A Guide for Day Hikers and History Buffs

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Bland, N.M.



Gold and silver were discovered in Bland Canyon and nearby Collie Canyon in 1890. The boom town of Bland, located in the Jemez Mountains west of Santa Fe sprung up that same year. Bland was described by The Rocky Mountain News as the "new Cripple Creek" which no doubt enticed any number of miners to pull up stakes and rush to New Mexico.  The fledgling community was called Eagle Township or Eagle City, it wasn't until 1894 when the post office was established that it officially became known as Bland.

It's generally accepted that the town was named after U.S. Sen. Richard Bland of Missouri, who was an advocate against the demonetization of silver coinage. Although, a family of saloon keepers named Bland, who were among the town's earliest residents, may have influenced the choice. The town grew along a narrow stretch of Bland Canyon that was only 60' wide in most places. The tight quarters put building space at a premium, and led to a haphazard layout of homes and businesses.  In a few cases the walls of the canyon were blasted out to make more room for living space. Which led to the quintessential Bland story, of the homeowner who without enough backyard for an outhouse, was forced to build one in front of his home. Some houses were perched on the slopes, giving them a unique vantage point.


Bland was a boom town, the Cochiti Mining District was very productive and miners flooded in looking for work.  The population swelled to over 3,000 residents, combined with nearby Albemarle (3 miles west in Collie Canyon)  this made for a concentration of folks not commonly seen in the Jemez. During those early days, the lack of facilities forced many a jobseeker to sleep on the sidewalk or anywhere he could find a spot not already claimed. The town had a dozen saloons, two banks, a school, an opera house, a hotel, churches, a newspaper (The Herald) and an assortment of stores.  A woman known as "Diamond Queen" ran the town's red light district, which served a steady flow of customers. Both Bland and Albemarle had electricity, with the lines running all the way from Madrid, 30 miles east. The generator was powered by coal from the Hagan Mine, located at Una de Gato Arroyo and served a number of communties in the area.


By 1894 there was an ore mill that ran round the clock and four sawmills in full operation. The industrialization was starting to take its toll on the wilderness area, travelers making the stage coach journey from Santa Fe to Bland were often shocked to see a number of dead birds, coyotes, racoons and other animals along the stream that ran parallel with the road. This was the result of toxic waste run-off (cyanide, chlorine, mercury) from the mills. The milling process had ill effects on the miners as well, the mill at Albemarle gave off noxious fumes that could be smelled a mile away. The millworkers suffered from ulcerous sores on their skin and lung lesions, so many workers fell ill that it became known as the "Albemarle Mankiller"


The outcry that arose over the eviromental mismanagement at Bland and Albemarle, led to the creation of The Santa Fe National Forest shortly after production tailed off. The U.S. government stepped in to claim all unicorporated land around Bland and Ablemarle, leaving only the building rights in private hands. This in spite of the fact that there were still several active mine patents in the Cochiti District. With so many miners crowded in together you would think that Bland was a violent place. That however was not the case, Bland was lively and at times rough, but quite benign. Although, Albemarle did gain a reputation as the place to go to let off steam.

As was the case all over New Mexico, by 1904 production had begun to weaken. By 1906 most production had ceased with miners and merchants moving on to more lucrative surroundings. The town's bread and butter, the silver and gold mines were played out. A few civic minded types held on, in an attempt to keep the community alive. A good indicator of Bland's continued occupation after the mines closed, is that the post office stayed open until 1935.  Many abandoned towns in New Mexico quickly fell prey to opportunistic homebuilders from nearby settlements. Folks looking for cheap or free building materials and vandals dismantled a good portion of this state's history. But, that's where Bland's location saved it from such a fate, the rough road up the canyon kept many would be scavengers at bay. Plus the town was never totally deserted, through the years just enough people lived there, to safeguard a good part of Bland's infrastructure. 


With active mine patents still on the books, several people held on to their property in Bland, just in case there was another boom period. As the years passed by, those deeds were consolidated, leading up to Effie Jenks becoming the sole owner after her husband's death. By the time Effie Jenks arrived in Santa Fe, Bland's heyday was just a distant memory. Effie was the head Harvey Girl at the historic La Fonda on the Santa Fe Plaza. She had married Thomas Jenks, a mining engineer who had plans to revive gold mining at Bland. It was to this end that they purchased the entire townsite of Bland and several mining claims in 1938.

Sadly Thomas Jenks passed away before his dreams could be realized. Effie hired a caretaker to look after the property and continued to live and work in Santa Fe.  In the mid-1960's, Effie retired from La Fonda and moved to Bland. Effie who was a bit eccentric (to say the least) declared herself "The Mayor of Bland." She would hold court  at The Exchange Hotel on the those rare occasions when visitors would venture out from Santa Fe. She wrote and published a weekly newsletter for the inhabitants of the canyon (birds and animals) which she would read aloud under a shade tree, stopping to admonish jays, squirrels or bunnies for not paying attention.

A trio of high school kids from Los Alamos once trespassed onto her property and were promptly marched to The Exchange Hotel by her shotgun wielding caretaker. The juveniles explained that they were researching a story on Bland for the school newspaper. Effie then handed each paper and pencils and proceeded to dictate the history of Bland to them.  A similar story involved two young men who climbed over the gate at the entrance road and were met by Effie's caretaker pointing a shotgun at them. After some fast talking to convince him that they were just curious, he led them to his cabin and lectured them on the history of Bland for a couple of hours. Effie was apparently gone from the property at the time, thus sparing them from having to take notes. 

Effie died in 1983 having lived out her life in the town she owned and loved. Before her death she sold seven acres to Helen Blount (this included most of the town's remaining buildings, the Exchange Hotel, the Doctor's House, the Tavern and the Shadow House) Helen had grown up in Bland, her family having moved there in 1931. The Blount's were self sufficient and Helen enjoyed an idyllic childhood in Bland Canyon. As a young adult, Helen moved to Albuquerque but often returned to Bland to drop in on Effie Jenks.  When Effie was no longer able to care for herself, Helen moved back to Bland and cared for her during her final years. That Bland survived as long as it did is due to the efforts of Helen Blount. After her death in 2005, Helen was buried at the Bland cemetery and ownership of the town was passed down to her daughter Alley Helmer. 


Ghost Town Lamentations



For almost 122 years Bland, N. M. withstood the test of time and man. Situated as it was along  the bottom of a narrow stretch of Bland Canyon, its isolation spared it from the destructive effects that commonly plague ghost towns (vandals, looters, hunters) The town's true saving grace was that since the 1940's, it was privately owned and behind a locked gate.

Bland has always been at the top of my list of New Mexico ghost towns I needed to visit. That will never happen, the huge Las Conchas fire that roared through the Jemez Wilderness, reduced the remnants of that former boom town to a pile of ashes. The Holy Grail of New Mexico's abandoned places (though it was never totally abandoned) is no more, gone with the wind and smoke.

Whenever a major fire would break out in the Jemez, I would think of Bland and although other burns had come close, none had caused any damage to the dozen or so structures that remained. Now, everything including the historic Exchange Hotel has vanished along with their long historical legacy. Only a solitary chicken coop and a couple of picnic tables survived the inferno.

I was once obsessed with Bland, the fact that it was on private property didn't deter me. The more I read about the town and its unique location the more determined I became.  In the spring of 1996, following a trip to the Dixon apple orchard, I took the road into Bland Canyon. Upon reaching the locked gate, I scribbled a quick note with my phone number, requesting permission to enter, I never received a response. *(In all fairness  it was a long distance call, back when those could be expensive)

A few weeks passed, I returned to Bland Canyon, this time I parked near the locked gate and decided to hike along the peripheral. Having heard stories of trespassers being met by a large Native American man armed with a shotgun, I took care to stay out of sight. I poked around, but never found a suitable spot that would afford me a view of the townsite. As my search continued, I found a few prospect pits, some rusted tin cans, but nothing of any significance. 

I sensed that I was close to the dwellings, at one point I  saw smoke curling up into the sky and smelled burning cedar. I also heard dogs barking, and they barked louder as I got closer to the canyon bottom. Knowing that the dogs would alert the caretakers to my presence, I hiked back to my truck. I left a note with my phone number and once again received no response. 


The following month, I went back, this time I took a different route and after some strenuous hiking and climbing I was rewarded with my first glimpse of The Exchange Hotel, or at least the roof. I worked my way towards a higher vantage point and took several photos with a cheap disposable camera. I could make out two vehicles parked in front of one building, but I didn't hear any dogs this time. As I started back to my vehicle, I had to fight off a strong urge to move in even closer.

It would be almost a year before I was back in the area, this time I was determined to find Bland's neighboring mining camp, Albemarle.  The notorious road leading to Bland's neighbor was rough even with four-wheel drive. Reluctant to horsewhip my Toyota pick-up, I hiked in from about two miles out. The remnants of Albemarle did not disappoint as I found several mine portals, a couple of dugout cabins, a scattering of timbers, trash piles and an old wooden trestle bridge. 

On the return trip I stopped at the Bland gate, then on the spur of the moment, I hiked back to my lookout post.  The place was quiet, there were no signs of life, no vehicles, no smoke, no dogs. I sat there debating whether I should go down and look around. However, I couldn't bring myself to do it... bad enough that I was trespassing. For several minutes I allowed the image of Bland to load onto my memory bank, then I shouldered my pack and left.



                                           Bland
I've been to many a ghost town, but I've yet to see a ghost.
That's not to say they don't dwell in those threadbare abodes
or that I doubt their existence. The shadowy apparitions
do linger about... at times announcing their presence 
by causing a tingling sensation ...a static electrical charge, 
this is often followed by a harvest of goosebumps, 
fleeting thoughts of panic and a reassuring sigh of relief.

Most abandoned places have an aura, an invisible emanation
of supernatural energy, that seems to arise and surround me
as I break through the continuum of solitude and silence
that became the norm with the departure of commerce.
How drastic the transformation, once a beehive of activity,  
alive with the action of drilling, blasting, ripping and sawing 
now bird calls and foot steps echo off the canyon walls.

May they rest in peace the ghostly legions of Bland, 
for they've patiently waited for this day to arrive,
now with their earthly home no longer anchoring them down
they're free to move about the ethereal regions unbound.