by Elizabeth Miller on
A DEER STROLLS BY as we finish dinner on a metal picnic table outside a log-sided cabin at Coyote Creek State Park, in Guadalupita. The deer’s massive ears swivel toward us even as it keeps browsing the new grass along the campground road. My friend and I watch as we clear the last of the curry and noodles from our plates and break down the camp stove. Then it ambles on, black-tipped tail twitching, as we head indoors to escape the evening chill.
Inside our cabin for the night, gray tile floors and blond wood walls make for a bright, crisp feel. We fire up the wood stove, and soon we’re peeling off jackets. Opened in April, the 250-square-foot Coyote Creek cabins are the first at any New Mexico state park. Meant to entice a new audience beyond tent campers or RV drivers, they offer a gateway for people getting comfortable in the outdoors. (Five cabins are expected to open at Sugarite Canyon State Park, near Ratón, in spring 2027.)
The cabin door swings open to the breeze running through ponderosa pines and Gambel oaks. After dark, the sky sparkles with stars, and the quiet feels immense. But the experience is eased by the warm interior and, in summer months, showers within walking distance. Water comes from a spigot outdoors and cooking happens on an outdoor table or a fire ring (as restrictions allow). “Roughing it a little bit is important,” says Donovan Velasquez, superintendent of Coyote Creek and Morphy Lake state parks.
Long before Coyote Creek was a state park, the land housed a steam timber mill and a ranch house. Each of the five cabins invokes that history, since they’re named for a tree in Spanish: Pinabete for ponderosa pine, Encino for oak, Sabina for juniper or cedar, and Alamo for aspen. They’re all located off Aserradero Loop, Spanish for sawmill.
The cabins are part of Coyote Creek’s ongoing improvements and expansion, which include upgrading electricity and water hookups at some of its 41 campsites. In 2023, the state purchased 139 acres adjoining the park to bring its total to near 600. That parcel, which runs up the valley’s facing slope, will eventually be laced with trails.
When we set off to explore the park, we meander over a bridge on the namesake stream, past the group picnic shelter, and up the hillside on the .7-mile Eusebio Romero Trail (named for the land’s former owner). The route rolls through pines, firs, and oaks, paralleling the creek. From an overlook, we peer down on the glistening water, its rush still audible. Just beyond a spring that pours into a hollowed log like an old horse trough, we find another path that skirts an old apple orchard where bears have been known to forage.
Most people come for the fishing, chasing rainbow trout in the creek. Along with the new campsites and cabins, plans include adding fishing piers. The cabins will also stay open year-round, hoping to lure skiers from Angel Fire, about 15 miles north. “It’s about the experience,” Velasquez says.