Mi Casita carries on conservationist’s legacy
By Emery Veilleux
Standing on the front porch of the cabin in Tres Piedras, looking out across the mesa to the blue mountains in the east, it’s clear some things have changed since pioneering conservationist Aldo Leopold lived there during his time as forest supervisor.
Electricity lines hum quietly, strung high over a pair of propane tanks. Cars whirr down U.S. 285 through a sagebrush landscape dotted with buildings.
But still, some things remain unchanged: The ponderosas bend in an oncoming storm. Grazing permits are sometimes still as contentious as when Leopold himself first implemented them.
This spring, the Carson National Forest opened the Aldo Leopold House in Tres Piedras for public rentals, marking the first such cabin rental on National Forest land in New Mexico. Previously reserved for writers-in-residence through the Leopold Writing Program, the house now welcomes up to eight overnight guests.
Leopold, a pioneering conservationist and author of “A Sand County Almanac,” is considered the father of American wilderness. During his tenure as a forest supervisor, he lived briefly in Tres Piedras, where he began formulating his influential land ethic philosophy. His efforts helped establish the Gila Wilderness, the nation’s first designated wilderness, which celebrated its centennial in 2024.
Built in 1912 by Leopold and fellow ranger Walter Perry, the two-story craftsman bungalow was funded by the Forest Service and served as Leopold’s residence with his wife, Estella. Named “Mi Casita,” the house features dark walnut-stained beams, a basalt rock fireplace, and a historic farmhouse kitchen. The surrounding property includes a root cellar, barn, old ranger station, and corral.
Though Leopold lived in the cabin for only nine months, his time there was significant.
He arrived in 1912 from Arizona’s Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest, where he had a pivotal encounter with a dying wolf he shot that reshaped his views on predators’ roles in ecosystems. These experiences influenced his foundational “land ethic,” a principle that emphasized seeing nature as a community rather than a resource for human exploitation.
These ideas that would become Leopold’s legacy began percolating in Northern New Mexico.
“When he landed on the Carson, those things really started to hatch,” said Angie Krall, district ranger for Carson National Forest West Zone.
Leopold’s legacy is complex. While he championed conservation, he also implemented policies that restricted land access — to the detriment of Hispano and Indigenous communities.
“For local populations, he wasn’t necessarily a hero,” Krall said. “He represented a major shift in land management in New Mexico.”
Leopold left Mi Casita in 1913 after falling ill while resolving a grazing dispute. He later worked in Albuquerque, founding the Office of Grazing and the Albuquerque Wildlife Federation. His career eventually took him to Wisconsin, where he wrote extensively and helped establish the American wilderness system. Today, over 111 million acres of federal land, including 1.9 million in New Mexico, are protected as wilderness.
Mi Casita has undergone multiple restorations. A 2005 plan aimed to preserve its historic integrity while introducing modern amenities. Recent renovations, funded by the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, included a new cedar-shingle roof, septic system upgrades, and chimney repairs. The cabin now features electricity, heating, and a fully equipped kitchen and bathroom, making it one of the most comfortable rentals on Rec.gov.
The house also serves as an educational space. An extensive library features works by Leopold and other conservationists. Guests are encouraged to engage with the landscape and reflect on their own land ethic.
Rentals, available spring through fall, cost $175 per night, with proceeds funding site maintenance and educational projects. Two months each year will remain reserved for the Leopold Writing Program’s residents. Future plans include interpretive trails and accessibility improvements.
As storms continue settle and pass over the Sangre de Cristos, visible across the mesa, the house remains a testament to Leopold’s legacy.
“He just loved the view from the porch,” said Annette Rubin, longtime site steward.
