It was a beautiful morning as I headed to the Dripping Springs Natural Area. I was looking forward to heading to the Boyd Sanitarium and Van Patton’s Mountain camp, plus I was excited to get back on the trail and hike.
I will have to admit I did look at those beautiful mountains and think about how much fun they would be to climb, but since I was by myself, it was gonna be a hike.
It was an extremely well maintained trail, and I had absolutely no trouble finding my way to my destination.
The first destination on the hike was the Livery for Van Patton’s Mountain Camp.
Then I had to decide whether to go to the sanatorium or the mountain camp. Either way, it promised to be a beautiful and enjoyable hike.
I chose the sanatorium.
A Vision of Healing in the Desert
The story of Boyd’s Sanatorium begins in 1910, when Dr. Nathan Boyd envisioned a state-of-the-art medical facility where tuberculosis patients could benefit from the dry desert air, which was believed to aid in respiratory health. Tuberculosis—known as the “White Plague”—was one of the most devastating diseases of the era, and the clean, arid air of the American Southwest had gained a reputation for being beneficial to those afflicted.
Dr. Boyd was no stranger to ambition. In 1917, he acquired the property from Colonel Eugene Van Patten, a former Confederate soldier who had already established a popular resort on the land known as Van Patten’s Mountain Camp, which I would head to after I checked out the sanatorium.
The camp, dating back to the late 1870s, had drawn visitors seeking relaxation and the supposed health benefits of the region’s high desert air. Boyd saw this as an opportunity to expand upon Van Patten’s legacy—transforming a leisure retreat into a place of healing.
Boyd’s vision included a fully equipped sanatorium where patients could rest, breathe in the clean mountain air, and find solace in the quiet seclusion of the Organ Mountains. Patients from across the country sought out the facility, hoping that the dry air and peaceful setting would help ease their symptoms.
While Boyd’s medical vision was promising, financial challenges quickly emerged. The costs of maintaining and expanding the facility, combined with the logistical difficulties of running a remote mountain sanatorium, created mounting financial pressure. Despite Boyd’s determination, the sanatorium struggled to remain viable.
Over time, the lack of funds, competition from more accessible medical facilities, and the eventual medical advancements in tuberculosis treatment led to the sanatorium’s closure. The buildings were abandoned, left to the harsh desert elements. The mountain air that had once been seen as healing became a relentless force of erosion, slowly reclaiming the stone walls and wooden beams.
I reversed course and headed toward Van Patten’s Mountain Camp, stopping at the reservoir built to supply water to the camp. The stonework still stands today, but it is extremely fragile, and you can’t get any closer than this.
The Visionary Behind the Camp
Colonel Eugene Van Patten was a man of many talents and experiences. Born in New York, he ventured west as a young man and became involved with the Butterfield Stage Line, which was operated by his uncle, John Butterfield. His career path took him through a variety of roles—stagecoach driver, Confederate officer during the Civil War, and even county sheriff in Mesilla, New Mexico.
After settling in New Mexico, Van Patten recognized the potential of the Organ Mountains as a destination for relaxation and healing. He had seen how the dry desert air was believed to have health benefits, particularly for respiratory issues, and he saw an opportunity to create a mountain retreat that combined comfort, entertainment, and health.
Building the Mountain Camp
In the early 1870s, Van Patten established Van Patten’s Mountain Camp near Dripping Springs, a reliable water source in the otherwise dry desert. The camp was a significant undertaking—a cluster of stone buildings constructed from native rock, blending into the rugged landscape. The resort included approximately 16 rooms, a spacious dining hall, and even a concert hall.
The interiors were decorated with muslin-covered ceilings and patterned wallpaper, giving the rustic stone buildings a surprising touch of elegance. Van Patten landscaped the grounds carefully, creating a serene environment complete with a gazebo that doubled as a bandstand.
Despite its remote location, the resort offered guests modern comforts. The reliable water source at Dripping Springs allowed Van Patten to maintain lush vegetation and provide fresh water to his guests—an unusual luxury in the desert.
A Destination for the Elite
Van Patten’s Mountain Camp quickly gained a reputation as a premier destination. Its clientele included some of the most well-known figures of the day. Legendary lawman Pat Garrett—the man who killed Billy the Kid—was known to visit. Even the notorious Mexican revolutionary Pancho Villa is said to have spent time at the camp.
Students from the nearby New Mexico College of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts (now New Mexico State University) also made their way to the camp for relaxation and exploration. The combination of fresh mountain air, natural beauty, and Van Patten’s warm hospitality made the resort a magnet for travelers seeking both health and adventure.
Challenges and Transition
Although the camp thrived in the late 19th century, the early 20th century brought financial difficulties. Maintaining a resort in such a remote location was expensive, and the competition from more easily accessible health resorts began to grow. Van Patten struggled to keep up with the financial demands of running the camp.
In 1917, Van Patten sold the property to Dr. Nathan Boyd, who transformed the resort into a tuberculosis sanatorium. Boyd shared Van Patten’s belief in the healing power of the desert air and hoped to create a medical facility where patients could recover from respiratory diseases. While the sanatorium operated for several years, financial difficulties and medical advancements eventually rendered it obsolete.
By the mid-20th century, the site was abandoned. The harsh desert elements slowly reclaimed the stone walls and wooden beams, leaving behind the ruins that still stand today.
It was an incredibly enjoyable day of hiking and poking around ruins in the New Mexico mountains. And now that I’ve been into this area, I knew that in a couple of days, I would probably come back and do a little more hiking.
