You can talk to a lot of people a long time and never get a specific definition as to what exactly makes up West Texas.

Is it everything from, say, Abilene to El Paso? The Big Bend area? And what about the Panhandle?

No matter the definition, every place west of Fort Worth is usually water starved anyway; being in the current drought only makes things worse.

So any water source out west is treasured. Especially mammoth Lake Meredith north of Amarillo – even when the lake is at a record low.

Lake Meredith

Words like Caprock and break and butte crop up when in the Panhandle. So does Lake Meredith. Along with the Alibates Flint Quarries, Lake Meredith is national park land – but it ain’t Yellowstone.

Like West Texas, the barren, scrubby land either appeals to you or doesn’t. Certainly, Lake Meredith/Quarries is one of the least known national parks. The fact that the lake is at a new low isn’t helping, either.

But that shocking water level – for boat docks to be accessed, the level needs to be between 79 and 99 feet and a ranger said it had dropped below 55 for the first time ever – doesn’t keep Panhandle boaters away.

All sorts of high dollar vessels cruise the High Plains waterway. (A marina is happy to rent you a stylin’ boat for just $40 per hour or $200 daily.) However, it’s a bit tricky to be West Texas hip if you run aground.

Lake access is made below stark cliffs as roadways snake down to docks. Just two are open right now, by the way.

From the cliff vantage points, you can see how low the lake is: Long brown islands stretch just beneath the water’s surface like volcanic eruptions reaching up. Other fresh islands have already been formed.

Still, skilled boaters zip through the deeper channels, some pulling skiers. Pleasure boats – huge party vessels crammed with Bud-loaded dudes and dudettes – cruise along the remarkably colored water, a hazy green so colored by rich mineral deposits.

New Mexico is to blame for Meredith’s low level, locals say. Snow runoff from mountains just hasn’t been sufficient in recent years. Plus it won’t rain in Texas.

So the lake level drops – and will keep doing so, a national park ranger told us.

The marina

Some places on the lake are reachable only by boat – which works out great provided you can actually launch a vessel. The best place remains the marina by the dam, even though the marina has a small, growing island, which ducks seem to like, right next to the launching area.

Just getting to the marina is a bit of a trick. The roadway dives down at a sharp angle then it’s another downhill walk to the water. You steadily hear vehicle wheels spinning as they try to back out of those acute parking slots, often accompanied by cussing in multiple languages.

The marina is nice with a covered fishing area and a store offering conveniences. And in that store you can see a fishy marvel up close and personal by just purchasing a bag of popcorn.

Off the main walkway, scores of silent shadows glide just beneath the water’s surface. But, toss a handful of popcorn and watch the critters explode to the surface. Hundreds of carp have figured out that eating popcorn from children is much easier than sucking up funk from the bottom of an ever-declining lake.

So scores of the mustachioed scavengers battle for popcorn, writhing over one another, fighting for the free meal. Many come completely out of the water or pose, their creepy mouths opening and closing rhythmically like some kind of demented silent chorus.

When the ducks hear the ruckus, they hurry over. So you have hundreds of slimy carp, some tiger-striped, warding off admittedly stuck-up ducks for pieces of popcorn. It’s pretty cool.

From the dam, you can get a perspective on just how big this 41-year-old lake is. (With its unique color amid the ruddy windswept landscape, Lake Meredith must be a wonder to behold from an airplane.)

Lone Star anglers have a unique opportunity here; it’s the only major body of water in Texas that’s cold enough to contain walleye. Those slender powerhouses are great battlers.

Panhandlers without boats seem to do one of two things on Lake Meredith.

Many take a picnic lunch and stake out a table high above the water, watching the variety of boats motor by and wondering just how many will run aground on that lengthy sandbar just below the surface 100 feet from the shoreline that the vessel captain probably can’t see.

Others venture to the opposite side of the dam that contains the Canadian River. There, a bird watching dock juts out over a marshy pond; the lake attracts tons of migrating birds. And on the north end below the dam, where you’d expect the Canadian to continue its journey, a swimming area has been created – a roped off, major pool filled with Panhandlers battling the 95 degree dry heat.

Several parks dot the lake and there’s no fee to enter. (Boat registration fees apply, however.) The main office is in the town of Fritch where the Dairy Queen does boffo business. The ranger there was ecstatic out-of-towners had ventured to the lake.

Not all parks are on the lake. Some are reachable by vehicle, far from the water.

Remote parks

Well away from the lake – especially with the level dropping – three parks are as secluded as anything in Big Bend.

McBride Park is accessible by veering off the road to the quarries. After passing a couple of miles through typical hard-scrabble High Plains terrain – tumbleweeds in the making, soapberry trees, roadrunners, cactus – the roadway suddenly dips dramatically.

At the base of the hill is a shockingly green expanse. Huge cottonwoods tower with elms and junipers above very old picnic tables. At the McBride entrance is an old homestead; like those in other remote locales, you wonder just what people were thinking to settle there. The home is wired off by very modern chain-link fencing.

Two dirt roads head out along either side of the canyon. We drove one. Our 4-wheel drive pickup had no problems hugging the eastern wall. Low clearance vehicles probably shouldn’t try it, however.

Like many arid areas, you can see the path of a creek – when there’s water available – as trees of varying height straddle and mingle on the canyon floor.

The second park, Bates Canyon, is nowhere near as dramatic. It’s over by the quarries and its main offering is the stark, rocky terrain that rises all around. There’s a boat ramp but the water is far away right now.

Hunters are attracted to Plum Creek on the west side of the Canadian.

Two other sites, Mullinaw Creek and Rosita, are also hunter-intensive and are even more remote. The latter offers off-roading and can be reached via Highway 287.

The Quarries

A new ranger station and facility is being built for the Alibates area. No one was there when we entered, dropping down into barren terrain etched from the Caprock. When the lake is at normal levels, you can see the water from station, a ranger told us. Lake Meredith was nowhere in sight on our visit.

You can drive/hike/bike on any dirt road in the vast park. We exited a paved road onto Dolomite Point Road, a dusty path that got progressively rougher. It took 3.7 miles to reach the Point – and it took us a while to figure out we had actually arrived exactly.

Along the way, we passed between white rock strewn hills that erupted from the canyon floor. I climbed one, seriously misjudging the steepness near the top; but I made it and got a great view of the huge canyon that runs toward the lake. (You can see water from here.)

Of course, you can do the same thing by car just south of Dolomite Point Road. Be careful walking out to the top hill; it’s a 100-foot-plus near-vertical drop, a fall that rivals that Mountain Dew commercial.

Far below stretches a hunter’s dream – a riparian area, where a unique stream ecosystem attracts all sorts of animals, including birds, deer, pigs, and turkey. Even in this extra-dry season, plenty of greenery stood out where a stream of varying strength ventures.

Before reaching the Point, we drove over two miles across the canyon where the temperature reached 98 degrees, according to our truck temperature gauge. (Of course, it also said it got up to 134 degrees during our Galveston ferry wait the previous week.)

A large doe bolted down a hill, stumbled on the red dirt road then bounded into the brush, disappearing immediately. Two chaparrals perched high in a dead tree, one munching a lizard.

The road ends at the Point. Dolomite is a brilliant white/pinkish rock, lightly veined like a tree leaf sometimes. At the Point, the thick rock protrudes like a frozen wave, a solid alabaster glacier almost blinding from the searing sun.

A few spent red and green shotgun shells let us know others had been there, but we never saw anyone – which was good since the meager road certainly could not handle two vehicles meeting.

Flint quarries can be reached by ranger-led hikes only; it takes around two hours and heads out twice daily. Reservations are required.

Ranger Ed Day – owner of perhaps the shortest name in the parks service – is exceptionally knowledgeable of the area and shows how ancient Indians mined then carved weapons from pieces of flint that is sometimes six feet thick in cliff walls by a process called knapping.

The future

Rangers told us they were concerned about the future of the Meredith/Quarries area. The lake is a recreational area while the Quarries are designated as a monument – two diverse designations.

Should the lake falter, the Quarries certainly would, too, a ranger said.

Panhandlers don’t have a lot of water options; the deterioration of the lake certainly won’t help. Rangers at Alibates said there might be an out, however.

Ancient Indian ruins – some adobe buildings with "40 or 50 rooms," he said – are secluded deep in the barren hills. Right now, only rangers are permitted to make the hike to the unique area. Carefully opening these ruins up to the public might reinvigorate the area.

Just remember to bring some water.