We successfully avoided skidding, but later in the hotel car park we were not
so lucky. The back wheels got stuck on a patch of ice and Harvey was going
nowhere - except possibly into the side of a parked car. Just before I went into
the lobby for help, grit or even just some cat litter, the rear wheels suddenly
shifted and the van got free. The spinning wheels had eventually melted the
ice. Almost hairier than the Sherman Pass.
15 minutes later Emma returned from her moderately successful hunt
for food with sandwiches, crisps, and hot chocolate. A petrol station had
proved to be the only open place, we felt like we were living in a war -
embattled and scrounging for food and lodging. Am I being a bit
melodramatic? Yes, maybe. But I was sick! The hotel room and bed were
extremely welcome; it was like being back in Vegas (except with no jacuzzi,
one less TV, and no free porn....)
The next morning my cold was worse and I was delirious. Every time we
turned on the TV all I could see were elves and goblins, trudging mindlessly
from one place to another for hours at a time... Actually it was Lord Of The
Rings - on every channel. They were doing a special for the whole weekend,
coinciding with the release of the third film. By the end of the day we had
managed to see the whole of the first film, just in pieces and out of order. We
also fitted in two other films and some serious napping, in a bid to beat the
cold that Emma was now suffering with as well.
So, here we were, a few miles from one of the greatest wonders of the
natural world, and doing what? Watching American daytime TV. We really
were sick. We were determined to see the Canyon however, who would not