Times were crazy for most of everyone back in the 1980’s, and it was no different for the parents of Craig Thompson, who had decided they’d had enough of raising a 13-year-old boy, and would rather live a life of no responsibilities and kid free partying. 1982 was the year the Thompsons abandoned their only son, on what was supposed to be a fun family camping trip to the rugged terrain of Palo Duro, Texas. Craig, like most kids that grew up in the 80’s, was no stranger to being left alone all day, and scraping by on snacks, drinking from a water hose, and riding his bike well past dusk. Craig decided he can do this. “Who needs them?!” he cried out, as the words echoed off the canyons. He had made his mind up to live a life of solitude scavenging for food. He grew up tough, but never lost his sense of humor and kind heart. Over the years of blistering summer days, cold winter nights, and sneaking around scavenging for food and supplies from unsuspecting campers, Craig was practically a ninja of an outdoorsman. After all, what kid from the 80’s didn’t want to be a ninja? But even the nimblest feet in Texas were no match for this great state’s rugged and unforgiving terrain. At the ripe old age of 27, while steadily outrunning a mountain lion, Craig lost his footing and slipped and fell to his death. Even at the end he wanted to continue to live in solitude in the beauty of the Palo Duro Canyons. His spirit refused to leave, and made his forever home at the bottom of those canyons as the ghost of Canyon Craig.