I will miss the manzanitas and the oaks. The fog and the golden light. The spicy Szechuan Chinese noodles of San Francisco and the Tijuana tacos of San Diego.
Raf and I are leaving California!
Where to?
Read on!
Let’s rewind five years to February, 2020, when I was living in Fraser, CO and skiing most days of the week at Winter Park. I remember wondering whether the Coronavirus would pass (figuratively) over Corona Pass from the Front Range. I’m sure the virus eventually did, but the lockdown came first. The lifts were shut down by the end of the month, and my roommates who had become friends over the past few months all left to go weather the pandemic elsewhere. After a couple weeks of uphill access at Winter Park (“skinning” upslope), Governor Polis closed the national forest land to public access. This was frustrating – social distancing felt like a half-baked strategy that only made sense for urban settings, yet was being applied ad-hoc to rural areas with no need for such a policy. Anyway, I lingered on for a few months riding my bike, skiing low-angle backcountry routes, working on my thesis, and applying for jobs. But by May, I was ready for the next step.
With no leads on Colorado jobs, I defended my thesis, moved out of the house in Fraser and headed back to Minnesota for the first pandemic summer, which I spent towing food by bicycle with Twin Cities Food Justice and applying for jobs. Although my new position with the USGS in San Diego didn’t officially require me to report to the office, by September I was ready to live on my own again, so I shoved off back into the great unknown, made my way there, and met Raf a few weeks later. Even before I got the USGS job, I had envisioned a California chapter, a phase of trail running and mountain biking on trails that are snow-free year round. I wanted to see what surfing was all about, get to know the Pacific ocean up close, explore coastal climates that are favorable for year round farming and gardening, and experience the world of West Coast America.
I loved living next to the ocean in Ocean Beach, rollerblading and surfing in Pacific Beach, and exploring the shrub mountains of eastern San Diego county on foot and by bike. I also developed a taste for the Tijuana-style Mexican food of San Diego, especially the cheap tacos and delicious salsa bar of Mi Rancho Market in Escondido, and Humbertos burritos in Golden Hill. I came to enjoy the ease of a snow-free winter.
But I also missed living next to tall mountains and vast mountain wilderness areas. I began making a summer pilgrimage to these spirits of stone, savoring every moment in the high country and trying to etch the details of rock faces into memory. I walked the John Muir Trail one year, stitched together three backpacking trips on the Olympic Peninsula the next, returned to the Eastern Sierra many times after, and then backpacked for an extended period in the San Juans last summer.
Soon after we moved to San Gregorio in fall 2023, I realized that we had landed in a paradise of sorts. We lived in a beautiful and affordable home among the oaks, across the highway from an open space preserve with a large network of dirt roads and foot paths leading up and down and around the steep hillsides. We were situated at the transition zone between two great landscapes: redwood forests and mountains to the east, coastal hills and sage scrub to the west. We were just a few miles away from wild beaches where the high cliffs block out everything but the sky and sea, and an expansive network of mountain bike trails along the crest of the Santa Cruz Mountain ridgeline. An hour north was SFO and the Sunset District, where Raf and I spent many weekend days on the hunt for delicious food.
At the time, I wrote “I am at the center of the Earth. Everything has fallen neatly into place. There is no place I’d rather be.” I knew that our life in San Gregorio was the peak of my coastal California chapter, and there was no way any other situation could top it. With Silicon Valley just over the hill, there was also no way we could ever afford to stay in coastal San Mateo County without the staff housing provided by Raf’s job. Like a handful of other life phases – e.g., living in a hut on a mountainside in Patagonia, living in a tent on Meesa’s land in Left Hand Canyon – life in San Gregorio felt uniquely stimulating and satisfying, constantly renewing and refreshing and offering new perspectives. During all those phases, I loved my simple home environment, I had access to a nearby trail network leading up to the mist or snow above, and the rent was cheap.
But even during this ideal time on the coast, the call of the high country never quite faded. Despite having constant access to rainy hilltop meadows, I still missed being close to tall mountains for skiing in the winter and backpacking / trail running / mountain biking in the summer. While the nearby trails were excellent for weekday jollies, they weren’t quite enough for an extended weekend adventure. Despite opportunities to practice farming skills in an ideal climate for growing food and keeping livestock, I realized that mountain recreation was still a priority. While I thrive in the lushness of rainy northern California winter, a snowy winter offers several advantages for recreation. I love running in the rain for a couple hours and then drying off inside, but not quite as much as spending a day skiing in the snow.
When Raf decided she was ready to move on from the job that had provided us staff housing in San Gregorio, we temporarily moved south to Ben Lomond in the San Lorenzo Valley. In exchange for taking care of two dogs and a cat and paying a little rent, we live in a nice 1980’s home on a 0.4-acre lot with good views in a suburban area of the Santa Cruz mountains, about 25 minutes from downtown Santa Cruz. Our home in Ben Lomond has been quiet, affordable, and comfortable, and allowed me the opportunity to tend backyard chickens. We love the pets, and there are a handful of good open spaces nearby for short weekday runs (Quail Hollow Ranch and Olympia Watershed) as well as a network of mountain bike trails behind the U.C. campus and at Wilder Ranch State Park.
But after the perfect situation in San Gregorio, the move to Ben Lomond was inevitably a bit of a downgrade – I was spoiled. Santa Cruz County doesn’t have as many open space preserves as San Mateo County. Instead of 5 minutes, the ocean was now 35 minutes away and separated from the San Lorenzo Valley by a high ridge that keeps out the coastal air. Unlike the San Mateo coast that is vegetated by the meadow, shrub, and oak landscapes that I love so much, the San Lorenzo Valley is mostly dense and enclosed redwood forest.
Life here is comfortable and affordable, and there are decent trails nearby for short weekday runs or mountain bike rides. Recognizing that San Gregorio set the bar unrealistically high, I have reset my expectations, counted my blessings, and enjoyed life while considering and casually preparing for the next move.
After five years living away from the high country, I know that I am ready to be back, both for skiing in the winter and high alpine walks in the summer. While I am very grateful for this current phase alongside all the others in California, I miss being 30-90 minutes from all sorts of mountain wilderness and ski areas, particularly during the late summer (July – October) and winter (January – March).
At first, I gamed out possibilities that involved staying in California. The Sierra Nevada offers incredible summer routes, but the 4-5 hour drive is a major barrier – I generally get much more out of frequent day trips or single overnights than occasional extended trips. Similarly, the slushy snow, crowds, and long drive make the Tahoe area an undesirable ski destination. The southern Sierra has better snow, but Mammoth is pretty remote (especially in the winter when Tioga Pass is closed) and unaffordable.
Next, I gamed out possibilities that involved splitting the year between Colorado and California:
- Mountain Cabin in Colorado: January – March, July – October
- Coastal Farm in California: April – June, November – December
This still may be a possibility in the long run, but it wouldn’t work well with Raf’s potential teaching job. The Pacific Northwest could offer some elements of this combination, except that the snow is pretty wet / bad for skiing compared to the Colorado cold smoke. And I also don’t want to go too far north – I love the strong winter sun at latitudes of 35–40 degrees. The Southwest is the place to be. Back to Colorado it is!
Raf and I have been discussing our priorities and preferences for where we want to live for a while now, and I decided to evaluate 14 different Colorado towns against these priorities in a structured way using a spreadsheet. I ranked each town on factors like affordability, crowdedness, access to public transit, social / cultural /community opportunities, and proximity to skiing, rafting, grocery stores, airports, hot springs, and a variety of day trips. I then came up with a set of weights that reflect the importance of each factor, leading to a weighted score for each town.
Unexpectedly, Salida, CO rose to the surface! It is near Monarch Mountain (independently owned and operated ski resort), the Sawatch Range and the Collegiate Peaks, several hot springs, and lots of rafting opportunities on the Upper Arkansas River. It is affordable, has a couple decent grocery stores, offers plenty of music, art, food, and events, and is accessible via public transit. It is relatively far from airports (3 hours from DIA, 1 hour from regional airport in Gunnison), but this helps keep the crowds away. I spent a week in Salida back in the summer of 2016, and really enjoyed walking around the neighborhoods, historic downtown, and river area.
Once we started digging more into Salida, we realized we were both excited about moving there, and decided to make it happen! At first, we thought about waiting a few months, taking it slow etc. but after a little research, I figured it would be much easier to get a place in February or March than in April or May when the rafting season was kicking off. So I reached out to a couple of places on Craigslist and we immediately hit it off with Jean and Lane, who eventually decided to rent us their 2-bedroom house in town, starting February 15! It’s all happening fast, but not so fast, given how long we have discussed all the underlying factors. We leaned into what became the easiest housing search process of all time. We did sign a 12-month lease sight unseen, which is pretty crazy. But after seeing the place via photos and video, meeting Jean and Lane via Facetime, and doing some background research to make sure we weren’t getting scammed, we decided to take the leap!
We are looking forward to skiing, rafting, soaking in hot springs, and enjoying summer trails in the high country and year round trails in the foothills. And we are super excited to live in a small town within walking distance of events, restaurants, and bars. Raf doesn’t have a job yet, but she has a ton of skills and is open to classroom teaching, outdoor education, raft guiding, or barista work. I’m very excited to be back in Colorado – to climb all the 14-ers I didn’t get to last round, get back into skiing, and continue to explore the desert mesa country of the Four Corners area. I’m looking forward to getting an uphill pass at Monarch for the remainder of the spring ski season (February – April), maybe dabbling in some rafting during the spring runoff (May and June), and then using as much of my PTO as possible for high elevation day trips from July to October. I’m thrilled that Raf is excited about the move too.
While we are both super excited, this move will inevitably be bittersweet for several reasons. First, our current arrangement hasn’t yet come to its logical end. It’s easy to move on from a chapter when life shoos you out the door, but leaving a comfortable and affordable home requires much more motivation, especially in the midst of a housing crisis with no end in sight. Similarly, it is hard to leave coastal California’s overwhelmingly pleasant Mediterranean climate, which is so intensely mild, it’s almost as if the air has taken on the most subtle temperature and humidity in an attempt to go unnoticed. We’re both excited for a snowy winter, but this has downsides like limited mobility during April and May, when giant spring snowstorms shut down Front Range airports and travel. Raf has never lived in a snowy winter, but her enthusiasm for exploring the Twin Cities via public transit in below-zero temperatures makes me optimistic that she will love it!
Similarly, the transition in food systems, from a state that is directly connected to international markets via several deepwater ports and contains some of the most productive agricultural land in the world, to a state that ships in most food from elsewhere, will be a little painful. Over the past few years, I’ve enjoyed affordable and high quality food access: I order all of our bulk organic grains, legumes, spices, and fruit from an Oregon-based bulk supplier (Azure Standard) and buy grass fed beef, free range eggs, and organic produce, butter, coffee, peanut butter etc. at rock bottom prices from a discount grocery store (Grocery Outlet) that seems to be immune to inflation. Sadly, there are no Grocery Outlets in Colorado and Azure charges an 8% fee for delivering to non-West Coast states. Gotta leave the comfort zone sometimes! Maybe this is an opportunity to join or create a southwest Colorado food co-op.
It’s also a bummer to be paying market-rate rents, after so many years of hacking housing through jobs, caretaking arrangements, co-ops, or the rare landlord charging 2000s rents well into the 2020s. But on average, Salida and surrounding areas are much more affordable than the Bay Area, both to rent and buy. I’m looking forward to scoping out a potential ski cabin, small town mountain co-op, or country homestead as a long-term home base.
It’s not forever and I’m sure the pull of the soggy coastline might draw us back to the West Coast someday. For now, to the high country.
