In 1970 two friends and I drove up the Alcan (days of thick dust before the Canadian section was paved) in a VW bus in which they had built cupboards and stuffed them with a huge amount of bulk food, plus many varieties of herbal teas one of them was fond of. No problems crossing into BC with a shotgun back then, but along the way we heard stories of naive hippies being busted wholesale when crossing back into Alaska with weed. The US border guys took one look at three scruffy longhairs in a VW, rubbed their hands with glee, and told us to sit in their office while they tore the van apart. We quickly heard a shout of triumph when they found the first bag of green leafy stuff, then nothing for a long time. They finally came back into the office, sweaty and pissed off, and told us to leave quickly.
Damn that was fun. They never looked in the right place.
