Palo Duro Canyon June 2011

When I started studying Texas History in earnest a few years ago, I read many accounts of events taking place in or near Palo Duro Canyon. I read Stories of Texas Rangers or the US Army chasing Indians that would just disappear out on the Texas Plains. Early settlers did not know about Palo Duro Canyon as It was so far into the plains from the settlements that they had never seen or heard about it. The stories I read piqued my interest in going there.

For my birthday this year, Cecelia planned a surprise trip to the canyon as a present. After doing lots of research on the trip, she found out that April was not the most desirable time of the year to go if one wanted to partake of all the events available. Texas, the play, doesn't start until June and everyone told us we had to see it if we were there. The play is a musical romance of Panhandle history. So, we decided not to go on my birthday but, instead go in June. We did and just returned on Sunday, June 19Th. The biggest problem with going in June is the weather. It gets hot in the canyon and it was very hot, reaching 110 degrees one day.

What Cecelia had planned for our trip would have been so special, but it just didn't work out. For one, on the west rim of the canyon near the entrance to the State Park, there are a few rock cabins that were built in 1934 by the C.C.A. The cabins are very primitive, and one has to take everything for sleeping and cooking with them when they stay there. I am not even sure they have air conditioning. Besides that, we could only rent one for one night and we wanted to stay longer. They also don't allow pets in the cabins and we had our little dogs with us. We could not leave our dogs home because our pet sitter was out of town. In fact, we were meeting them at the canyon. I suggested the idea of renting a trailer and camping in the canyon.

We rented a 19-foot trailer and pulled it 1145 miles to Palo Duro and back. We camped at the state park for four nights. It was very hot and we spent most of the hot parts of the days in the trailer. One day we went into the town of Canyon which is just outside the park. There is a very good museum there, and while Cecelia did some shopping, that is where I went. 


One morning we took a horseback ride into the canyon and another morning we took a three-hour jeep ride to the very bottom of the canyon. We had a very talkative guide that had lots of information to share with us. I would like to go back sometime in the spring or fall when the weather would let us do some hiking or bike riding on the many trails available.

My Cat Story

This story goes a long way back; to the time I lived in Colorado. I was married to my late wife Sharon at the time. I am not a cat person, never have been. When I married Sharon, she had two children, a dog, and a cat named Sparkie. Now this cat was not friendly and would not let me near it; probably was a brilliant idea on the part of the cat. Well, anyway, this cat would poop in the flower pots in the house and kick the dirt all over the carpets while trying to cover it up. As one might expect, this drove me crazy, and it went on for years. Soon I started hating this cat.


I saw the cat, sparkie, setting in the driveway, one day as I was leaving for work. I stopped the car, got out and picked up the cat and put it in the car. I don't know what came over me. I should not have done that. I began looking for a new home for the cat as I drove to work, I wanted a place where he would find a good home. I went into a neighborhood that I knew had upscale homes. I stopped the car and let the cat out. As I drove off, I looked in the rear-view mirror, and the cat was just setting in the middle street looking around.


I never told the family about what happened to the cat, and at the time, they thought it had run off. It left the house often for days at a time, so it was not unusual for it to be gone for a while. One night during dinner, the phone rang and when I picked it up, there was a lady on the other end and she asked if we were missing a cat named Sparkie. I told her we had lost a cat named Sparkie, but that we were not missing it. I could hear her kids talking and laughing in the background, so I asked if she wanted to keep the cat. She said her kids really did liked it, and she would be happy to keep it. I don't know how she got the cats name because while driving the cat to it's new home, I removed all of it's tags except the rabies tag. Maybe she called and got the name that way.


Years later, while cooking out in the back yard, I had a few beers and made the mistake of telling Jodi, my step-daughter, who was grown now, the cat story. I thought she was old enough to think it was funny, but she really got mad at me. She was mad at me for a long time and maybe she still is, who knows. She told me recently that when I told her that story she almost burned an old picture of me and my mother that was on the wall in our house. Sure glad she didn't!


I don't know what came over me for doing what I did to that cat because, it was not a very nice thing to do. It sure is funny now when I tell the story to people that don't like cats. We have a wonderful big black cat now, but I still like dogs much better.