PAMPA

 

 

This land is your land, this land is my land

From California, to the New York Island

From the redwood forest, to the gulfstream waters

This land was made for you and me”

 

From, “This Land Is Your Land”, by Woody Guthrie

 

 

Two weeks ago I was stuck in another small Texas town.  A few weeks earlier I’d endured a week in Paris, Texas.  This might’ve been worse though.  I was in Pampa, which is in the panhandle, northeast of Amarillo, and not far west from the Oklahoma state line. 

 

Pampa’s claim to fame is that it was once home to Woody Guthrie, the folk singer who wrote, “This Land Is Your Land”.  All I can say is that if I lived in Pampa I might be inspired to write songs about other places, too.

 

The people of Pampa (are they called Pampons?) seemed nice enough, but the town didn’t have a whole lot going for it.  There wasn’t much there in the way of restaurants, and my hotel was pretty mediocre, too. 

 

The worst part came on Tuesday evening when I went for a run on their “greenway”.  On the one hand, I guess it’s good that they have a greenway.  I’ve been to plenty of towns that don’t.  On the other hand, theirs leaved a lot to be desired.  First, it’s concrete, which is absolutely the worst surface for running.  Also, there was no telling how long it was.  Midway through there is a sign that says 1.25 miles, but there are no other signs, and it definitely isn’t that far from that point to either end.  I ended up running back and forth on it a couple of times just to get in a 4 mile run.  Unfortunately this meant running past a Long John Silvers and its charming smell of hot grease over and over again.  It also required crossing a rotten footbridge several times.  Worst of all, it meant having to dodge traffic crossing the busiest street in town at rush hour multiple times.  The greenway actually passes under the street along a dry creek bed.  Well, it’s mostly a dry creek bed, except under that bridge, which is flooded.  It was not an enjoyable run.  On Thursday I resorted to the elliptical trainer in the hotel’s fitness room.

 

My job did feature one funny incident.  On Tuesday I had to count inventory.  The inventory consisted of pipe scattered around an expansive yard.  The employee who accompanied me took me in a truck so we wouldn’t spend all day walking.  Oddly, this guy would put the key in ignition and then stare at it for about 30 seconds before starting the truck.  I thought maybe he had passed out the first time.  Perhaps he thought the truck started on brain waves?  Then it occurred to me that he might be praying.  Then I realized WHY he might be praying and reached for the door handle.  After that, I was content to walk.

 

It was a relief to be home for Thanksgiving week.  I was off most of that week, but was content to be lazy for the most part.  I did get out for one dayhike though.  On Black Friday, I took Boone down to Congaree National Park.  I chose Congaree mainly because it is now prime hunting season, and hunting isn’t allowed there.  Unlike most national parks, dogs are allowed (on leash).

 

I made it to the park in just over an hour and a half.  Instead of hiking from the Visitor’s Center, I drove over to the South Cedar Creek Road trailhead on the southeast edge of the park.  This is the trailhead for the Kingsnake Trail, but it’s mostly used by canoeists and kayakers accessing Cedar Creek.

 

There were three other cars there when I arrived.  Boone and I started our hike on a cool, sunny morning a bit before 10am.  After a short distance we crossed Cedar Creek on a bridge.  Water levels looked low, but later I met some guys who had just finished canoeing Cedar Creek.  They had paddled upstream from the bridge and didn’t have any trouble going against the mild current.  The low water made things a little tricky, but they didn’t get stuck and weren’t forced to portage.  I think my next trip to Congaree will involve a boat of some sort.

 

We followed the Kingsnake Trail deep into a lightly traveled part of the park.  I’d last hiked this trail about 10 years ago, and only saw a couple of people on it on this occasion.  One of them was at the base of a giant oak tree.  That tree must be one of the largest in the park.  It towers overhead, and its canopy is massive.  This guy was studying the tree to see if it could be climbed.  Climbing giant trees is becoming a popular sport, but this was the first time I’ve encountered someone that does it.

 

Beyond the tree the trail began following Cedar Creek.  A bit later I reached a junction with the Oak Ridge Trail.  I continued ahead and crossed a bridge over the creek.  I then joined the Weston Lake Loop Trail and continued upstream along Cedar Creek.  I passed lots of other hikers along this trail, as it is one of the most popular trails in the park.  Around noon I reached Wise Lake, which is probably my favorite spot in the park.  I had lunch there under the Cypress trees. 

 

Afterwards, I picked up the Oak Ridge Trail.  I followed this trail back to the Kingsnake Trail, passing many huge oak trees along the way.  Many of the oaks were draped with Spanish Moss, adding to the beauty of the forest. The trees were probably the best part of the hike, along with the solitude.  Outside of the 1-mile stretch on the Weston Lake Loop Trail, I only ran into a few other people.

 

I returned to my car at 4pm after hiking 12 flat, easy miles.  The parking lot was now overflowing, which was startling.  Where were all of those people?  I’m guessing they must’ve been paddling, since I didn’t see many hikers at that end of the park.




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