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Rediscovering Cuervo, NM

Writer's picture: Taylor OsbornTaylor Osborn

Updated: Nov 18, 2024




After months stuck indoors, I needed a warm-up adventure to shake off the rust. Something low-key but full of character. Enter Cuervo, New Mexico. A ghost town just a couple hours east of Albuquerque, easy to get to and perfect for easing back into exploring mode. With Bruce and Bill — my adventure-ready dogs — by my side, we hit the road.




Getting There from Albuquerque


Cuervo’s a straight shot east on I-40. From Albuquerque, it’s about 120 miles of easy highway driving. You’ll pass Santa Rosa, then keep an eye out for exit 291. Once you’re off the interstate, you’re practically in Cuervo already. The whole town is scattered right along the frontage road.



A Bit of History


Cuervo’s been hanging on since the early 1900s. Originally a ranching town, it grew with Route 66, but like so many small towns, it couldn’t survive the interstate reroute. Businesses folded, people left, and Cuervo slowly slipped into silence. It’s still got a handful of residents, though, and if you look closely, you’ll notice a trend in these ghost towns: the post office, the bar, and the church are usually the last things to go; usually in that order. Cuervo’s post office and bar are long gone, but the beautiful Catholic church is still standing, kept up by a few locals who care enough to make repairs. They’ve asked the Santa Fe diocese for a priest to come out and hold mass, but it’s “too remote” for regular visits. A little sad, but also kind of fitting.



Exploring Cuervo


The day was perfect — blue skies, light breeze, and golden sun; October in New Mexico. Cuervo’s stillness makes it a cooperative enough subject. But it’s not silent. The roar of the freeway is always in the background, a reminder of how thoroughly the world has passed this place by.


Bruce and Bill trotted ahead, inspecting every scrap and corner, tails up and on alert. The crunch of gravel underfoot mixed with the rustle of weeds poking through cracked foundations. We wandered through the ruins, the freeway’s hum a constant white noise.


Somewhere around the old church, a rancher pulled up in his truck. We chatted for a moment, but he was there to retrieve his own dog, who had abandoned her post on the ranch to join Bruce and Bill who, having never done a day's work in their life, tore around the ruins with their new friend, kicking up dust in a cloud of tangled legs and wagging tails.



The Art of Letting Go

Exploring towns like Cuervo is a reminder that change isn’t something to fight. Cuervo isn’t what it used to be, and it won’t stay like this forever, either. But there’s an acceptance in its decay. Despite being short a priest, the locals keep up the old church, but they seem to like it the way it is. No need to fuss about things you can't change.


This is New Mexico’s quiet gift to those who wander through: a lesson in letting things be. The past hangs on, the future trickles in, and in the middle, places like Cuervo carry on, quietly teaching us that not everything needs fixing. Sometimes, it’s enough to just let it be.



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cgardlange
Oct 31, 2024

What a marvelous travel into this world, filled with the echoes of lives once vibrant here and the debris that remains when that vitality diminishes. Thank you

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