5/24/25: Socorro, Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, & Belén

Steven and I had arrived the night before in the small town of Socorro, the gateway to the Plains of San Agustin and the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge. The town's name is derived from Conquistador Don Juan de Oñate, whose caravan was provided with maize by the El Piro Indian pueblo on the west bank of the Rio Grande. De Oñate renamed the village using the Spanish word for succor, "socorro." 

Though we’d planned to head south twenty miles directly to the refuge, one of the largest refuges in the country that morning, once we caught a view of the town's time-warp plaza, we decided to explore Socorro a bit. 

On the central plaza, the Capital Bar & Brewery has been in operation for over 125 years. Just imagine the stories their creaky wood floors could tell!

Socorro's New Mexico Institute of Mining & Technology has been training engineers since 1899 on its mission-style campus. 

It's hard to escape spotting images of "little green men" and references to UFOs when traveling through New Mexico, even though the heart of alleged alien landings in the state is in Roswell, a fair distance from Socorro.

We then drove for about twenty miles on the El Camino Real National Scenic Byway, named for the centuries-old path explorers took from Mexico City as they sought fame and fortune in Nuevo México, to the Wildlife Refuge, one of at least six in the state. 

However, we first passed the historic San Antonio Church, located in the community of the same name in central New Mexico, which was notably the boyhood home of Conrad Hilton, the founder of the world-famous Hilton Hotels chain.

The Chupadera Mountains were to the west.

Between the Chupaderas and the San Pascual Mountains to the east was the Rio Grande, which helped to create a ribbon of green in the Chihuahuan Desert that attracts millions of birds and other animals. The first stop in the refuge was the Wetlands Roost, the site of an annual sojourn from November through March for thousands of giant sandhill cranes and hundreds of other migratory birds, and, as a result, one of the top birding destinations in the country.

Just in time for me to take a photo, Steven pointed out a roadrunner, New Mexico's state bird, hopping into the brush.

The Marsh Overlook Trail and Boardwalk called our name!

I'm almost ashamed to admit how little we know about birds, considering how far and wide we've traveled around the world. We looked for a while as several red-winged blackbirds flitted over the water and almost hid in the weeds. We spotted other birds, but we couldn't identify them.

This one stood still as a statue for what seemed like ages on a cattail on the water's edge!

In the Turtle Territory visible from the boardwalk in the shallow water, other visitors reported seeing big bend sliders and painted turtles, as well as a red-eared slider, a domestic turtle that had perhaps been set free by a well-meaning pet owner.

I later asked a volunteer ranger at the Visitor Center why so many of the cattails were crushed, and was told that there was a deliberate attempt to eradicate them because they were an invasive species that crowd out native grasses and species.

We then walked along the John Taylor Memorial Trail, named in honor of the refuge's senior biologist and visionary naturalist, who was passionate about restoring the refuge's native habitat for waterfowl and other wildlife that live here year-round. 

We spotted two wild turkeys seeking shade among the cottonwood trees, but they scurried away as we approached.

A park sign stated that one of the goals of the refuge's rangers has been to manage the Rio Grande's reservoirs and irrigation ditches so they can simulate the habitat the river once created.

An information panel indicated that the rangers manipulate the water throughout the year, so that the fields are irrigated and the wetland plants experience the cycles of high and low water that they need to thrive. The refuge grows high-carbohydrate crops, such as corn, to supply birds with the nutrition and energy they need to survive during the winter. Did you know that cranes consume three-quarters of a cup of corn per day?!

Turkeys must have an acute sense of hearing, as they heard us return and quickly scampered away to the cottonwood trees farther away.

After leaving the refuge, Steven and I turned around and headed back north toward Belén, a town Nan, a good Littleton friend, had called home for decades, and suggested we visit. Belén, the Spanish word for Bethlehem, was founded in 1740 on the west bank of the Rio Grande by Spanish explorers. Subsistence farming and ranching were the region's mainstays until the arrival of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad in 1881, which made Belén a key stop for cross-country freight trains. That brought commerce and prosperity to the region.

Sadly, it seemed to us that the town's best days were behind it, with many stores boarded up and many empty streets. Although it was just 35 miles south of Albuquerque, New Mexico's most populous city, it didn't appear to us that the city's wealth had trickled down to Belén. It was challenging to visualize Belén's nickname as Hub City due to its earlier significance as a rail hub. 

However, a sign in the town's most attractive feature recommended that the people of Belén and visitors remember the New Mexico National Guard's 200th and 515th Artillery, who served in World War II and were part of the Bataan Death March. 

As Nan had been such a massive help in planning our New Mexico itinerary, we wanted to explore her old town and send pictures of her old haunts and recommended sights. One was the Belén Hotel, which was built in 1907 and was placed on the National Register of Historic Places. Even though it should have been busy on a Saturday afternoon, the hotel looked dead as a doornail. The hotel was supposed to have been the residence of feminist artist Judy Chicago, but it looked like she must have moved on. 

Nan had thought we'd like Judy's gallery, Through the Flower Art Space, across the street, but it also appeared permanently closed.

Our little red car was the lone one on Becker Ave, the "main drag," but we only saw a handful of cars in the hour we walked around. 

Nan had raved about Pete's Cafe around the corner, so we checked it out, too. It opened in 1949 and was famous for its Chile con queso, described in a tour book as "A melty Velveeta-heavy mess," but you guessed it, it was also closed up tight. I couldn't understand why, especially the historic district, was shut down on a Saturday. None of this made any sense.

Over the bridge from Pete's was the Harvey House Museum, which told stories of the town's past as a major rail hub and of the "Harvey Girls" who worked in the Harvey House Restaurants that were once commonplace on the Santa Fe Railway. As you might have guessed, we struck out again, as the museum was undergoing renovation and was closed!

Returning to pick up our car, we noticed the Belén Art League Gallery and Gift Shop was open - hooray! It had a pretty bench out front and a colorful mural on the side. 

I almost felt guilty for letting Nan know what Belén looked like that Saturday afternoon a month ago, as I knew she had such fond memories of her many years there. I know from personal experience that it's hard going back "home," and finding out how much things have changed, often not for the better. 

Next post: Later that day, we visited the extraordinary Salinas Pueblo Missions National Monument.

Posted on June 27th, 2025, from our home in Denver. Even though the Fourth of July is a whole week away, neighbors are getting a head start on celebrating Independence Day by shooting off their fireworks at the park across from our home! Please take care of yourself and your loved ones.