Date: January 2012
Position: 36°10′30″N 115°08′30″W
36°0′56″N 114°44′16″W
36°18′N 112°36′W
Conditions: Freezing
Round One, Plans
The day started innocuously, I didn’t sleep in, the taxi was prompt, took the direct route and there were no roadworks or car accidents to contend with. It was all going swimmingly! The prior organisation had many positive benefits! Usually, I book everything at the last minute and get annoyed with myself paying full price for whatever remains on the shop floor. My photo albums are a catalogue of where I ended up, not where I intended to go. Not this time. This time was going to be different. This time I Had A Plan. And I was going to Stick With It. So far, so good.
Booking in advance is great, you get what you want, at the best price and at the time and place you want it. I had even found favour with the weather gods. The sky was blue; the air was crisp and descriptive narrative would demand the sound of birds chirping. As I was standing beside the airport, the last part of that sentence was redundant, but you know what I mean.
The red Mustang
My trusty steed for the next two days was shiny red Mustang with only 1000 miles on the clock. An extra ten dollars saw it morph into a convertible. Sweet! It had no idea what it was in store for it. A Mustang may seem somewhat excessive for a couple of days local sightseeing. In my defense, that particular juncture of my life had me living on a tiny rock in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, the current mode of transport being a rather sad, green, 100 cc scooter with a top speed that would make an asthmatic cat look like a cheetah. A girl doesn’t always have to be sensible with her car choice. Cliche – but hey, a red Mustang looks great in photos!
Previous experience has taught me to be selective with travel companions. Great friends in real life do not always make the best travel buddies. Endearing, quirky traits can quickly become incredibly annoying. Solo travel can be a pain – there is no one else to blame. Mind you; you do not have to negotiate with yourself – a bonus! With this in mind, I decided company would be cool for this road trip, so the last minute decision was made to include a travel buddy. I picked up a personable chap named Simon.
Buddies
Short term relationships can be tricky. I have found, if approached in a business-like manner, usually both parties needs are met, rather than following the usual trajectory of my more long-term relationships. Starting with excitement and bliss, before long the nagging begins, then minor criticisms escalate, disappointment sets in as fallibility is uncovered leading to the inevitable parting of ways. So I made my expectations explicitly clear. I like to drive. And I am good at it. Simons role was copilot – provide details on upcoming corners and lanes, landmarks of note and most importantly, point out local sources of food. Oh, and exciting things to stop and take photos of on the way.
Expectations
With this in mind, I laid out my itinerary for the next 48 hours. Simon raised his eyebrow and exclaimed, “don’t you think that’s a bit far?” He did not seem reassured when I insisted that my expectations were achievable. I had lived for a short time in a very hot, dry country, where one drives Outback about 400 miles between fine establishments that serve lukewarm pots of XXXX (because the locals can’t spell beer), garnished with flies and red dust. Driving through sagebrush desert on an Interstate should pose no problems to a seasoned pro like moi.
Open Road
So, with the course to steer agreed, we set forth on our adventure. Challenge number one – the freeway. It’s busy. I find it so rude other people want to use the road at the same time I do. At least we were all travelling in the same direction. It was on about the third rather large interchange that Simon started to get a bit stressed. He wasn’t that quick at anticipating lane changes, leading to a couple of dodgy manoeuvres, but I was able to pull it off with minimal apologetic waves to other road users and not too much honking in my general direction. So far though, it was all good.
The next fifty minutes where bliss. Cleared the city, open road in front, blue skies overhead, snow-covered peaks in the distance, the joy of driving somewhere entirely new. A companionable silence, iPod shuffle picking appropriate roadie tunes. I knew it was too good to last. One hour in, I figured I was coming up to my first stop. The signs were all there; valleys narrowing, pylons and power lines converging on the course of the highway.
Falling apart
And then the rot set in. I followed the signs, a tried and true method of getting to exactly where you want to – especially when it is a rather well-known tourist destination. The nagging started. His voice took on a horrible whinging, tone.
“Turn Back!!!! Make a U-turn when it’s safe”.
“Sorry bud, I am following the road signs. I can see where I want to go!”.
“No, turn back, the map says it’s the next corner.”
“Mate, just use your eyes, the layout of the road has changed. I reckon that map is out of date!”
“Turn back, turn back.”
“Shut up! I’ve got this sorted”.
“Turn around!”
“Listen, you silly man, I am right, and you are wrong. Watch this!”
His accent, which initially I found quite cute was now starting to annoy me.
Vindication
He made one last half-hearted attempt to assert his authority – to no avail. It did occur to me that this is possibly the cause of so many tourist-related road accidents. Arguing over directions and not paying attention to the actual driving business – especially when driving on the ‘other side of the road’ and trying to admire the scenery. I stuck to my guns, feeling somewhat vindicated as I received my ticket for the parking building overlooking a rather spectacular feat of engineering with an impressive lake behind it. Simon was oblivious. Round one to me.
Round Two, More Plans
So, we’ve had our first fight, and the dust has settled. One memory card full of photos, a slight case of vertigo conquered, votive feet rubbed and thirst quenched, I decided it was time for round two, the next stop. About half an hours drive through some pretty expansive countryside and even better, some of it off the beaten track. A quick discussion with Simon ensued. He seemed happy with the destination. A relatively straightforward trip.
Hope
We set off, full of hope and high expectations for our future. Exciting! Cruising along, the vista expanded. Sagebrush and dry earth framed by blue sky and mountainous ranges retreating into the distance. The number of billboards advertising must do casinos and resorts falling by the wayside. I was admiring the scenery, chilling as you only can do on the open road when I noticed Simon had become rather less communicative. Worried he had gone to sleep, I poked him. No response. I became concerned. We needed to talk. Thinking about the best way to approach this, I found a lay-by, eased the car off the road killing the engine.
I composed myself – even paused the iPod. Not wanting him to feel ambushed, I asked for advice, – what should I do? Met with a stoney silence that became deafening, I could tolerate it no longer. This was important. I realised that while I do make snap judgments in relationships, I actually did wanted this one to succeed. Prepared to pull out all stops, I poked and prodded him. He stirred. Yay, there was hope! I questioned him about our destination, why had he withheld directions from me only to find I had been cruelly deceived. He had no intention of supporting me on my journey. Instead, he had tried to subvert it with his own plans.
Dumped
It was over. Done. No hope of redemption. I consigned Simon to the back seat – it did seem a bit nicer than dumping him on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.
Now rudderless and adrift I was somewhat elated. I could do this alone. I did not need Simon. The blacktop stretched as far as the eye could see (well, to the next bend). Considering my options, I could retrace my steps, work out where it all went wrong, be reflective, gain insight, learn from this experience. Or not.
I chose ‘or not.’ With Simon and his maps sitting quietly in the back, I turned the music up and pressed on. Passing through towns, I skirted around cities, crossing bridges and drinking in the ever-changing scenery. So different from home, I stopped to shoot pics of trees, river beds, gorges, abandoned buildings, pinching myself that I was here.
Second Chances
In the spirit of inclusion, I asked Simon for recommendations for food only to be met with an offhand comment about fast food restaurants – I got the feeling he was sulking. When choices are limited, beggars cannot be choosers. Simon advised the Golden Arches at the next exit, which involved a traffic light, left-hand turn, followed by crossing traffic. The Colonel’s restaurant was on my side of the road instead, so the Colonel’s it was! That lead to a slightly twilight zone experience – having sampled his wares in many nations now, I was surprised at how unfamiliar the menu was. I escaped with a popcorn chicken combo and the feeling that I had visited an alternate reality, thinking next time the drive-through might be the best option. The upside of franchises is their toilets are usually clean, tidy and well lit!
The tonne
My journey continued, and my ears began to pop. It would appear I was gaining elevation – a 7000ft elevation marker confirmed this along with the white stuff on the side of the road that was not frost! It was snow. Blasting on, I had seen no signs of humanity in over an hour so had picked up speed. I was cruising at 100, so it was an unpleasant shock when I passed a car parked discreetly on the side of the interstate. A quick glance at the speedo and more than a few nervous double checks in the rearview mirror to confirm no red and blue lights were behind me – I gave thanks to the gods for doughnuts! It did remind me to check my speed more often – especially now that Simon was not talking to me.
Promising exits
I found an exit that looked promising. A quick stop at a roadside diner for a rather tasteless filter coffee, I confirmed with the friendly locals I was on the right track, but some distance still to go until the main event. The scenery had changed markedly. I was now driving through Kaibab forest with snow drifts taller than me on either side of the road. At five foot ten, that’s lots of snow! I pressed on, aware of the passage of time by the changing angle of the sun. I became concerned about the volume of traffic travelling in the opposite direction to me. It would appear that everyone was leaving the district and me, the only person choosing to visit. This started to prey on my mind. Why? Was it shut? Had it washed away? Had I not read the signs correctly?
Securing digs
The next village I came across, I pulled in to the first readily accessible hotel (i.e., I didn’t have to cross traffic in icy conditions and negotiate narrow entrances!), found reception, rang the bell and enquired about vacancies. Not a problem. I had figured as much from the exodus I had witnessed. I secured a room at an excellent rate and asked the receptionist why it was that everyone was leaving.
“Blizzard” was her laconic reply. “Lasted two days. The access road only opened an hour ago. People have been trapped here, and now we are almost out of coffee!”
“Well, that explains it!”
“I guess ya haven’t been listening to the radio then. Where ya from anyways?”
“Clearly not from around here!” I quipped.
She cocked her head and gave me a funny smile.
“Did you want to come here, or were you going somewhere else?”.
“Well, to be fair I did have a slightly different destination in mind” I replied and recounted the adventures of my day to a sympathetic ear. I had yet to decide what to do with Simon.
Her smile broadened into a grin.
“Yeah, the Skywalk is not on GPS, and the Hoover Dam’s new road layout don’t show up yet! Catches a lotta folks out!”
Best laid plans
When I left my hotel in Las Vegas that morning, I had a plan that involved the Hoover Dam, Lake Mead, the Skywalk followed by a spin around the city at night, heading up to Death Valley for sunrise the next morning. Instead, I found myself standing alone on a platform overlooking one of the most awe-inspiring sights I have ever seen. The view of the Grand Canyon at sunset, covered in fresh snow from the Mathers Point Overlook on the South Rim. Looking at the bands of colour on the canyon walls, lit up spectacularly by the setting sun, down to the shadowy depths below made me appreciate how ancient this land is and how fleeting my visit was to be.
Redemption
And, then I had to go and make amends with the poor old GPS that had been thrown into the back seat of my car, having had its pedigree read to it in very explicit terms! If it weren’t for that little user error with Mr GPS and a big dose of “oh well, you only live once” I would never have experienced how genuinely impressive the Grand Canyon is.
