Skip to main content

The colours of the canyons

Red and green. Not the garish colours of plastic Christmas decorations. But the soft, weathered, burnt-sienna red of rock worn into peaks and troughs by countless years of rain and wind. And the contrasting clumps of ever-changing greens from bushes, trees, cacti and grass, each clinging to their own little foothold. This was Caprock Canyon. And we were right in the middle of it all.


It had taken four hours to drive here. Four hours of long straight roads across flat bare countryside, passing through half-forgotten towns with their ramshackle shop fronts. Now we pitched our tent in the tiny campsite and soaked in the silence. Caprock Canyon is a sudden sharp schism in the landscape, jolting you in just a few miles from the homely farmlands to jagged edges of tortured sandstone. It’s the edge of a great plateau stretching across the landscape, and the sudden storms and ever-blowing winds have had their way with the exposed rocks for thousands of years. But all that violence seems far away when you watch the full moon rising over the still scene, the singing of crickets the only noise in your ears.

As we walked the next day, we passed peaks and pillars, cliffs and caves. A viewpoint opened up vistas down the entire canyon, blue sky arcing over green shrubby floor. Fern Cave, reached by a steep scramble down a rocky path, was a cool retreat of lush green leaves hanging from the damp dripping rocks. Graham jumped a few feet backwards as he suddenly spotted a flat-headed snake alert at the side of the path. It wasn’t long but it looked mean, so we gave it a wide berth. Back down in the dry stream valley, we admired castle-like walls of crenellated rock and sweltered in the sun as the day grew hotter and our water supply grew lower.








Later that day, we traded the solitude of that empty landscape for a cheerfully expectant crowd in Pioneer Amphitheatre. TEXAS has been put on every summer for 44 years on this outdoor stage in Palo Duro Canyon, an hour or so up the road from Caprock. We sat in the warm evening and watched as the story of cattle ranchers, pioneer spirit, love and strength was played out – complete with galloping horses, a Beethoven’s Ninth thunderstorm and an awesome prairie fire scene.

Our final hike was to the Lighthouse, a huge smokestack of knobbly rock that is the most well-known formation in Palo Duro. En route, we met lizards posing on rocks and scurrying across the path. We were watched warily by a big-eyed, slender snake camouflaged amongst the leaves. And we viewed with gruesome fascination a team of ants dragging the body of a huge bee back to their nest. In such a harsh-seeming environment, there was life going about its business everywhere we looked.


And for millions of years, humans too have found a place here. The ancient Indians survived by running herds of bison over the cliffs. Then came shepherds raising sheep, and the great cattle barons of the West. Now we are just tourists, with none of the hardships of their lives, but we felt privileged to have walked in their footsteps and shared the harsh beauty of the canyons.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Limestone Way - the end! (for now...)

Bonsall is a pretty little village just up the road from Cromford. It was the centre point for my final Limestone Way walk. First I walked one way, back towards Ible, then I walked the other way to Matlock. I started at the fountain and climbed up to a tree in which a mistle thrush was singing loudly (helpfully identified by the Merlin app). A few fields took me across to the hamlet of Slaley. Then there was a pleasant walk through the woods, which dropped steeply to my left down to the Via Gellia. At Dunsley Springs the stream went right over the edge.  I made my way down more gradually, and then was faced with the long climb up again to the point near Leys Farm where I was rejoining the Limestone Way. Tree down! Rejoining the Limestone Way Once I'd reached the top, it was a very pleasant walk across dry grassy fields. There were signs of old mining activity, which suddenly made the ground feel less solid under my feet - how many holes were hiding under the turf? Back at Bonsall, ...

Derwent Valley Heritage Way: Steep drops ahead

It's been a long time since I fitted that much up and down into an eight-mile walk! 740m of steep climbs and steps. My legs were not very happy with me the next day. Between Matlock and Cromford, the Derwent River runs through a deep valley, with Matlock Bath - a landlocked town which pretends to be a seaside resort - down at the bottom. The ridge of high ground used to run all the way round to Scarthin Rock, cutting off Cromford from the rest of the valley, until somebody blasted a hole through it to build the A6. Matlock Bath: pavilion and amusement park I started in Cromford and climbed over the ridge at Harp Edge, then followed a path along through the woods, with the ground dropping sharply away to my right. There were a few small caves among the trees. At Upperwood someone had thoughtfully provided a bench. I wasn't in need of a rest just yet, though. In fact, I was feeling so bouncy that I went down an entirely unnecessary flight of steps, instead of staying on the reaso...

Limestone Way: Grangemill and Ible

It was getting mistier and mistier. As I drove past Carsington Water, the world around grew dimmer, and when I parked near Brassington, the nearby trees were hazy shadows in the murk. I was glad I was wearing a red coat as I started off along Manystones Lane. At least I had some chance of being visible. Fortunately it was a short road section. I navigated my way across a series of small fields, from one dry stone wall to the next, and crossed the old railway line which is now the High Peak Trail. I could just imagine a steam train emerging out of the fog. The next fields were larger. It was as if the landscape was being sketched around me as I walked across it. A tree or an electricity pylon would appear as a few faint lines, increasing in detail when I got closer, and fading away behind. Up ahead, the land dropped into a huge hole - Longcliffe Quarries. I couldn't see much, but the noise from the machinery dominated the next section of the walk.  I skirted the edge of the quarry a...