Where the high plains meet Fort Union

Remains walls of the third Fort Union

Cannon on the second fort site

In mid-January, the need for a head-clearing drive became too loud to ignore. The mountain west does not lack for places where people and cars run in short supply. 

Northeastern New Mexico is one the least populated parts of the Lower 48. If you want solitude, you can receive it in waves just over the pass from Colorado. 

After Raton, northeastern New Mexico settles into a high plain with the snow-capped Sangre de Cristo lying behind smaller pine-dotted ranges. To the east, everything is pale grass and severe blue skies clear to the horizon, punctuated by the occasional rogue mesa or butte. 

I crossed the dry bed of the Canadian River and many rock formations known to Santa Fe trail travelers, such as the Capulin-Clayton Volcano Field and Wagon Mound, the Conestoga-shaped mesa that looms over a small town of the same name. Even smaller is Watrous, where the ripples of land east of the Turkey Mountains hide the ruins of what briefly became one of the largest towns in New Mexico Territory. 

Approaching Fort Union National Monument, I wondered, “Why here?” The remaining adobe structures of the third fort on the site popped from the brittle grasslands and pine-covered mountains a few miles away. This dry prairie seemed to offer no obvious water resources. Then I crossed sizable Wolf Creek. While not exactly flowing after months of drought, the creek was broad enough to support a settlement of several hundred soldiers and their families. 

Today, mostly deer and antelope still play at Fort Union. Wolf Creek offers enough water to draw them as well as the elusive elk that spend daylight hours in the pine-covered mountains. 

The two routes of the Santa Fe Trail merged out here. The Mountain Route (also known as the Wet Route) followed the Purgatoire River across southern Colorado to Raton Pass. The shorter Cimarron Route followed the river, which didn’t always contain water, and could be more treacherous. 

From Fort Union, Santa Fe was just a few more days of travel, with Glorieta Pass the last major obstacle. At its peak, Fort Union saw 3,000 wagons a year, mostly in the summer months. They often arrived in columns a mile long. 

From those wagons, Fort Union outfitted posts across the southwestern U.S. Most of those forts were constructed to fight against the local tribes. The original 1851 fort sat at the base of nearby mountains, and its timbers swiftly rotted from the elements. 

A second, hastily constructed earthen fort reinforced Union soldiers under Kit Carson and helped rebuff Confederate forces with eyes on a western front in the Civil War. That front largely fizzled after a handful of battles, but the second Fort Union was important as Confederates had eyes on the Colorado gold fields. 

Built from adobe, the third fort remained active until 1891, years after the Indian Wars concluded and railroads rendered the fort’s regional supply hub obsolete. This fort was not especially well-constructed either, as leaky roofs were common. The timber decayed quickly once the fort closed. By the time the site became protected in the mid-20th century, most of what still stands was all that was left. From miles away, the rows of brick chimneys and fractured walls rise from the dry plain. 

When in operation, only the wagon master’s post stood two stories tall, and gave a view of approaching traffic across the sweeping plain. A flagpole that exceeded 100 feet still stood, and flag could undoubtedly be spotted by approaching wagons. The ruins are immense. Walls, fireplaces and chimney comprise most of the remains, along with a post hospital too fragile for close inspection. 

A single building stands almost intact. Of course the stone structure served as Fort Union’s prison, right next to the empty, deep pits of the post’s latrine. One can imagine the Natives, the Jicarilla Apache, seeing not only the wagon trains, but the sudden city appear in the middle of their territory. It was a sign of what would arrive in the west once the locomotive replaced the wagon trains. 

Fort Union's post prison

The skies were unclouded except for one sharp-edge cloud that could depict whatever spirit animal you imagined. Of course I saw an alert cat, ears pinned back as it pounced at prey. Off the path of the Santa Fe Trail, I saw an unexpected sight. A pronghorn herd grazed in the tall grasses. 

Among the pronghorn, several mule deer also grazed. That was not unusual, the ranger told me. With Wolf Creek the only reliable water source, the animals tended to congregate. At dusk, elk from the Turkey Mountains would come down as well. There were no bison, of course. 

I kept the discouraging words to a minimum, and the affable park ranger only spouted park facts and pleasantries. 

As the rolling hills of northeastern New Mexico swallowed up the rows of chimneys, the pronghorn sprinted across the road, the only signs of life on a plain of a once-bustling outpost.