Dallas, You’ve Got a Big Little Canyon in Your Backyard. Get There.

Ever feel overwhelmed by the immensity of the night sky and stars? Space is scary like that; it’s mostly void. Up in the Panhandle at Palo Duro Canyon, the earth meets that void. But it’s not scary. It’s invigorating or maybe even calming.

Driving northwest on U.S. Highway 287 out of Dallas, you’ll start to experience the void in a few quick hours, flying past the Walmart in Vernon and the community college in Clarendon, both rodeo towns. As you tap your breaks passing green city limit signs, you’ll see abandoned buildings and tall old silos as proof of why the cities were established. Inhabitants are sparse (but not void).

The population of the Panhandle is about 430,000 and half of that is in Amarillo. This northernmost patch of Texas squeezed between Oklahoma and New Mexico is about 25,000 square miles – larger than Massachusetts and New Jersey combined, with less than 3% of those states’ population.

The first time I visited Palo Duro, which is a six-hour drive, was to run trails. I’d give anything to have those knees back, but at the time, we ran along dusty paths, past prickly bushes and over smooth red rocks, while gaping at the soaring rust-colored canyon walls.

At night, we shared a bottle of wine around a campfire, gazed at the Milky Way and listened to roving coyotes’ yips. We could see shooting stars through the mesh roof of our tent, and just as I’d start to nod off another one would fly over, beckoning me to stay awake just a little longer. On another trip, we drove up and back in one day because we’re not all-weather campers, and other lodging options were sparse.

More recently, we went back up there and were happy to find snug Airbnbs with full amenities (but no coyotes). Plus, new bars and wine outposts that make the trip more than a camping and hiking excursion. We stayed at Rustic Luxury Cabins perched atop the canyon rim – literally, they put boulders at the end of the driveway to make sure people don’t drive too far. The owners designed these cabins to showcase the canyon and the view is a beaut, Clark. An upstairs loft has a huge window for 24/7 uninterrupted live streaming of the canyon.

Hoodoos and Sad Monkeys

Palo Duro Canyon is the second-largest canyon in the U.S. (120 miles long and 20 miles wide), etched out of the earth for over 200 million years. A state park on the canyon floor is a playground of trails, hikes, hoodoos, wildlife and fauna.

Don’t Google hoodoo: it’s a tall, slender geological formation of rock carved over time by wind, rain and whatever hell-like weather is hurled at the Panhandle. The most famous hoodoo in the park is at the end of a three-mile hike on its namesake Lighthouse Trail (because this hoodoo, as most, resembles a lighthouse).

The trek is challenging, but everyone in the park seeks it out with some Richard Dreyfuss Encounters determination. Reluctant teens wearing slides and worn-out moms carrying worn-out toddlers are drawn to this hoodoo despite a particularly tricky final ascent (after a three-mile hike). The pull of the void is real up here.

The reward is a stunning panorama of the canyon floor and a front row to this towering red rock. Once there, people sit and stare for long periods, taking it in and mustering the energy to get back to the car, which involves shimmying down slick rocks and another three miles. We watched with one eye covered as people using canes, wearing long blue jean skirts and orthopedic shoes navigated getting off the ledge that surrounds the hoodoo.

It all makes for a great day’s journey from Dallas. Leave by 8 a.m. and you’re hiking by 2 p.m. And now it’s easy to stay the night, and you should.

For drinks and a bit of local shopping, we stopped at Sad Monkey Mercantile, which I renamed Bad Monkey because that’s just a better name. Either way, they have craft beer and wine. When we were there a cowboy in a starched white shirt, 10-gallon hat and boots sat on a stool, strumming a guitar and offering an unforgettable baritone version of “I Got Mexico.”

For happy hour and dinner, we headed into Canyon, the home of West Texas A&M University and the closest town to the park. We found a Tex-Mex spot, Joe Taco Canyon, just off the downtown square and sipped cheap margaritas. We also grabbed dinner to-go and relished every bite.

Before leaving the square, we stopped at Palace Coffee Company. I thought, ‘No way they have good cappuccinos here,’ and the cafe said ‘Bet.‘ The next day we were back and I even bought a T-shirt. There’s a Thai restaurant, an old-school soda shop and other restaurants with big plates of food and large bars on the square. And it’s all an easy 20-minute trip to the canyon and back.

Back at the park, there’s still plenty to do. This year they’re celebrating 59 years of TEXAS, an outdoor musical performed at an amphitheater during the summer. The show, a history of the High Plains, includes a barbecue dinner and is a whole production starting at 6:30 p.m. and ending at 10:30 p.m. Just a wee bit off Broadway, the stage is nestled in the basin of the canyon surrounded by the soaring cliffs and all their beauty. People travel from across the country to see this production. Red Rocks lite? Well … it’s nice.

In terms of getaways, road trips and vacations, Palo Duro isn’t a margarita on the Seawall or a pina colada at a swim-up bar. There’s very little shopping, but we did kill an hour in Bad Monkey getting things to remember the trip. It’s a unique mix of big nothing, beauty and a strange urge to explore. You’re not going to wait in many lines, get preflight anxiety or have to pay extra for that other checked bag.

Palo Duro Canyon is sort of a void of all that – and that’s exactly why you should go.