared at him, straight-faced and said, “To get a stamp in my passport.” 

Silence. 

We stare each other down; I am giving him my best death look.

Finally, he asked, “Really? We don’t stamp U.S. passports.” 

Through gritted teeth, I said, “I know, I found that out on the way up. But I am not leaving here without a stamp. The only reason I came to Canada was to get a stamp in my passport.” 

Idgie leaned over and looked at him. “She is serious.” 

I could see him trying to hide a smile. 

“I can’t give you an official stamp,” he said, “But let me see what I can do.” He took our passports in the back room and came out a few moments later. 

“It’s not official, but it’s a stamp,” he said. 

I was overjoyed. “I don’t care. I will take it!” 

He handed back our passports, and I am proud to say both Idgie and I have stamps in our very first passports with the words Eastport, Idaho, and a picture of a moose. HA! A stamp is a stamp. 

It was the perfect end to a perfect trip, and we did not go to jail. Later, I went back to the teahouse in Canada on another 13th weekend four years later with my sister Sally and her boyfriend Bob. It was just as beautiful the second time.  

My lesson of hope: When something falls into your lap from the universe, act on it, and act on it quickly. Watch for the signs. Never take no for an answer.