So about those helicopter and freefall adventures I planned ...
The Freefall website failed to mention it was literally attached ...
... to a Hooters.
And was made of tin.
"No," I said, "No, I don't think so." Because indoor freefalling attractions are only as good as their air pressure. I just didn't think the Hooters could sufficiently blow me.
After I saw the shoddy freefall attraction, I turned a skeptical eye to the Canadian helicopters. None of them lived up to the Black Hawk I had imagined. I crossed the '80s helicopters off my list.
One more scary experience:
Gary was taking photos, and of course took a photo of the border crossing. Know what? This is discouraged by the border guard, who immediately began yelling at us.
Then, the next day, I was able to authoritatively say, "No, Gary, you don't need you passport to get to Canada." This is true. You need it to get back in to America. So that border crossing was as exciting as a Hooters Freefall. Gary got all panicky at the "Where are you from sir" question. Is he from Saint Louis? Or East Saint Louis? Would they shoot him if he got it wrong?
After a few questions, and some typing, they let us back in, especially after we planned out loud how I would go back to the hotel and get his passport. The guard let us back in to America after a stern warning. Quite exciting.