Palo Duro Canyon, one of Texas' oldest and largest state parks, literally falls out of the desolate panhandle plains near Amarillo, leaving first-time visitors to wonder, "why would someone put a canyon here?"  Unless you live in Amarillo, the park is somewhat remote, lying so far north in the state that it is slightly closer to Denver than it is to Austin.  But despite being a long drive for just about everyone in Texas, Palo Duro Canyon is still one of the most visited parks in the state park system.  The canyon is relatively young and shallow, having formed in only the last million years as a tributary of the Red River sliced its way through 800 feet of soft sandstone and gypsum, the tailings of which now lie scattered about the canyon floor in a thick layer of iron-rich silt.  The park contains superb camping facilities, including a handful of air conditioned "cow camp" cabins on the canyon floor, and hosts an outdoor Texas history pageant nightly during the summer.

Our die-hard group consisted of myself, long-time fellow adventurers Brian and James, Joelynn (a parks employee with a wealth of knowledge on Palo Duro Canyon), and Kristy (a Michigan transplant and relative newcomer to the Texas outdoor scene.)  We set out from Austin early on Thursday morning, winding our way up through the Hill Country and into the panhandle for 8 1/2 hours, interrupted only by a brief lunch stop in booming downtown Sweetwater.  We arrived in the park around 3:30, made a stop at the gift shop and scenic overlook, then proceeded into the canyon to set up camp and have a relaxing dinner.  It was around 7 PM that evening that all hell broke loose.

The dark clouds had started building ominously on the northern horizon during dinner, and we had banked on a bit of rain, but not a monsoon.  The rain started small, then it got worse, then the hail and thunder and lightning and wind picked up.  A brief passing thunderstorm, we thought.  We thought wrong, for the tempest had us cowering in our tents and cars for most of the night.  It had let up sometime before morning, and we emerged from our various shelters to find ourselves in the middle of a lake of red mud.  The five low-water crossings standing between us and civilization were impassable to all but high-clearance vehicles.  Fortunately, the parks employees had cleared out the mud from the fords by the time we had eaten breakfast and were ready to hike.  By that time, the water had also gone down enough to where I could get my Saturn through safely, so we made the short drive down the canyon to the trailhead for Lighthouse Peak.

The mud dried up with amazing speed, and the day turned out to be clear, sunny, and warm.  We spent most of the morning hiking up to Lighthouse Peak, then after lunch in the park cafe' and a short nap, Joelynn led us on a primitive hike around the rim above the amphitheatre.  The primitive trail was once a very well-maintained CCC trail but has fallen out of use in recent years, and the parks department is in the process of reopening it to the public.

That night, we ventured out into the nearby metropolis of Canyon, TX for dinner, arriving at Feldman's Wrong-Way Diner just as another thunderstorm opened up on Canyon and started heading down the road toward the park.  By the time we had eaten and returned to the canyon, the storm had apparently already passed over the northern end of the park, but our campsite was still dry.  We were treated to a spectacular light show as the storm faded off into the distant sky while another one passed over the canyon on the opposite horizon.

All was quiet until the pre-dawn hours, when the winds started whipping at gale force intensity, the temperatures dropped to the low 30's, and it began to sleet and snow.  By the time we awoke Saturday morning, we were all well and truly frozen with tents in various states of disrepair.  With the prospect of colder temperatures Saturday night, the consensus was to throw in the towel and head home.  We had intended to stay Saturday night in Caprock Canyon, which is about a hour's drive southeast of Palo Duro, but we instead just opted to drive through the canyon on our way home.

Was it worth it?  Heck yes!  But just barely.