Ghost Towns West of Tucumcari, New Mexico
The vast and undulating landscapes of eastern New Mexico, a canvas painted with ochre hues and punctuated by the resilient flora of the American Southwest, hold secrets whispered on the wind. As travelers venture westward from the vibrant town of Tucumcari along the historic path of old Route 66, they embark on a journey not just across geographical space, but also through time. This legendary highway, a ribbon of asphalt clinging to the earth, runs parallel to the iron veins of the railway, both arteries that once pulsed with the lifeblood of commerce and westward expansion. The scenery unfolds as a tapestry woven with cultivated fields, their geometric patterns a testament to human endeavor, and sprawling prairies where yucca plants stand like sentinels and bunchgrass sways in the arid breeze. Sandstone outcroppings, sculpted by millennia of wind and rain, rise from the earth, their rugged beauty a stark contrast to the tranquil pastures where cattle graze, seemingly oblivious to the echoes of history that permeate the air.
But it is not just the natural beauty of this region that captivates the imagination. Scattered along this stretch of Route 66, stretching onward toward Santa Rosa, lie the skeletal remains of once-thriving communities – ghost towns that stand as poignant reminders of dreams realized and ultimately relinquished. These spectral settlements, including Montoya, Newkirk, and Cuervo, whisper tales of ambition, resilience, and the inevitable ebb and flow of fortune. They are silent witnesses to the transformative power of the railroad and the allure of the open road, testaments to the human spirit’s capacity for both creation and abandonment. To explore these ghost towns west of Tucumcari, New Mexico, is to delve into the heart of the American West, to confront the ephemeral nature of progress, and to contemplate the stories etched into the weathered facades of forgotten buildings.
The journey into the past begins approximately 22 miles west of Tucumcari, where the remnants of Montoya stand guard on either side of the old highway. Approaching this defunct village, one is immediately struck by the sense of desolation that permeates the air. A somber introduction to Montoya awaits on the south side of the road: an old cemetery, its weathered headstones standing as silent markers of lives lived and lost in this now-forgotten place. This town, initially named Roundtree, owes its existence to the arrival of the Southern Pacific Railroad in 1902, which transformed it into a vital loading point for goods and livestock. Even before the roar of the steam engine shattered the silence of the plains, a small community had already taken root here, drawn by the promise of opportunity and the allure of the untamed West. The ghost towns west of Tucumcari, New Mexico hold a special place for those that love history and the wild west.
On the north side of Route 66, a cluster of timeworn buildings stands behind a protective fence, now part of a private ranch. These structures, once integral to the lifeblood of Montoya, bear the scars of time and neglect, their weathered facades whispering tales of bustling commerce and everyday lives. In the not-so-distant past, these buildings stood exposed to the elements, surrounded by the vast expanse of the prairie. Today, they are partially obscured by the presence of modern industrial-style buildings, a stark reminder of the encroachment of the present upon the past. Yet, despite the passage of time and the changing landscape, these resilient structures continue to stand, defying the relentless forces of decay and serving as a tangible link to Montoya’s vibrant history.
Among the most notable landmarks in Montoya is the two-story rock house, a testament to the enduring craftsmanship of Sylvan R. Hendren and Maria Ignacia Ulibarri Hendren. Built with the sweat and determination of these pioneering settlers, this structure, affectionately known as "Casa Alta" (tall/high house), served as a sanctuary and a symbol of their unwavering commitment to building a life in the rugged New Mexico territory. According to Ramona Taylor, Hendren’s great-granddaughter, her ancestors played a significant role in settling this region, contributing to the growth and development of the community. The "Casa Alta" was a four-room dwelling, with a living room and kitchen on the first level, and two spacious bedrooms on the second. A large cistern, strategically located behind the home, provided a vital source of water in this arid environment. The story of the Hendren family is interwoven with the fabric of Montoya’s history, a testament to the resilience and resourcefulness of the early settlers who dared to carve a life out of the unforgiving landscape.
With the advent of Route 66, Montoya experienced a surge in activity, transforming into a vital stopover point for travelers traversing the Mother Road. Businesses sprang up to cater to the needs of these early motorists, including Richardson’s Store and Sinclair Station, which opened its doors in 1925. This bustling mercantile served as a popular stopping point for decades, providing essential supplies, refreshments, and a welcome respite from the long and arduous journey. Richardson’s Store remained in operation until the mid-1970s, when its owner passed away. Today, the remnants of this once-thriving establishment can still be seen beyond a chain-link fence, a poignant reminder of its former glory. The old gas pumps, which once dispensed fuel to countless travelers, are now gone, leaving behind only empty spaces and fading memories. Nearby, another dilapidated building bears the faded inscription "Cold Beer," a testament to the enduring appeal of a refreshing beverage on a hot desert day. Two tall concrete posts stand sentinel in front of the building, suggesting that it, too, may have once served as a gas station. Intriguingly, an old-fashioned wooden teeter-totter sits east of the "Cold Beer" building, a whimsical reminder of the simpler pleasures of childhood. In between these structures lies a large foundation, suggesting that a school once stood on this site, nurturing the minds of the next generation of Montoya residents. The ghost towns west of Tucumcari, New Mexico are like frozen memories of the past.
West of Montoya, the old highway continues its meandering journey across the plains, a landscape dotted with juniper, mesquite, and an increasing number of crumbling buildings. For the next 12 miles, the road traverses the historic Goodnight-Loving Trail, a legendary cattle route that once saw thousands of head of cattle driven northward to markets in Denver, Colorado, and Cheyenne, Wyoming. This stretch of road serves as a reminder of the region’s rich ranching heritage, a legacy that continues to shape the culture and economy of eastern New Mexico.
The next stop on this journey through time is Newkirk, another ghost town that stands as a silent testament to the ebb and flow of fortune. Originally known as Conant, this settlement changed its name in 1901 when the railroad arrived, adopting the name of a local resident from Newkirk, Oklahoma. Newkirk experienced a period of slow but steady growth, bolstered by the arrival of Route 66. In the 1930s, the town boasted a population of approximately 240 residents, but its fortunes began to decline by the mid-1940s, when its population dwindled to around 115. Despite its declining population, Newkirk continued to serve as a vital stopover point for travelers along the Mother Road, offering a range of services, including four gas stations, two restaurants, a trading post, and a few cabins.
As one enters Newkirk, the remnants of the old Shamrock gas station serve as a stark reminder of the town’s former vibrancy. Nearby, the faded sign of the C and S Bar, also known as Carlos’s place, hints at a time when this establishment served as a gathering place for locals and travelers alike. Further down the road, a collection of dilapidated shacks and a broken-up wooden train car stand as poignant reminders of the hardships faced by early settlers, who often converted these rudimentary structures into makeshift homes. Next, one encounters the remains of Wilkerson’s Store and Gulf Gas station, which managed to survive the I-40 bypass until 1989, a testament to its enduring appeal. Nearby, an unidentified crumbling motel and a small building with a sign that reads "Figural Bottles" suggest the presence of an antique store, a haven for collectors and history buffs. The post office, established in 1910, doubled as a gas station and a store, a vital hub for communication and commerce. Though long since shut down, the fading relic still stands, a silent sentinel of Newkirk’s past.
Just a bit further down the old road, an open Phillips 66 station stands in stark contrast to the surrounding desolation. It is an oddity that this town, with off-ramps from both directions of the interstate, has faded into oblivion. South of the Phillips 66 station, next to I-40, stands an old church, its adobe structure cracked and weathered, its doors obscured by weeds. This abandoned place of worship, devoid of life and activity, serves as a poignant reminder of the spiritual heart of the community that once thrived here.
Continuing along the old road, one must proceed with caution, as the surface is rough and narrow, with numerous low spots that can quickly fill with water during periods of rain and snow. Approximately nine miles ahead lies Cuervo, another ghost town that awaits exploration.
Between 1901 and 1903, the Southern Pacific Railroad extended its reach through Cuervo, giving rise to a new town. Named after nearby Cuervo Hill, "Cuervo" is the Spanish word for "crow," a bird that is abundant in the area. The ghost towns west of Tucumcari, New Mexico are a treasure for any traveler.
Around 1910, the land surrounding Cuervo was opened to cattle ranching, triggering a land boom that fueled the town’s growth. The arrival of Route 66 further boosted Cuervo’s fortunes, creating a demand for gas stations and hotels. At its peak, Cuervo boasted two schools, two churches, two hotels, two doctors, and numerous other businesses. In the 1930s, the town reportedly had a population of almost 300 residents. However, by the mid-1940s, its population had already declined to less than 150.
The construction of I-40 had a devastating impact on Cuervo, as the superhighway sliced through the residential section of the town, burying parts of it beneath its concrete expanse. Dependent on the travelers of the Mother Road, Cuervo immediately began to decline. Today, the area still supports around 50 people, who primarily reside on the south side of I-40 and on outlying ranches.
The Catholic Church, built during World War I, still stands on the south side of I-40, a testament to the enduring faith of the community. Also on the south side, one of the remaining schools, constructed sometime in the 1930s, stands as well, despite having closed around 1961. Other old residences and outbuildings also remain.
On the north side of I-40, where old Route 66 runs, one can find an abandoned gas station constructed from an old railroad car, as well as the crumbling relic of the once-popular Baptist Church, a ghost farm, and other abandoned buildings. The old combination post office/grocery store stands at the end of the road, a silent sentinel of Cuervo’s past.
From Cuervo, the old Mother Road continues its journey toward Santa Rosa. Along this 17-mile stretch, travelers should keep an eye out for the old Frontier Museum on the south side of I-40. This museum complex and Western-themed tourist trap, which opened in the early 1950s, operated for only a short time. Here, children once rode horses, adults enjoyed a beer, and families gathered at the Frontier Cafe. Today, only the faded remains, littered with debris, speak of the glory days of Route 66. These ghost towns west of Tucumcari, New Mexico are a reminder of our past.