My boyfriend had purchased a 1986 Iroc that was a theft recovery with the intention of fixing it up. At the time of purchase, the steering column was still broken from when it was stolen, but that was easily repaired. All we had to do was start it with a screwdriver. It wasn’t a big deal in our minds, so we rarely bothered with the keys. One day we’d get it fixed, but for now, we could easily get it started, and it was so fun to drive!  

One day, we drove into Calgary with a friend in the backseat and hung out at the mall for a while. Coming out of the mall, we decided to leave the city and go find a quiet place to smoke some weed. We had a little blow torch, some knives, and some hash, and we decided it was the perfect opportunity to smoke some blades. Grabbing the screwdriver from under the front seat, my boyfriend didn’t even bother to look around him and started up the car.  

We drove to the outskirts of town and found an entrance to a field to park in.

We backed into the space, and looked around at the quiet, undisturbed countryside as my friend in the backseat lit up the torch and started heating up the knives. That’s when chaos broke out.

I looked up to see two cop cars come flying toward us and block us off from leaving where we were parked. We were trapped. Freaking out, and yelling at my friend to turn the torch off, I then noticed that the cops all had their guns drawn. They were yelling at us to put our hands on the dash, and I began to panic.

Not only were guns pointed straight at me, but we also had an open flame burning in the back seat of the car.

I was pulled in two different directions and didn’t know which might be the safer option.

I began to try to talk to the cops and let them know what was going on, but my boyfriend told me to stay quiet. And so I sat there, panicking, hands on the dash, guns pointed at me, with the quiet burn of a blow torch going in the back seat. The cops slowly approached the car and began asking questions. At this point, I was finally able to tell the cops that there was an open flame without triggering them to shoot, and they told us to get out of the car. As we got out of the car, one of the cops grabbed the torch and turned the gas off.    

Now that I could focus on only one problem, the fact that they still had guns pointed at us, I really began to get scared. What had we done wrong?  I knew the car had been purchased legally, and we had it insured, so I couldn’t imagine what had made them decide we were dangerous criminals. That’s when I remembered the broken steering column and came to the realization that someone at the mall must have reported us for stealing the car. 

As the situation began to de-escalate, the cops started to relax. 

We showed them the paperwork and legal documents, and they realized that our only crime at this point was attempting to smoke a little hash.  They found our paraphernalia in the back seat and took it out to see what was in the container. Luckily we didn’t have a lot on us and after realizing we hadn’t stolen the car, I think the cops thought it would be okay to let us off the hook, especially because I was still in shock from having a gun pointed straight at me.

The cop with the container handed it to my friend who had been in the back seat with the torch and told him to do something with it. Confused, my friend didn’t know what to do at first. The cop repeated the instructions to do something with it, and my friend decided to toss the container over his shoulder and into the ditch. With a nod of his head, the cop turned and walked away, telling us to stay out of trouble, and to have a good day, apologizing for the chaos and confusion.

The moment the cops drove away, my friend went into the ditch and retrieved the container. Within moments the torch was lit again, this time outside of the car, and we finally got to smoke these blades. The hash helped calm the nerves, but I would never forget the feeling in the pit of my stomach of being held at gunpoint by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.