La Cañada - The Site

The first Spanish speaking settlement along the lower Santa Cruz river was known as La Cañada.

It probably evolved from encomiendas granted to men who either settled close to the natives they were supposed to be protecting or sent their agents to the area to collect tribute. Hernán Martín Serrano, the son of an encomendero, says he was living in La Cañada in 1632.

After the Pueblo Revolt of 1680, while the Spanish refugees were living in El Paso del Norte, Tano speakers from the Gallisteo Basin had moved into the settlement, probably to escape attacks by nomadic tribes and to be closer to their kin at San Juan.

When Diego de Vargas agreed to lead the reconquest, he believed he needed more settlers than those who remained in El Paso and requested reinforcements. According to Angélico Cháves, one group of 67 families had been selected by the viceroy, assembled by Cristóbal de Velasco, and brought north by Francisco Farfán. The second group was “recruited in Zacatecas and the Mines of Sombrerete by Juan Páez Hurtado.”

Vargas arrived in Santa Fé with just the refugees to find so much destruction that housing was scarce. When Farfán arrived with his group, conditions were more congested. The arrival of the Zacatecans was imminent when he negotiated with the Tano speakers from San Lázaro and San Cristóbal to move west of the Río Grande, so he could place the overflow population in La Cañada.

On 21 March 1695, his lieutenant governor, Luis Pérez Granillo, and a sergeant related to Miguel Luján, Juan Ruiz Cáceres, inspected the site. To avoid the calamities of 1598, Granillo had been told to locate a place where:

“they may immediately be given a permanent settlement; lands to sow; grass, woods, water, and watering places; ejidos; pastures; and everything they need to raise every kind of cattle, sheep, and goats.”

Coming down from San Juan, they first came to the hacienda of Juan Luis, then the ruin requested by the Tano for relocation.

At the Luis boundary, they found the estancia of the Martínez, who Cháves has identified as Luis Martín Serrano, brother of the above Hernán.

They crossed the Río Grande and, in order, found the property of the following men along the south side of the cañada:

Miguel Luján - hacienda with “lands for agriculture and irrigation” and limited pastures, with a house.

Marcos de Herrera - “suerte and some agricultural fields.”

Nicolás de la Cruz - “lot and agricultural fields” with a house.

Melchor de Archuleta - land for one family, house in ruins.

Juan Griego - suerte large enough to support two families.

Sebastían González - hacienda that had had three tenants, including Alonso del Río.

Francisco Javier - hacienda large enough for two families, the house in ruins and a small torreón.

Pedro de la Cruz - land and one-room house.

They then crossed an arroyo and returned back up the cañada where they found the lands of the following:

Bartolomé Montoya - hacienda with destroyed house.

Diego López - hacienda and torreón, but apparently no house.

Marcos de Herrera - hacienda, with the remains of a house destroyed by the arroyo.

Santa Clara Pueblo - suerte and convento.

Francisco Gómez - hacienda and house foundations.

Ambrosio Sáez - hacienda that could support two to three families with buildings in tact.

Augustín Romero - hacienda and fields.

In total he found land to support 20 families, and more than twice that were expected to arrive from Zacatecas. Some of the original owners no doubt would claim their lands, leaving space in the capital, but potential overcrowding would still exist in both Santa Fé and the soon to be decreed villa of Santa Cruz.

Notes: Cañada apparently referred to the sandy or dry second bottoms of a river, ejidos were common lands, a suerte was an irrigated field, a torreón was a small defense tower.

Chávez, Angélico. Origins of New Mexico Families, revised 1992 edition.

Granillo, Luis. Report for 12 March 1695, included in Blood on the Boulders: The Journals of Don Diego De Vargas, New Mexico, 1694-97, volume 2, 1998, edited by John L. Kessell, Rick Hendricks, and Meredith D. Dodge.

The Ditch - Later Contributions

Irrigation improvements, like the settlement of the Santa Cruz valley, did not stop when Juan de Oñate was recalled in 1607 and Pedro de Peralta moved the colony to Santa Fé in 1610. However, it’s difficult to recover the history.

Official sources that survive in México are probably distorted by the legal expectations that governors and alcaldes ensure adequate water resources for land grants. If the 1681 Law of the Indies decreed they provide a “good and plentiful water supply for drinking and irrigation,” then that was what would be in the record.

The reality may have been different. San Gabriel was not self sufficient by 1601 when a Franciscan, Juan de Escalona, wrote the viceroy all the corn the natives “had saved for years has been consumed, and not a kernel is left over for them. The whole land has been reduced to such need that the Indians drop dead from starvation wherever they live; and they eat dirt and charcoal ground up with some seeds and a little corn in order to sustain life. Any Spaniard who gets his fill of tortillas here feels he has obtained a grant of nobility.”

He also notes, without more support from the viceroy, “it will be impossible to live here or remain in ths land, for it is very sterile and cold.” He doesn’t know the years from 1598 to 1601 were “exceedingly dry years” with unusually severe winters. Good rains didn’t appear until 1609.

When you look at the backgrounds of the settlers and soldiers who came with Oñate in 1598 you wonder who among them would have had any idea how to establish a farm, let alone an irrigation system. The roster lists used by Angélico Chávez to compile his Origins of New Mexico Families didn’t give occupation, beyond military status, but they did often list place of birth.

Of those born in Europe, twelve came from Anadalucía, but only one from an agricultural area. Six were from the Basque and Galician north, four from the Estramadura which was cattle country, and four from the area of Madrid and Toledo which also favored cattle. In addition, five came from the Canary Islands where there are no rivers for irrigation.

The others whose origins could be identified were from Mexico City or Zacatecas. José Rivera and Thomas Glick think the last may have been the most important because “they brought with them their rich and diverse experiences with irrigation development in Mesoamerica and the Islamic-Iberian Mediterranean world.”

Oñate’s father, Cristóbal Pérez de Oñate arrived in México City in 1524 from the Basque region of Álava. In 1525 he was given the encomienda of Culhuacan by Cortés and in 1528 the tribute from Tacámbara. After the conquest of New Galicia he was given more land in the area where he founded Zacatecas in 1547 after silver was found.

The mine town imported its food, corn for the Indians and mules, wheat for the Spanish and mestizos. The nearest sources were river valleys on high plateaus where irrigation was possible. Later observers noted that crops in New Galicia were sown in the fall for spring harvest with irrigation, while crops sown in the spring required no irrigation.

The younger Oñate could have learned a great deal about the acquisition and distribution of food from his father, but very little about its production.

After he left, the food supply for the mining towns became more reliable, but also more distant. Records for 1635, the first year for which they are available, indicate Bajío had become the major supplier of wheat, which required irrigation to grow. Landholdings in that area had been consolidated to justify the cost of labor for irrigation. Large suppliers included the Carmelite farms in Salavatierra and Augustinian ones in Celaya and Michoacán.

Almost all religious members were from Europe where concepts for water management had been evolving. After some technological advances in 1570, the Netherlands began massive wetland reclamation projects with improved dikes and canals. Skilled Dutchmen were sought by the Prussians, Swedes, Danes, and French. Anyone interested in advanced farming in those years would have been studying their work.

The most likely diffusion route for new irrigation ideas into the Santa Cruz valley was probably the one group Chávez didn’t mention because they founded no recognized families: the Franciscan friars who were closely associated with the Carmelites in México. It only took the implementation of a few new ideas, like long distance transport and distribution grids, to form the acequia system people remember.

Notes:
Bakewell, Peter John. Silver Mining and Society in Colonial Mexico: Zacatecas, 1546-1700, 1971.

Chávez, Angélico. Origins of New Mexico Families, revised 1992 edition; the ones who came after 1598 were primarily military, those who came with Oñate in 1600 and escorts with the supply trains.

Escalona, Juan de. Report to the Viceroy Regarding Spanish Rule in New Mexico, 1 October 1601, included in George P Hammond and Agapito Rey, Don Juan de Oñate, Colonizer of New Mexico, 1595-1628, 1953.

Himmerich y Valencia, Robert. The Encomenderos of New Spain, 1521-1555, 1991, on Oñate senior.

Rivera, José A. and Thomas F. Glick. “1600 - The Iberian Origins of New Mexico’s Community Acequias,” Economic History Congress, 2002; quote Law of the Indies.

Scurlock, Dan. From the Rio to the Sierra: An Environmental History of the Middle Rio Grande Basin, 1998, on tree ring and climate history, including quotations.

The Ditch - Origins

Impoundment dams like the one on the Santa Cruz river may have been an Anglo introduction to the area, but the ditches have a more cosmopolitan background.

When Juan de Oñate arrived at the confluence of the Chama with the Río Grande on 11 July 1598 with 130 soldiers, their families, some Mexican Indian servants and eight Franciscans, he came with an awareness he needed to build an irrigation ditch. In August, he announced his intent and expected the pueblo he called San Juan to provide the labor.

The Tewa speaking group was divided into two groups, the winter people at Caypa to the east of the Chama who were responsible for hunting, and the summer people at Yunque to the west who were responsible for farming. The ones he called San Juan were the winter people.

When his plans failed to materialize, Bradford Pince says Oñate moved into Yunque with its 400 rooms, and forced the two moieties to share the same space. José Rivera and Thomas Glick suggest all he had to do at Yunque was “reconstruct an irrigation ditch sufficient to irrigate the fields to be cultivated in the fertile valley between the two rivers.”

The San Gabriel ditch still exists as the Acequia de Chamita, although the pueblo is long gone.

Local people were already irrigating the land. However, according to Dan Scurlock, they were flooding their fields directly from the creeks rather than building long distance delivery systems with their grid of laterals and head ditches.

Before they planted in the spring, farmers would bring water through wide, shallow canals. When they needed water later in the season, they would construct temporary dams of brush and logs to back water into the canals.

The methods were adequate for their populations in good years. When there was a short drought, they might make a temporary shift. When the drought lasted more than three years, they began moving to new locations. With the migration of new people into the area, the methods probably weren’t up to the increased demands on the available water.

Rivera and Glick say people commonly look to Spain for the source of local ideas about irrigation. After all, many of the most important conquistadors, as well as some of the original settlers, were from the Estremadura where the Romans built two aqueducts at Merida to support a colony of retired soldiers of the Fifth and Tenth Legions in 25bc.

However, after the Moors conquered the city, Merida was virtually abandoned until the 1500's when people were migrating to the New World. During the Moorish occupation, the area had become more dependent on pastoralism than agriculture.

Moorish irrigation was concentrated in Valencia and Murcia, in the southeastern part of Spain. A number of Oñate’s forces came from Andalucía, but mainly the port cities of Cadiz and Cartaya. The only one from Murcia was Juan de Escarramad.

The more important Moorish contribution was the body of laws governing water, including the idea that water must be made available to everyone, that there were limits on how much people upstream could take, and that communal groups determined the distribution of water through their selected leaders.

When Christians drove Moors from an area of the Iberian peninsula, the rulers usually decreed that people should continue to “irrigate in accordance with ancient custom” or as “established and customary in the times of the Muslims.” The word acequia is derived from the Arab word “sagiya.”

One would guess that under threat of starvation the settlers blended their memories of what they had seen from a distance in México and Spain with the techniques used locally.

Alvar Carlson found construction methods remained primitive into territorial times. An ox was used to begin a ditch by pulling a wooden scraper. Men deepened it with hand tools, dumping the dirt onto the embankments. Dams were made of logs and brush, flumes from hollow logs. Rather than remove large trees, men routed ditches around them and trial and error usually defined the final paths.

It was enough so long as the population remained small. When settlements outgrew the existing resources, the solution was always to send groups looking for new land, first up the Santa Cruz, then along tributaries to the Chama and Río Grande. From Santa Fé they moved south.

Notes: San Juan is now called Ohkay Owingeh.

Carlson, Alvar W. The Spanish-American Homeland, 1990.

Chávez, Angélico. Origins of New Mexico Families, revised 1992 edition, on number and characteristics of men who came with Oñate.

Prince, L. Bradford. Spanish Mission Churches of New Mexico, 1915.

Rivera, José A. and Thomas F. Glick. “1600 - The Iberian Origins of New Mexico’s Community Acequias,” Economic History Congress, 2002.

Scurlock, Dan. From the Rio to the Sierra: An Environmental History of the Middle Rio Grande Basin, 1998.

Santa Cruz Dam History - Part 3

As built by Texas contractors, Chris J Veesaert says the Santa Cruz dam was “unstable seismically.” In a ten-year type flood, the spillway would have been overtopped and the dam would likely have failed in a more serious flood. The Bureau of Reclamation redesigned it to be overtopped safely and built a “stabilizing arched buttress against the downstream face” to prevent failure from “erosion of the intensely-fractured granitic supporting abutment rock.”

They couldn’t do anything about the silt that has accumulated at the bottom, reducing the capacity by 34%. When the district releases 8' of water for irrigation, the lake’s fishing dock is no longer usable. The irrigation district has been trying to increase the height of the dam to the level approved in 1929.

In 2000 Congress allocated $100,000 to study the sediment problem. John McCain protested it was an intolerable earmark.

In 2010 the Corps of Engineers awarded a $291,773.00 contract to the URS Group of Dallas for plans and specifications for the dam restoration project.

When I attended the local ditch meeting a few years ago, the majordomo was optimistic it would soon be shovel ready and funding could be found.

He also commented on potential problems from Chimayó’s tainted ground water. People in the audience began volunteering information that people up there had put their new well next to the dam and was sucking 60% of its water from the dam they still refuse to pay for.

The 1938 Rio Grande Compact between Colorado, New Mexico and Texas limited even more the amount of water people here could use. The dam is no longer simply a source for irrigation water. It’s now part of the regional network that controls the amount and quality of water flowing to Texas.

Whatever its faults and costs, it has to be maintained.

Notes:
US Department of Interior. Bureau of Land Management. Santa Cruz Lake Recreation Facilities Rebuild, Environmental Assessment.

Veesaert, Chris J. 2002. “Addressing Hydrologic Inadequacy” in Dam Maintenance and Rehabilitation edited by J. A. Llanos, J. Yague, F. Sanz de Ormijana, M. Cabrera and J. Penas.

Photographs:
1. Santa Cruz Lake, 14 February 2012; the boat ramp is in the left center.

2. Santa Cruz dam face, 16 February 2012; the buttress addition is on the left.

Santa Cruz Dam History - Part 2

It’s a fact of life in northern New Mexico, there’s only so much water. Once it was allocated, and it was allocated very early, the only way left to increase agricultural production was to improve the efficiency of the acequias. In 1925, 25% of the water was lost through seepage.

In the 1930's, the Department of the Interior found the Santa Cruz ditch was poorly constructed and required 25 days every summer to maintain. If the Llanos ditch had been straightened, it would have added a square mile to the irrigated land, but landowners who were spending 45 days a summer on maintenance weren’t interested. The Puebla ditch was the worst, built though porous soil, weakened by a nearby arroyo, and requiring 30 to 50 days each summer to repair.

If the ditches couldn’t be improved, John Block reasoned the delivery system could. In 1925, he organized the commercial growers of the Española area into a conservancy district and proposed a dam. With approval guaranteed through his friendship with Tom Burns, who controlled the Rio Arriba county board of commissioners, he got a favorable engineering report from the state.

Based on 8,000 irrigated acres and a 166' dam that would hold 18,000 acres of water, they calculated it would cost $30 an acre to build. The initial tax was $0.69 an acre. They got enough people to join the conservancy to issue bonds for $250,000. Only Chimayó refused in mass, which reduced the number of acres to 5,200.

As commodity prices stayed low in the 1920's, economic conditions deteriorated for both Frank Bond and the people indebted to him. The money for the ditch tax could only come from the cash they got selling their produce to local merchants, and many were too in debt to have any. Bond moved to Albuquerque to find better opportunities near the railroad there. Louis Nohl remained in charge of the local store. W. P. Cook was a trusted assistant.

The investment broker, Sutherlin Barry Bonding Company in Los Angeles, kept 5% of the bond money for themselves, and managed to sell the bonds through their New Orleans office. It was the 1920's and everyone believed the successes of California’s inland valleys could be replicated.

The contractor, Ajax Construction of El Paso, began work in 1926, spent the money in 18 months, built about half the dam and declared bankruptcy. Two other companies put some time into the project, and each of them went bankrupt. By 1928, the annual tax was $2.69 an acre and there were some delinquencies. After some wet years, the summer of 1928 had been hot and dry.

To finish the dam, the conservancy had to issue another $250,000 in debt, sold mostly to the same investors. The tax rate for 1929 went up to $8.36 an acre, just as the national economy was crashing. A severe winter in 1928 had killed half the sheep; floods damaged land in the fall of 1929. Delinquencies soared.

Anderson Brothers of El Paso began work. The bond holders sent a representative who reported $6.00 an acre was the most they could expect the land owners to pay. They began losing money of their investment.

When the dam was completed in 1931, it cost $6,000 more than the contract. It was only 131' high and had one third the projected capacity, 6,000 acres. It had cost $95 an acre to build.

The 1929 and 1930 seasons had been wetter than normal; excess water had damaged irrigation systems. The winters of 1931-1932 and 1932-1933 were severe enough to kill livestock while the summers were so wet flooding was a problem. $40 an acre was later calculated to have been the maximum land owners could afford.

The Conservancy couldn’t pay its debts and went into receivership in 1933. Before the Reconstruction Finance Corporation would intervene, all back taxes had to be paid. The federal bank told the bond holders they would $.25 on the dollar for their original investment, with no interest. An extended drought had begun in 1932.

At this point, Hugh Calkins’ history of the dam gets vague. Some unidentified entity called the Santa Cruz Real Estate and Land Company appeared with Mr. Cook as its agent. When he couldn’t collect the unpaid taxes, he had landowners sign agreements that he would pay their taxes for them, in exchange for rights to their land.

When all the taxes were paid, the RFC took over and sent in its financial people who reported the financial affairs were “pretty much of a mess.” The land company owned 397 acres of land taken from 92 individuals who often “were unaware that their lands had been sold from under them.”

The land company had resold 180 acres to men from Oklahoma and Texas, but it was “doubtful if the money from those sales ever reached the bondholders.”

Once the RFC was in charge, the annual tax was set at $1.00 an acre in 1935 and $2.90 in 1936. Delinquencies dropped. 1934 had been another drought year, but those who still had their land believed enough water had flowed to water the gardens that fed them.

Still, the drought continued and the economy worsened. The government was employing men on its project to clear the Río Grande malaria swamps, but only Leadville was hiring temporary help. A few men went into CCC camps. According to the Department of the Interior, 51% of the men around Española were or had been on relief.

The fortunes of the Bond company faltered. According to Richard Cook, the government price for sheep was half what Bond paid for them. Both Bond and Cook senior were so heavily in debt, they offered their lands to a bank that didn’t want any more unsellable assets. Bond died in 1936, and the family sold the assets and liquidated his holding company. Cook had recovered enough to buy the Española store.

Normal rains returned in 1937.

Notes:
Calkins, Hugh G. The Santa Cruz Irrigation District - New Mexico, 1937; best history of the dam.

Santa Fe New Mexican. “Provider or Destroyer,” 26 April 1998; includes quotation by Richard Cook.

Scurlock, Dan. From the Rio to the Sierra: An Environmental History of the Middle Rio Grande Basin, 1998.

US Department of Interior. Tewa Basin Study, volume 2, 1935, reprinted by Marta Weigle as Hispanic Villages of Northern New Mexico, 1975; best source for social and economic conditions in the Española valley in the 1930's.

Photographs: Local ditches, 2012; the top three are different segments of the first ditch to run in the spring, the one that feeds parts of the village; the fourth shows a lateral to the left, and the diversion to the property to the right; the bottom is a ditch in a farm field with the dam at the back.

Santa Cruz Dam History - Part 1

The Santa Cruz dam was a consequence of the Denver and Rio Grande railroad opening a station in 1881 in an area west of the Río Grande it called Española. It introduced men looking for economic opportunities into an area where local Spanish-speaking settlers saw land as their only source for food.

Surpluses moved between villages at different altitudes with different growing seasons. Truchas raised wheat, Santa Cruz grew fruit, Chimayó supplied chili, Colorado provided beans and potatoes. What cash existed came when men went to the mines in Colorado and Utah or worked as sheep herders in Colorado or Wyoming or section hands in Colorado and Arizona.

One man who followed the railroad from Pueblo, Colorado, was Frank Bond, a Canadian immigrant who had failed in the wool business there. In 1883, he bought land from the railroad for a stock shipping facility. He also opened a local store where people could pay for goods by raising sheep for him. Within a few years, most were indebted to him.

Another was Johann Block who arrived from Kansas around 1890. His father, Jacob Block, was a West Prussian who had migrated there with his family. John married Sofia Vigil Valdez and became a local landowner. His cousins, Heinrich and Jacob Jantz-johnson, also moved here; Henry was a bee-keeper, Jake a dairy man.

When war broke out in Europe in 1914, England could no longer import food from Russia and Germany. Prices rose in this country, even in the Santa Cruz valley. W. P. Cook came in 1915 and started work for Frank Bond as a stable boy.

Prices fell as soon as the war was over, and stayed depressed through the 1920's. Commercial farmers like to think the war years were the new normal and the present was an anomaly. One way to address it was produce more, and over-production throughout the decade kept commodity prices low nationally.

The new men weren’t deterred by the fact the easiest land to farm was taken. They believed all you had to do to make dry land productive was add water. In 1919, the commercial farmers petitioned the courts to revisit the distribution of water.

They didn’t understand demand for that water was already increasing. 1917 and 1918 had been dry years. The local population hadn’t been able to send its young to settle the frontiers after the United States took control of the land east of the Sangre de Cristo. Chimayó was taking more of the water before it could reach the valley. The court ruled in Chimayó’s favor.

Then, a man named Conger wanted to bring more land into production by building a 14 mile ditch from the Río Grande. The years between 1920 and 1925 were drought years in the state. When the ditch was completed in 1924, farmers turning chili into a commercial crop in the Mesilla Valley in the southern part of the state successfully protested the diversion of common water.

Notes:
Calkins, Hugh G. The Santa Cruz Irrigation District - New Mexico, 1937; best history of the dam.

Scurlock, Dan. From the Rio to the Sierra: An Environmental History of the Middle Rio Grande Basin, 1998.

US Department of Interior. Tewa Basin Study, volume 2, 1935, reprinted by Marta Weigle as Hispanic Villages of Northern New Mexico, 1975; best source for social and economic conditions in the Española valley in the 1930's.

Photographs: Santa Cruz Lake, 14 February 2012; boulders have been placed around the parking area.

The Ditch - Headwaters

In the year of the American Revolution, before there were dams or modern roads to confuse one’s sense of geography, Fray Francisco Atanasio Domínguez visited the church at Santa Cruz as part of a general review of their missions by the Franciscans.

He noted the village was near a “river, which, although it arises in the aforesaid sierra from three not very large springs, is joined from very high up by three or four rivulets which feed it more water than it brings from it source, and therefore it is permanent.”

The sources are today called the Río Frijoles and Río Medio which join before the river enters Santa Cruz Lake, and the Río Quemado which joins soon after it escapes impoundment.

The Picuris-Pecos fault that Patrick Sutherland says occurred during the Laramide Orogeny when the Sangre de Cristo were being formed the last time defines their origins to the east. On its west side, the fault thrust Precambrian rocks of the Ortega Formation over existing Pennsylvanian strata to the east. Embudo granite exists to the west.

The Jicarilla Fault, which dips in the opposite direction, lies a few miles to the east. It also appeared in Laramide times and now separates the Pennsylvanian from the Precambrian quartzite of the Truchas Range.

The Frijoles arises before the Picuris-Pecos Fault and curls south and west through the widening Panchuela West.

The origins of Río Medio lie farther north and east in the watershed before the Río Grande and Pecos known as Trailrider’s Wall that runs from Truchas Peak to Pecos Baldy. From there it crosses both the Jicarilla and Picuris-Pecos faults.

Río Quemado begins east of the Picrus-Pecos fault, with the south fork coming from somewhere between Middle Truchas Peak and Truchas Peak. The north fork leaves a glacial cirque near North Truchas Peak and falls 100' at the Quemado Falls.

All the mountain rivers are accessible to hikers and fishermen who aren’t intimidated by Forest Service warnings that a trail is not only difficult but hard to locate.

For common folk, the last you see of the Frijoles is in a valley that lies some 75' below route 503. Settlers in Cundiyo have dug ditches from the curving river to water what look like flattened hay fields.

The Medio is less visible as it wanders along the edge of a privately owned meadow just north of the confluence with the Frijoles. Even fisherman can’t get through there.

Río Quemado is hidden by the settlement of Cordova and by scrub that’s grown along its banks, but, away from the road, flows there through a fairly broad valley.

This is as far north as I can follow the Santa Cruz, and it’s as far north as settlement had penetrated when Domínguez counted 125 families living in the village of Santa Cruz, 71 in Chimayó after the confluence, 52 in Quemado and 26 in Truchas just beyond.

Notes: Francisco Atansio Domínguez. Republished 1956 as The Missions of New Mexico, 1776, translated and edited by Eleanor B. Adams and Angélico Chávez.

Photographs:
1. Río Frijoles as it joins the Rio Medio, 14 February 2012.

2. Río Frijoles below 503 east of Cundiyo, 16 February 2012; the river is marked by the red willow; the differences between the near hills and the Sangre de Cristo may be marked by the differences in vegetation in back.

3. Río Medio just before its merger with the Río Frijoles along route 503, 14 February 2012.

4. Río Quemado at Cordova just off county road 83, 21 February 2012.

The Ditch - The Dam

The Santa Cruz dam sits near the edge of an uplift of Mesoproterozoic granite topped by early Pleistocene sandy gravel.

Daniel Koning’s geological map for the Cundiyo quadrangle shows the uplift lies between two north-south faults with the western one through the reservoir and the eastern roughly along route 503. Both are moving east. Between them, northeast of the lake, is another, shorter fault that curves and is moving northeast.

The sedimentary land at the top of the dam basin is 6300'. The structural and hydraulic heights of the dam are 151' but only 100' is available to hold water. The width of the dam at its base is 103.6'. That means the crack in the uplifted rock, at its narrowest, is something like 150' x 100'.

The lake covers 121 acres at the top and looks to be roughly 4000' long from the face to the point where the bowls narrows and water is white in the picture below. The opening widens to 600' in places.

From there the Santa Cruz river runs for a mile to the point it forms at route 503. It first goes south where the land above is 6400', then curves to go northeast where the surface land is 6600'. It flows through what Craig Martin describes as a “narrow, rocky canyon.”

The 10' to 15' wide river has “shallow runs and many holes 4 to 10 feet deep” for brown trout. That means, the the crack goes more than 10' below the surface and the river bottom is rock fill.

Martin say’s it’s possible to walk the river, nearly to the dam, if you’re willing to wade through the water and navigate those openings.

You don’t need to venture so far to see the rocks that form the walls of the reservoir. They’re visible on route 503 where the river begins it narrow journey. Daniel Koning says the granite and granitic pegmatite have a “distinct reddish weathered surface” and consist of potassium feldspar, quartz, muscovite, plagioclase feldspar and biotite.

Outcrops can also be seen when you follow the river back from route 520 to the dam at the northern end of canyon fault.

The Bureau of Reclamation says that the “quality designations” of the dam’s supporting rock “ranged from poor to very poor; however, with depth the fractured zones are locked in and will provide adequate foundation.”

That’s as reassuring as it gets in an area striped with faults. A collapsed dam would spread disaster all the way to the Rio Grande.

Notes: Martin, Craig. 2002. Fly Fishing in Northern New Mexico.

Photographs:
1. Santa Cruz lake and dam, 14 February 2012.

2. Santa Cruz dam from the other side, 16 February 2012.

3. Santa Cruz lake looking towards the north opening, 14 February 2012.

4. Walls of the Santa Cruz river canyon from route 503, 14 February 2012.

5. Santa Cruz river from route 503, 14 February 2012.

6. Exposed rock on route 503, 14 February 2012.

7. Exposed rock from other side of dam, near route 520, 16 February 2012.

The Ditch - Chimayó

When you pass beyond the badlands, the land opens out. You’ve passed the northeast trending boundary between lithosome B from Peñasco and lithosome A from the Santa Fe section of the Sangre de Cristo within the Tesuque formation. Ridges of sediment still exist to the north, but they’re farther back from the road, on the other side of the Rio Chiquito. They’re now Quaternary alluvium.

The road no longer follows the Santa Cruz which lies farther to the right. The 1940 WPA Guide to 1930's New Mexico says the area then was “planted with fields of corn, chili, frijoles (Mexican or pinto beans), apple and peach orchards.” Today all you can see are houses, many announcing themselves as studios or galleries.

Here and there signs warn of possible water on the road. When you look north, you often see an arroyo that’s been turned into a road.

On the other side of the road you see steeply declining roads where water runs from arroyos and route 76 itself.

Dams were built on several of these washes in 1962, to stop silt from running into the Santa Cruz and the irrigation ditches downstream. In Sabrino’s Map, Don Usner suggests they may have had the unintended consequence of encouraging settlement along the arroyos. He says early settlers in Chimayó “took care to build their homes well away from the arroyo beds” where “spectacular floods once churned,” but since the dams were built “random arrangements of mobile homes lay boldly in the path of some of the temporarily constrained washes.”

You don’t actually see the Santa Cruz again until you turn towards the Santuario in El Portrero southeast of the old Chimayó plaza. For the most part, the rocks again are smaller than they were downstream.

In front of the dam face, the river is dry or nearly so. The dam is releasing no water right now.

Between the two points, the Rio Quemado has joined the Santa Cruz and snow is continuing to melt from the recent flurries.

Photographs:
1. Rio Santa Cruz in El Portrero, west of the Santuario on route 520, 16 February 2012.

2. Arroyo to north off route 76 in Chimayó area, 16 February 2012.

3. Road leading off 76 toward Rio Santa Cruz in Chimayó area, 16 February 2012.

4. Rio Santa Cruz in El Portrero, west of the Santuario on route 520, 16 February 2012.

5. Rio Santa Cruz soon after it leaves the dam, off route 520, 16 February 2012.

6. Snow melting into Santa Cruz river from route 503, 14 February 2012.

The Ditch - Quarteles

My plans to get a better idea where the local acequia ran below the great mound by walking the nearby farm road were dashed by the realities of life in New Mexico in February. Light snow began falling in the night and heavy clouds persisted through the morning. With no sun until noon, it was too cold to walk in mid-morning when the local paved roads are safest for pedestrians.

I retreated to my car to seek the Santa Cruz dam. As you go east you drive through three zones. The first begins as you enter Quarteles where the USGS map says the elevation is 5757'. You rise 150' to the area where suburban Chimayó begins. The elevation there is 5909' and rises to 6220' where you make the turn for the Santuario. Continuing east, the road rises another 280' before the exit to Santa Cruz Lake.

The elevation increase in the first stage is emphasized by the badlands on the left which can be 50' higher than the road. At their base, there are the familiar Tertiary sediments of the Tesuque formation lithosome B that came from the Peñasco embayment. On top, according to Daniel Koning, are glacial cobbles and pebbles composed of quartzite, granite and pegmatitic quartz.

At the point where the road from La Puebla meets route 76, the badlands rise from 5800' at the road to 5950' inland.

Across the road, the Santa Cruz river level is low, fed only by recent snow in the air and melting in tributaries below the dam. Banks of those cobbles lie exposed like beached whales, white in the winter light.

About three quarters of a mile farther down the road, the Placita Road meets route 76.

The land exposed by road builders is leaching cobbles.

Across the road, the Santa Cruz is flowing through and over the rocks.

Photographs:
1. Rio Santa Cruz at La Puebla Road near route 76, 16 February 2012.

2. Badlands at junction of La Puebla Road with route 76, 16 February 2012.

3. Rio Santa Cruz at La Puebla Road near route 76, 16 February 2012.

4. Badlands at junction of Placita Road with route 76, 16 February 2012.

5. Road cut on route 76 at junction with Placita Road, 16 February 2012.

6. Rio Santa Cruz at Placita Road near route 76, 16 February 2012.

The Ditch - Crossing the Highway

I know as much as I’m going to know about the source of our local acequia until I go to Chimayó to look at the mother dam. It’s time to return to where I last saw the ditch, below the highway and great mound, and start to find out how it gets from there to the far arroyo.

I returned to the parking lot with all the “do not enter” signs and began walking towards the ditch, on the outside of barbed wire.

I couldn’t get very close to the diversion point, but it was obvious as I neared the utility pole where the outlet existed.

I looked across the road at an odd cut in the mound.

When I got across the road, I could see where the water came over. Two culverts on this side of the road, two controls on the other.

From there the concrete lined ditch began its final journey up the mound.

I still have no idea how the water does that, and it’s the wrong season to go watch. I have to wait spring when the ditches are running to see how water runs uphill.

Photographs:
1. Local acequia below 84/285, 3 February 2012.

2. Gate and fence preventing access to the land with the ditch, 17 January 2012.

3. Ditch controls below 84/285, 3 February 2012.

4. Ditch path above 84/285, 3 February 2012.

5. Water outlets above 84/285, 3 February 2012.

6. Ditch heading up the mound, 5 February 2012.

River Rock

River rock is one of those terms used everywhere in the country that everyone knows what means and no one defines. Generally, it’s rock that has a relatively smooth surface. I say relatively, because its not as smooth as a polished tombstone, but it’s not jagged.

If you ask for something more specific, people take the adjective smooth and turn it into a verb. There the trouble begins, because they start to say things like “the erosive action of the moving water from a river smooths and shapes the stones. Other times, they say something slightly romantic like “smooth surfaces created by tumbling around in rivers for years.”

Maybe, elsewhere in the country. Here, even when the Rio Grande is running high, like it was in the above picture take last October under the Griego Bridge in Española, the water only creates rapids. You don’t see rocks being tossed about. More likely you see them laying outside the action where silt can filter through them.

Smoothing and polishing are not the same thing. The second is done by removing material, often by breaking large pieces into smaller ones. In a rock tumbler, the polishing is done by some kind of abrasive grit, something like silicon carbide, with water used as a facilitating lubricant, not as the active agent . The winds here move sand at high enough velocities to blast surfaces.

The above is a piece of granite I found in the area of the far arroyo this weekend. Part of it has striations that left a relatively smooth surface. The darker corner at the top in the picture below was untouched. There the smoothed section has a lighter color because the abrasion removed the tops of the softer, darker mica, but harder flecks of quarts remained.

The smoothing of river rocks is done by filling in rough surfaces with finer sand that drops when the river currents slow. It often is the same general material loosened by wind and deposited in the water. Eventually the sand becomes welded to the surface, like a rind.

I first noticed this with a bit of granite I picked up somewhere along route 554 north of Ojo Caliente last fall. You can see the brown outer skin is very different than the quartz and mica inner stone. If you look carefully, you can see the outer layer isn’t uniform in thickness, but penetrates in low edges to fill the rough places. That’s what creates the coarse textured, smooth feeling exterior surface.

If the river rocks were polished by removal, they’d look more like tombstones or the stone above. Instead, they look like amorphous potatoes. Round, formless, grey lumps.

Someone broke the above rock outside a near neighbor’s drive. Since he works for Cook’s Transit Mix, I assume the rock came from somewhere just north of Española. You can just see the lighter colored outer layer that built up around the granite, especially on the lower curve in the upper left had corner.

Last weekend my immediate neighbor had loads of sand brought into our shared drive by a friend of his who said it came from his yard in Velarde. A broken piece of granite filled with quartz and mica landed near my gate.

Again, you can see the boundary between pock marked grey shell and the uneven texture of the broken face. It may looked like it’s been smoothed by removal, but if you look closely you can see the uneven fill that protects the bright interior with a dull overcoat. In places it has even started to colonize the surface.

The Ditch - The Dam

I could see nothing more of the Santa Cruz river along 84/285, so I drove along the Santa Cruz road searching for some place the river was visible. I found it at the Branch Bridge on Route 106.

Upstream, it’s the obvious continuation of the river seen in town. Downstream, there’s a concrete faced dam that sends water off to the left where there are four gates. Three, closed now, divert the water into the local ditch. The other, at a right angle and open now, sends the water back into the river.

The water runs hidden in a culvert under the access road to emerge a bit downstream in a natural ditch shrouded by trees.

It continues in that dirt lined ditch for some feet until it approaches another concrete dam.

This is the true beginning of the ditch. When the gate to the right is down, water backs up in that dirt ditch until it reaches the slot in the concrete. At that point water enters the ditch proper.

When the ditch is not in use, like now, the gate is raised, and the water enters a canal that takes it back to the river.

In normal times the river remains as placid here as it is in town.

When water levels are high, especially when it rains in summer, the water first backs up into a spillway behind the dirt ditch.

Water can also back up behind the dam, as it must have done last summer.

This dam is relatively new. The Santa Fe New Mexican for 15 May 1989 said it had been dedicated that week and replaced an earlier earthen dam at the same location.

Photographs:
1. Santa Cruz river at the Branch Bridge, looking upstream, 27 January 2012.

2. Diversion gates on Santa Cruz dam, 10 February 2012.

3. Entry point for water from the dam into the transit ditch, 10 February 2012.

4. Control point of entry for the local acequia, 10 February 2012.

5. Control point of entry with local acequia reach downstream, 10 February 2012; the great mound facing 84/285 is just visible in the back.

6. Return channel for water not used in the local acequia, 10 February 2012; the tree has been cut and left blocking the movement of high objects into the Santa Cruz river.

7. Santa Cruz river downstream from the return channel, 10 February 2012.

8. Spillway for the transit ditch, 10 February 2012; the light bank in the center back is the hump separating this from the actual ditch. The culvert in #3 is under it.

9. Land between the dam and the river seen in #1, 27 January 2011.