There...and here.

There

Here

Moving to another state is a huge change, even if that state is right next to the one you were living in. I think each of our 50 states has a distinct culture and personality. You would definitely feel a different vibe living in, say, Nevada versus Utah (as an example) even though they are close, geographically. And Oregon is very different from California in a lot of ways. Big Ag remarked the other day that he felt like he'd moved to another country sometimes, and he's not too far off in that assessment. 

So right now, after we've been here all of three weeks, it still feels like we're on kind of a strange, long vacation, albeit one with all our material possessions coming along with us on the ride. While things are vaguely familiar (plenty of wineries, the beach nearby, etc.) not one of them is truly familiar to us -- yet. And with being in a rental place, there's a tendency to not settle in anyway, because we know we'll be moving again in a few months (God willing) to a permanent home, once we find it. 

But this is a great time to look back and examine why we left. You can't really embrace the present until you reconcile the past. I've met a lot of former Californians in the last three weeks -- you actually would not believe how many Oregonians come from my old home state -- and hearing them talk about the "old country" made me see we are not alone in our reasons for fleeing our former home.

First and foremost, we left because all the "livable" parts of the state (relatively temperate, lower crime, etc) had become too expensive for us, especially as we contemplate retirement. Sure, you can cut back on your expenses, but when you live in a "lifestyle destination" like the one Paso Robles became, you're then going to feel the pinch no matter how much you cut back. To drive this home, I got a hair cut last week. The same $60 cut-and-blow dry I used to get in Paso Robles, California set me back all of $39 here in Corvallis, Oregon. A $2,000 air conditioning system overhaul cost $900 here. And just for fun, we attended the "Cinco De Micro" microbrewery festival in Salem, the first weekend we arrived here. A VIP ticket cost us $25 each. In Paso, attending a similar event (The Firestone Walker "beerfest") would have set us back $200 for a VIP ticket, and $85 for a regular, no perks ticket. So whether you're grabbing breakfast, getting a quote on fixing something on your house, or attending a special event, if you decide to live in Paso Robles, you'd better be prepared to bring a fat wallet.

We also left because all those expenses mean only those with a certain level of income are moving into the area, and they are mostly Bay Area and Los Angeles refugees who bring their cities with them -- rude and aggressive driving being first and foremost on that list. As a former LA driver, I know it when I see it, believe me. When scenic Hwy 101 (built at a time when cars went an average of 50 miles per hour) becomes populated by crazy drivers who take it at 75 - 85 mph, weaving in and out of lanes and cutting people off, it's time to go. With age comes slower reflexes, and so it makes sense that defensive driving becomes more difficult with age. And don't even get me started on the fact that many of those "mad" drivers are my age or older, on who knows how many medications (or wine). Slower reflexes/crazy driving is not a good equation, in any case.

And there's also the ugly specter of climate change on the horizon. With longer droughts becoming more the norm, that brings challenges to the water table, along with increased fire risk. How much risk? How much challenge?  I have no idea. But we lived in an area surrounded by dry brush and dying oak trees, where the wineries are using more and more water every year. So we erred on the conservative side and decided to move our biggest nest egg -- our nest! -- someplace greener and with abundant water. Since geologic changes tend to take place over many lifetimes, the area may be fine for the foreseeable future. But we didn't wait around to gamble on that. 

So now there's nothing left to do but look back with some affection, some regrets, and move on into the future. Life is a lot like playing "21," with the trick being to add one more card, getting as close to perfection as you can, without going over the magic number. While I can't tell you for sure yet, right now it seems like we've managed to get really close to perfect here. A full year will tell us more, but we're hopeful we can finally "hold" and be happy with our hand. Having abundant water and greenery and economic health helps a whole lot, I can tell you that already.

Another California transplant -- this Giant Sequoia seems happy here at the Peavy Arboretum in Corvallis.