I don’t know why I am drawn to ruins, but there is something about the impermanence of life that has always been appealing (Sic transit gloria Mundi).   Perhaps along with the idea that buried treasure might be nearby.   Fort Union was an important frontier outpost along the Santa Fe Trail.   I have driven by many times and wanted to stop, but M always said “there’s nothing there”.  That was possibly true when he visited as a child many years ago, but I decided that this time I would go and see for myself.   And of course I have this love of ruins and forgotten places.

And there it is, lovely adobe ruins.   Made from earth, water and sunshine now devolving back into the earth from which they came.

Of course since this now a National Landmark, archaeologists are trying to stabilize and preserve the buildings from further decay.  To help us remember the past, which was not always pretty.

The post was entirely adobe, except for this well preserved stone jail.   An adobe jail would hold a prisoner for a few hours, you could escape using only a spoon.

The walls have melted away, leaving only the chimneys.  And the shapes they have melting into  somehow reminder me of the heads on Easter Island.

The hearth that warmed the occupants is all that’s left, a ghost in the wall.

This bit hides a modern sound system.  And it sounds  bugle calls at the appropriate times, so the spirits of the soldiers can answer the call.

I love northern New Mexico, it is so lonesome an area, full of ghost towns and ghosts.  Before the coming of paved roads and the railroads, pretty much every place was equal, you might as well be in one place as in another.   But the places that offered some geographic advantage grew into cities, like Denver or Albuquerque, connected by main roads and the rest have been left to slowly decay.

Before there were paved roads there was the Santa Fe Trail,  people would pile as much stuff as they could fit into a wagon like this and set off for a new life in the wild west.   More than 130 years later the wagon ruts are still there, testament to the fragility of the prairie and the number of wagons that made the trek.

This is the old Colfax County Courthouse.   Built to last, this lovely building has outlived it’s original purpose and now serves as a small museum to the Santa Fe Trail.   They really only started to promote  the existence of the Santa Fe Trail and the history of this area about 10 years ago, so they don’t get a lot of tourists (and there is not much to see and do).  Most people don’t get off the Interstate (motorway) except to get gasoline.   (This is on old highway 85 which ran from Mexico to Canada).

Why build a livery stable of something as ephemeral as wood?   We will always need horses, of courses.  It’s still here even though the horse is long gone, but they did get rid of the trough.

It has no sign, but this is the old jail.  There must not have been much call for this with only four cells or perhaps it was very crowded, with the very bad prisoners being sent to the Santa Fe Territorial Prison.

This old hotel is slowly crumbling away.   Part lumber and part adobe, it still exists for now, even though the need for it has passed.   I love these old ruins, as the dinosaur that I am I appreciate those who went before us as I watch their dreams fade away.