PALO DURO CANYON SP
The plan calls for spending a full day at Palo Duro Canyon. When entering the park the night before, I asked the ranger about a good 5-8 mile hike. She recommended I hike to the Lighthouse Formation—the signature geologic feature in the park. I consult the rudimentary map I was given at the entrance station, and it appears that I can hike to the Paseo Del Rio trail from my campsite. After a little more than a mile, the PDR trail intersects the Lighthouse trailhead. So I set off at 8:00 a.m. I find the trail fairly easy (though without shade) with a thin layer of sand underlain by sandstone. The trail crosses a number of washes, however, where I have to pick my way through with some care. After a couple of hours, including stops to enjoy the scenery, I finally reach the base of the Lighthouse. Here the trail turns vertical—or as nearly vertical as it can and still retain a thick layer of pea-sized pebbles held tentatively in place by irregular large rocks and boulders. The last tenth of a mile is a four-legged scramble, hands and feet, before reaching a narrow ledge overlooking a 50-foot drop-off. I shimmy along the ledge—thankfully only about 5 feet long—before reaching the basketball court sized sandstone table upon which stands the 300-foot tall Lighthouse. After 15 minutes rest, I’m ready to start back down.
The return leg, though mostly downhill, proves to be more challenging than the hike up. The heat is extreme. I brought 4 liters of water with me and have been hydrating regularly. But I start to feel dizzy halfway down, and swirls of spots in front of my eyes are making it difficult to pick out the path. If I stop walking I have to hang onto an outcrop of rock or something just to stay vertical. So I keep walking, afraid to stop. By the time I intersect the PDR trail again I’m stumbling along like a drunk, aware that I’m in a bad way. My water is almost gone and what’s left is so hot I can barely drink it without gagging. But I have to keep going.
I finally reach the camping area and draw cold water from the first spigot I see. Almost home. Another few hundred yards and I’m there. I use a pedometer application on my iPhone; it shows I covered 8.959 (let’s just call it 9) miles with 282 minutes on trail. The thermometer I set out by my camper reads 103 degrees in the shade.
I should be more careful.
Early next morning, before dawn, I'm serenaded by a choir of soulful coyotes which, coming early in my trip, I take to be an omen of good fortune.