After all the excitement with the tornado in Eagle Nest, we were hoping our next stop would provide a less evening-newsworthy atmosphere (and it did – no rare weather occurrences to report). Cimarron Canyon State Park is located less than ten miles east of Eagle Nest making for a very short travel day. We planned only a two-night stay at Cimarron Canyon, attempting to time our future park visits around the upcoming Labor Day weekend as well as pending reservations in Oklahoma soon after the holiday. After the very short drive, we arrived in the park and decided to stop by the visitors center to gather a bit of information.

We never made it that far as a helpful camp host approached the RV as we sat in the electric hookup loop leading to the visitors center while waiting for another RV to clear the road. This first loop looked fairly crowded and cramped, but the forested setting was a welcome change from the exposed campground at Eagle Nest. The camp host asked if we were looking for a site and said he had a few available if so, but we told him we planned to drive further up the road to the Maverick Campground. Cimarron Canyon is a long, thin state park with camping areas spread across an eight mile stretch, the Maverick area being six miles away from the visitors center. The host was fairly certain we’d find a place to park for a couple of nights in the Maverick loop, so we thanked him and trundled on our way, skipping the visitors center.

The drive through the canyon took us past the winding Cimarron River and offered brief glimpses into the surrounding forest. After leaving Colorado in early June, we hoped to spend most of the summer in northeastern New Mexico to take advantage of the cooler temperatures found at higher elevations. The numerous wildfires throughout the area impacted our route, with Cimarron Canyon as one of the temporarily closed parks due to the Ute Park fire. The park itself wasn’t damaged during that fire, however, the wildfire was close enough to warrant closure of the park for obvious safety reasons. We would eventually drive through the burn scar left by the fire, but we didn’t see any of the evidence in this part of the canyon.

We found yet another incredibly helpful and friendly camp host in the Maverick Campground, which is again noteworthy because the interaction with hosts at the various New Mexico State Parks varies significantly. Some are rarely (if ever) seen, others are happy to chat when you cross paths, and yet others go out of their way to help you find a space, offer suggestions, and happily answer any questions you might have. In this case, the Maverick Loop camp host immediately offered us a reservation-only site when she learned we were only staying for two nights.

Reservation sites are typically available for one night only on a first-come, first-served basis assuming no one has, of course, already reserved the site. All New Mexico parks are supposed to employ a handy green sign/red sign system indicating which reservation sites are currently available for the one-night only limit (green means OK to park, red means the site is reserved starting that day). The system is used to various degrees across the parks, with some locations changing the signs daily while others never change the signs at all, leaving them perpetually red even if the sites aren’t currently reserved. Not only were the signs accurate at Cimarron Canyon, the host knew exactly when the next reservation campers would be arriving. She directed us to a site overlooking the lakes, with the understanding we’d stay two nights and then be on our way. If not for her guidance, we wouldn’t have parked in this picturesque location. Once again, it’s the efforts made by park staff that completely impact a visitor’s initial impression of a New Mexico park.

Thanks to this prime parking spot, I had easy access to fishing. We essentially had two lakes in our backyard which reminded me of the immediate, spur-of-the-moment fishing opportunities in the canal this past winter while in the Florida Keys. I made good use of our short two days in the park, catching my limit of five rainbow trout on the afternoon of the first day and just one under on the second. The Gravel Pit Lakes are routinely stocked, which makes it easy to catch fish in the small bodies of water. People were practically lining the perimeter of the lake one afternoon, making it seem as though we were plucking toy ducks from the pool at a community carnival rather than fishing for trout in a mountain lake. Although the fishing experience seemed a bit contrived, I met plenty of people and enjoyed some lively conversations – and I caught delicious, perfectly edible fish which was a welcome change from my experience at Eagle Nest.

Those seeking a more sporting day of fishing can venture into the slightly more remote “special waters” section of the Cimarron River within the park. Anglers must be aware of the specific rules when fishing specially designated areas in New Mexico, such as using barbless hooks or adhering to different daily bag limits. We didn’t make time in our short visit to explore any of the trails, but the park does offer hiking opportunities throughout the canyon. The state park doesn’t have shower facilities and the water spigots can be kind of difficult to access within the loops (long hoses to fill RV tanks would be a definite bonus), so you may want to plan accordingly for your visit. Nearly all of the sites seemed a little on the small side, not very long, and slightly un-level which may be a concern for visitors with larger rigs. Most of the sites are pleasantly shaded while providing enough full sunlight in patches to make use of solar, assuming you park in a sunny spot or use portable panels. As has been the emerging theme in the northeastern parks, we had a moderately strong roaming cell signal for our Republic Wireless phones, but no signal at all for our Verizon hotspot. Cimarron does not have WiFi, just in case that impacts your future plans.

Our brief visit flew by, and before we knew it we were back on the road heading east. Route 64 carried us through Ute Park and the haunting remnants of the wildfire from only a few months earlier. Ashley commented as we initially drove into the canyon a couple of days prior that the landscape looked like Mordor, Tolkien’s fantasy hellscape from The Lord of the Rings. The burn scar on the eastern side of the park only reinforced that imagery. The morning was cool and overcast, with a fog hanging low over the tops of the mountains. The hazy atmosphere eerily evoked smoke clouds reinforced by the emergence of burnt, lifeless tree husks. Brown and orange leaves could easily be mistaken for fall foliage back on the east coast, but blackened trunks told a different story. The following photos don’t capture the sheer scope of the damage caused by the fire. Over 36,000 acres were consumed in the blaze, the now barren landscape prone to erosion and mudslides severe enough to close the road nearly every evening following the almost daily storms.

Despite the obvious destruction caused by the fire, signs of vibrant life have emerged in the months following the event. Lush, green plants are growing along the sides of the road at the base of scorched tree trunks. Wildlife scampers through the area, as birds and squirrels once again go about their daily business. While the flames wreaked destruction across a wide swath of land, they also carried renewal in their wake. New life springs from that which has been destroyed, and the natural cycle revolves without ceasing. The sight of young plant life isn’t enough to erase the bleak, desolate image left by the fire, but it is a reminder of the resiliency present in our robust environment.

As an Eagle Scout, I’m familiar with the Philmont Scout Ranch located four miles south of the town of Cimarron, although I never visited the high-adventure camp during my years in the Boy Scouts. In the summer months, the 140,000 acre ranch is visited by 22,000 Scouts and Venturers from across the country. Incidentally, Philmont is also home to one of only two Tyrannosaurus rex footprints in the entire world as confirmed in 1989. The Scout ranch was most recently impacted by the Ute Park fire, with twelve unoccupied structures burned. All backcountry treks were canceled for the remainder of 2018 as a result of the fire. Two flash floods swept through the area in the past 50 years, the most recent in 2015 resulting in the death of one Scout. In spite of these natural disasters, the ranch remains a destination Scout camp that helps to draw tourists to the area throughout the year.

The overcast sky remained as we drove into the town of Cimarron, the gateway from the Rocky Mountains to the expansive prairie beyond. Dense cloud cover stretched to the horizon, vaguely ominous and mildly threatening as it blanketed the now flat, wide landscape. The atmosphere did no favors for our first glimpse of Cimarron, a once wild and rowdy frontier town that now appears deserted and run-down. We considered stopping for a cup of coffee somewhere as we passed through, but the stretch of town lying along Route 64 was anything but inviting. The historic district lies off the main road, and had we ventured into this area I’m sure we’d have a different opinion of the town. Rather than stop to explore, we opted to keep driving and leave Cimarron in the dust.

Cimarron’s name is taken from the Spanish word used to describe a mustang meaning “wild” and “unbroken”, which were apt descriptors of this lawless place in the 1800s. Originally home to the Anasazi, Jicarilla Apache, and Ute tribes, Cimarron transformed into the hub of a mining and ranching empire in the 19th century. The town attracted homesteaders, trappers, traders, gold miners, and other settlers seeking to make their fortunes in this boomtown. The famous and infamous alike mingled in the dusty, wagon-rutted streets as Western legends like Kit Carson, Black Jack Ketchum, Buffalo Bill Cody, Davy Crockett (the nephew of the fabled frontiersman), and Clay Allison rubbed elbows in as many as 16 saloons and four hotels spread throughout Cimarron in the late 1800s. Clay Allison and his outlaw cowboy gunslinger friends were notorious for spreading terror through the town starting in 1870, as the rowdy bunch shot up lamps, lanterns, and mirrors on their weekend rampages through the saloons and gambling halls in Cimarron. Rumor has it they were particularly fond of “making newcomers ‘dance,’ as shots were fired at their feet” according to the Cimarron entry on the Legends of America website.

The controversial Maxwell Land Grant catapulted Cimarron’s lawless reputation to an all-time high in 1875. In addition to the rampant outlaw activity in town, the Colfax County War broke out between new land grant owners and the settlers and farmers already occupying the land. Sheriffs served eviction notices to the settlers and the unscrupulous grant owners began a campaign of terror in an effort to force the settlers from the land, including setting fire to pasture lands, rustling cattle, and engaging in nighttime homestead raids. A Methodist parson by the name of Franklin J. Tolby arrived in Cimarron when the town was most in need of salvation, and immediately sided with the settlers, openly opposing the land grant gang. His opposition was tragically short-lived, as the idealistic 33-year old minister was found shot dead in Cimarron Canyon between Elizabethtown (now a ghost town) and Cimarron on September 14, 1875. The settlers suspected the land grant men of the murder because Reverend Tolby’s horse and belongings still remained with the unfortunate corpse, indicating robbery was not the motivation behind the crime.

Tensions very gradually settled over the next few decades, and eventually railroad activity increased through the town carrying coal, agricultural animals, and human travelers alike. Additional rail lines were added in nearby Ponil Canyon, bearing railcars carrying Douglas fir and ponderosa pine destined to become railroad ties and supports for coal mines. The tracks were eventually removed during World War II and recycled to help with the steel shortage.

The official website of Cimarron now describes the town as peaceful, although the page proudly boasts the slogan “Where the West is Still Wild.” Instead of leaping to avoid bullets fired at their feet from six-shooters, newcomers can explore museums and historic buildings around town, including the old jail, stage office, and supposedly haunted St. James Hotel with a ceiling still bearing bullet holes above the bar. The Blü Dragonfly Brewing Company is the newest addition to town having just opened in August, where you can find craft brews and a beer garden, rather than pistol-packing outlaws playing poker in a smoke-filled back room (probably, anyway).

While our journey carried us straight past Cimarron, the small town with a population of around 900 might be exactly what you’re seeking for your next western adventure. We’re not writing it off – maybe we’ll be back on a future trip, we just didn’t have a desire to see it as we left Cimarron Canyon State Park. But if your travels take you through the once wild town of Cimarron, try the beer at Blü Dragonfly and keep your ears open for a good ghost story. I’d appreciate hearing about both around the cookfire when our wagons cross further down the trail.

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SOURCES

1. As mentioned earlier, the official website of Cimarron provided a small amount of background history and current information on the town.
2. The Cimarron entry on the Legends of America website provided details on the people passing through town in the 1800s, as well as some of the historical details. Some of the dates listed on this page seem to conflict with info on the Wikipedia entry (mainly involving Reverend Tolby and the Colfax County War), but they were close enough to not merit further research and risk messing up a good story in the name of purely accurate historical fact.
3. And as always, the Wikipedia entry for Cimarron provided basic historical facts and demographic data.