Exploring New Mexico’s Roads: Cattle Drives and Fresh-Baked Pies

In the vast expanse of the American West, the stories of bygone eras echo along its lonely highways. Scott Thybony embarks on a journey through New Mexico, exploring the historical trails and unexpected delights that dot this desolate landscape.

For those who feel at ease on deserted roads, Route 60 east of Springerville, Arizona offers a sense of homecoming. This stretch of road, devoid of traffic, traces the path of an ancient cattle trail leading to the railhead in Magdalena, New Mexico, spanning over a hundred miles.

Tony Norris, a cowboy historian known for his storytelling, once shared tales of this trail. “The trip,” he remarked, “was a coming of age experience for young Mormon cowboys. Many a worried mother watched her child head out with the family herd, praying he would return safely from the dangers of the trail and the temptations of that rough cowtown called Magdalena.”

Evans Coleman, a cowboy from 1895, once traversed the Magdalena Trail with his herd. One evening, he arrived at camp, debilitated by a severe pain. Diagnosed with “mud fever,” the trail boss administered Triple-H Liniment, reputedly effective for “Man and Beast.” Despite the harsh treatment, Coleman managed to survive.

Amidst the solitude, the highway reaches Pie Town, renowned for its delectable pies. Travelers can savor blueberry and pecan pies, or opt for a daring New Mexican apple pie infused with green chili and pine nuts. During a lunch stop, Thybony observed a group dressed in western attire, all wearing gunbelts, leaving him to wonder about the cultural quirks of local weddings.

Continuing across the Continental Divide, the road leads to a former ranger cabin from the 1930s, now the Baldwin Cabin Public Library. Located near Dead Horse Mesa and five miles from Datil, this remote library was established by two women in 1999 to provide summer reading for local children. Despite being open just nine hours weekly, Thybony and his wife managed a visit. Co-founder Linn Kennedy noted that although the library had been burgled, no books were ever stolen, as “thieves don’t read.”

Further east, the old trail crosses the Plains of San Agustin, a 30-mile stretch once devoid of water. Even in such desolation, traffic lightens, with perhaps a car or two in sight. While Jack Kerouac romanticized the open road, Thybony finds solace in these almost empty paths.

Scott Thybony is a Flagstaff-based writer. His Canyon Commentaries are produced by KNAU Arizona Public Radio and air on the last Friday of each month.