This is the greatest case of false advertising I’ve seen since I sued the movie “The Never Ending Story.”

Lionel Hutz is wrong on this one - the Grand Canyon far exceeds any reasonable expectations. A must do activity, even for those who hate such things, is to watch a sunrise over the Grand Canyon

We set the alarm for the hideously disturbing time of 5:45am and, despite my doubts, everyone decided to wake up with me and come to Yavapai Point. Our timing would have been perfect for the forecast 6:31 sunrise, except for the fact we’d ignored the constant falling of snow the previous night. Walking out to the car park over crunching newly formed ice, to a car half buried under snow, was an exciting experience for still bleary-eyed kids, but having to scrape ice off the windscreen with a loyalty card and having to open the door to back up (the electric windows on the car had frozen shut) only served to make us late.

By the time we arrived and dashed through snow to the lookout, the sun was already just starting to crack its first rays of light over the northern rim of the Canyon. I set up as quickly as I could in half darkness with numb fingers, managing to get away a couple of hopefully decent photos before the sun had fully risen. It was an awesome experience, all golden light backlit fur-trees on the canyon walls covered in frost and snow, and a slowly sinking, dissipating mist. Fifteen minutes later it was all over - the kids were restless, Jackson’s toes were wet and cold from incessant jumping into snow banks, and we were in need of a coffee so we drove onto the café at Yavapai Lodge for a middling breakfast of pancakes, sausages, danishes and the ubiquitous, crap coffee, then returned to the hotel to book it for another night, and returned once more to the Canyon.

It was a far better day than the previous one, all blue skies, fluffy clouds, and only the fresh snow betrayed the conditions of the previous day. We walked the rim from Pipe Creek Vista toward Yaki Point for maybe 20 minutes before Elise had decided she’d had enough, so she and I returned to the car while Nic and Jackson walked on to Yaki Point, then got a shuttle bus (the only means of transport allowed from Yaki Point) back to the car.

Well, that was the plan anyway. After an hour and a half of waiting, including maybe half a dozen or more return drives from Pipe Creek to the Yaki Point turn-off, looking for Nic and Jackson, they finally turned up, all chuckles, wondering why we didn’t collect them. To add insult to my complete waste of half a morning sitting in a car on the Canyon rim, they’d also spent 15 minutes photographing elk only a few metres from them. Glad they had a top time, while I sat around fuming. Apparently they didn’t realize that only shuttle buses were allowed from Yaki. I’d have thought people getting constantly on and off shuttle buses (without being dropped off in cars) every 15 minutes might have been a subtle hint, but apparently not.

We drove back to the Visitors Centre with me still in surly silence, and Nic took the kids to the Visitors Centre to attend a Ranger talk necessary for them to complete their Junior Ranger certification. I took the opportunity along the way to be dropped off at the Yaki Point turn-off, where I completed the walk from there to the Point, then back along the rim to Pipe Creek. I got to see the elk – from maybe 50 metres away – which partially lessened my anger, but with such awesome conditions and scenery it was impossible to stay angry (despite trying as much as I could), and by the time I’d made it back to Pipe Creek I was over it. I picked up the bus back to the Visitors Center around 4:30, dropped Nic and the kids back at the hotel so they could watch the Grand Canyon IMAX movie, and I headed back once again via shuttle to Yaki Point to run off a time-lapse of sunset over the Grand Canyon. It was an epic, perfect sunset and my camera clacked away once every twenty seconds looking toward the north rim, then east toward the Temple of Vishhu, while I chatted with a very friendly young couple from Montreal who were also taking photos on the rim, and dreading the thought of returning to camp in a tent in the snow. I had to physically restrain one of them from leaping off the cliff when I told them, upon hearing they were heading to Bryce Canyon in the next couple of days, that it was even colder and snowier there. Not really, of course, but they were discussing, in French, the possibility of staying in a hotel instead. I wouldn’t be so proud as to insist on camping either, in those conditions.

Waves of tourist came and went, with a large glut of highly irritating Japanese turning up 10 minutes before sunset, fighting on the cliff, yelling, throwing snowballs at one another (and nearly collecting my camera in the process) then thankfully, and with sweet, sweet relief, then left 5 minutes after sunset.

Fifteen minutes later the last group went, leaving just me and the rim, alone, in darkness. The camera was the sole source of light, continuing to fire shots every 20 seconds until one by one the stars started to appear over the rim. I fleetingly thought of taking some star trails but the thought of a 3 mile trudge in darkness back to the Visitors Centre in sub zero conditions strangely didn’t appeal. Finally I conceded defeat – the snow, ice and biting cold had gotten the upper hand despite four layers of clothing and two sets of gloves. When the lights of the second last shuttle of the evening lurched out of the darkness I experienced a strange sense of relief, as though its arrival had highlighted my isolation. It was clearly time to return to the hotel.

I was the sole passenger on the oddly long, slow drive back to the Visitors Centre. He and I chatted about travel, his desires to visit Australia, and prime Canyon points (he recommended Pima, for those who are interested) then I was out of the bus, alone once again in a snow-swept car park, pools of orange sodium vapor lighting marking the way back to the car. The drive back to Tusayan was bitter-sweet – I was mindful that I wouldn’t have the chance to do any more sunset trips, and we wouldn’t be doing any canyon walks due to the icy conditions, making an already perilous walk for small children an insane proposition.

Next time, maybe.