![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVXB-qSV9M3fLQMsLlU2jr3urx466q_ANDZpbFL09Hi4vm4ovGKG43M7S5-Vs9MZPFVsnWgr396MeCwAknup9M7bI0fOWaOpCKYGeHXZpE2L_GwxQbHkV36I13rBjR392SNyA9QQ/s640/Texahoma+-+1.jpg)
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Shortly after crossing into Texas, it looked like I was heading into weather. True to the old adage – "Put your back to the wind, the high is on your right, the low is on your left" – I was preparing for rain.
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A few miles down the road, I saw what looked like a wall of water ahead. I pulled into a turnout just in time to be hammered by a torrential squall, the kind where you can't even see out the window. In less than a minute, the temperature dropped from 85 degrees to 65 degrees... Yikes!
After a few minutes, the rain let up to a drivable rate and I continued down the road. I passed through Amarillo because I've already stayed there more times than I care to recall. Instead, I'm spending the night little farther along my route in Canyon, TX.
I can't recall how many times I've driven across Texahoma, but I'm ready for this to be my last!
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