Ghost towns of New Mexico: Madera

Back in 2000, I was hiking with a group of friends along the ridgeline of the Sandia Mountains when we encountered another group of women hikers. They told us that they were the East Mountain Hiking and Gardening Society, and I responded that I was glad there was such a group, because I'd always wanted to live in the mountains, and if I got a chance to do so, I'd happily join their group.

One of the women smiled at me. "If you're serious, I've got the lot for you to build on," she said, and handed me her card. 

That evening, I told my husband that I'd found the lot for our retirement home. "Where is it?" he asked. "I don't know," I replied. "How big is it?" he asked. Again, I responded with "I don't know." The questions kept coming. Was it in the tall pines, or down in the scrub lands? Did it have water? What was the view like? How much did it cost? My answer remained the same. I didn't know anything about the lot except that a nice lady at the top of the mountain said I should see it.

The next weekend, armed with a set of driving directions and nothing else, we traveled a winding road we'd never known existed, let alone been on, and in 45 minutes, came to our lot. We fell instantly in love. Yes, it was in the tall ponderosas. Better yet, the back lot line abutted the national forest. Yes, it had a well, and a stream ran close by. Yes, the view was spectacular. We could see all the way to Santa Fe, nearly 50 miles away. And the cost was far less than we'd imagined. Being miles out on a dirt road can do that to land prices. 

And so, we bought it. For fifteen years, we had nothing on the lot except a picnic table, six chairs, and a charcoal grill. We'd come out on Sunday afternoons and hike around before we grilled some hamburgers or steaks, then head home. When there was a meteor shower, I'd drag my sons up and we'd spend the night on a quilt. The sky up here is phenomenal.

We hadn't owned the land long when I ran across a dilapidated old adobe building about a mile down the road from my property. Its roof was partially caved in, its windows and doors open to the elements, but it may have looked very much like this old stop, located closer to Santa Fe. I mentioned it to a neighbor, who replied I'd found the old building that used to be a stagecoach stop, general store, and dancehall for the town of La Madera. I was intrigued. I'd never heard of La Madera and couldn't find it on any maps. Fortunately for me, I found snippets of Madera’s history in Timelines of the East Mountains, a massive tome published by the East Mountain Historical Society.

 

La Madera seems to have been settled around 1849 by families who were part of the San Pedro Land Grant. The census of 1850, records fifteen dwellings in the town and lists the names of the male head of household for each. A decade later, the town had grown to 35 dwellings, occupied by 25 families. All the names on these censuses were Hispanic. But with the annexation of New Mexico following the Mexican American War, those demographics were bound to change. 

Madera means wood or lumber in Spanish, and timber was cut in La Madera Canyon, just south of the village, for many years. I've been told, although I haven't found documentation, that many of the vigas, or ceiling beams in the old adobe houses in Albuquerque's Old Town come from La Madera. A man who lived in nearby Sand Antonito and went by the name of Leonard Skinner ran a sawmill near the top of La Madera Canyon in the late 1800s. There are many old roads through the wilderness in my area. Most of them are so overgrown that they are hard to spot, and most seem to wander into an area, then disappear. I am sure they were roads cut to stands of trees which were harvested and have since grown back.

Another source of revenue for the community was lime, extracted from the area's limestone. By 1866, a lime kiln was located just north of the village. Although lime was rarely used in adobe construction, the increased use of bricks for building after New Mexico became a U.S. territory made it a sought-after commodity. 

In 1875 a man named Henry Caldwell bought land just south of La Madera, which he used for farming and livestock. I believe those fields, cleared from the forest, are still visible, although I've been told that those  fields belonged to the village. Caldwell sold some of his land to the Sandia Mining & Smelting Company, and for a short while a small community called Sandia City was established. I am not sure if the lime kiln north of town was related to this company or a separate venture. There are several places in Madera Canyon where mining is evident, and many of the old roads lead to them. 

Big and fateful changes came to the village of La Madera in 1880, when the San Pedro & Canyon del Agua Water Company built a dam in Madera Canyon that was 80 feet tall, 300 feet wide, and 20 feet thick. The 1880 census listed 54 non-New Mexican men, all under the age of 40, living in tents near the construction site. The company filed a "Notice of Possession" that stated it was taking the water in La Madera Canyon for their exclusive use. It intended to pipe water to the mines at San Pedro. A newspaper article in September 1880 noted that a reservoir south of town was dried up, as was an acequia that should have fed a fenced in field. Both the reservoir and the acequia may have become dry because of the upstream dam. 

Interestingly, the San Pedro & Canyon del Agua Water Company tried to enlist Ulysses S. Grant to be their president. The former general and U.S. president toured the site, but declined to join the company. It is interesting to me that Grant walked through my neighborhood!

Early in 1881, the water project was finally completed, but soon after water was let into the cast iron, lap-welded pipes, several sections burst, and the scheme was given up. No water from Madera Canyon ever made it to the San Pedro mines, but the dam still deprived the village of the water they needed for crops and other purposes. 

Madera saw a boom during the last decade of the nineteenth century, when many mine claims were filed at a place "commonly known as Sierra de los Escobas," or Escobar, which translates into "place of diggings." This site was about 1/2 mile from the town of La Madera. It may of been this influx of miners that led to the first public school being established in La Madera in 1894. 

The town is gone now. We who live in its shadow have to drive 6 miles, to Sandia Park, to pick up our mail. The old church survives and remains in excellent condition because it's been converted into a private home. Across the street, the old store, saloon, stage stop and dance hall is mouldering away. On a hill a mile or so east is the old cemetery on a road appropriately called Boot Hill. There are some old gravestones there, plus newer ones which stand testament to the families who have lived here for generations. 

I am a newcomer to the neighborhood, but I still treasure the timbered canyon and the pristine skies, which I have found inspiring.  I've written two books that use La Madera Village and Canyon as its setting. 

The first, Raven Quest, is a fantasy for middle grade readers. The story is very loosely based on the history of the area, and its theme is the struggle for control of water, something which is very important here in the arid south west.  The fenced in field mentioned as being south of town in the September 1880 newspaper article becomes in my story the pasture where the main character takes his sheep, and the dam that deprived the village of its water is the scene of the story's climactic battle.

The second book, The Winding Road to Wallace, is a Western Romance, which takes place in a cabin in that same field, in the town of La Madera, and in the railroad boom town (now ghost town) of Wallace. It is scheduled to be released May 1, 2026 and will soon be available for preorder. If you'd like to read an advanced reader copy, apply here. 

The village of La Madera may be gone, but its legacy and the beauty of the surrounding area continue to inspire me and, I hope, others.