I'm Not Wrecking Your Town
Overheard in the New West
By Emily Esterson, 7-21-07
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| Caption: Still pretty sleepy. | |
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Scot and I had come down out of the San Juan Wilderness after backpacking for three days in thunderstorms, camping streamside, eating hastily cooked macaroni and cheese in the vestibule of our Walrus backpacking tent. It had been a nice trip. But he had column due for the Albuquerque Tribune that he’d forgotten to write before we left, so we packed out of the woods early Sunday morning. Our socks were wet. Our boots soaked from stream crossings. We’d lost one of our river shoes and run out of food. We were craving a hot meal. A dip in the Pagosa Hot Springs, an Internet cafe, a hot meal and a laundromat were in order. He was meeting friends for another four days of packing. The good wife that I am, I decided I’d dry his socks and pants.
We dumped our packs on the sidewalk on a side street in downtown Pagosa, and we piled his wet smelly clothes back up in the trunk of the car. We headed four miles out of town, where there was an Internet cafe. I left him at Higher Grounds, a Starbucks knockoff (complete with CDs of arguably hip music for sale at the register) in the “new” part of Pagosa Springs, acres upon acres of condo-loft homes sat adjacent to a golf course. Everything about this neighborhood gave us the willies—from its ski-lodge look to its sanitary cafe to the City Market, which was so upscale it reminded me of more of Whole Foods than a run of the mill Krogers.
I found a laundromat in one of those faux-log strip malls that were popular in Colorado in the early ‘80s (quite a ways out of town. The people who shop at that City Market undoubtedly own washer-dryers, probably the fancy new LG kind). It was a quiet day. There was one other customer, an overweight, sweating man in his fifties, who, I imagined, lived in a trailer on the outskirts of town and had junked cars in his yard. Judgemental. I know. But I was bored. I re-read the same issue of Newsweek I’d read in the dentist’s office a week ago. The only other magazines on the little table next to the mustard yellow plastic chairs were back issues of “TPE” (Today’s Pentacostal Evangel). So I started eavesdropping. The man was un-muscled, but wearing a muscle t-shirt. He had thick glasses. The woman, probably 60, was wearing a floral housecoat and minding the store with an scolding manner. Every time I wheeled my little basket next to my washer, she came and wheeled it back next to its basket brethren in a neat line up next to the dryers. I gathered I was not to move my basket from its parking space until I was ready for the washer-dryer transfer.
She knew the man, and a conversation ensued. They were talking loudly, considering only one washer was going at the time. The topic at first was whether or not Pagosa Springs had enough population to support a Wal-Mart.
“But those rich people don’t want it,” the woman said. “Those people move here, and they think all of a sudden they’re natives, like they have the right to control our communities, tell us how to live. I bet with Dulce and Chama [two nearby New Mexico communities] we’d have enough people to get Wal-Mart to come. Those people, they live here, what, two years, no, a summer. Heck, I thought native meant you were born and raised here.”
Man: “I’ve lived here 15 years. I’m not a native. At least I know that. That Fourth of July parade, that was an example, the town was so crowded, you could hardly see. They come here from California and they make everything expensive, so the real people can’t live here.”
Woman: “People don’t even know what Pagosa means.”
Which was funny, because not 15 minutes earlier Scot and I had wondered that exact thing.
In the 40 minutes that I’m in the laundromat, it has become obvious to me that this conversation, which goes on and on, and maybe I’ve had too much coffee, but I’m finding hard to tune out and really irritating, is taking place for my benefit. And, that it’s not the first time the keeper of the laundromat has railed against the outsiders when they were in her midst. In fact, it was so cliche it sounded scripted.
In Southern Colorado, where the increase in population/income is directly proportional to the number of free “homes and land” magazines distributed in front of the convenience store, the natives, or the faux natives, or non-natives who feel they lived there long enough to have a say, are getting testy. There are still only 11,000 people living here full time, and unemployment is below the national average (4.50 percent vs. 4.60 percent).Yes, the cost of living is higher, largely due to the skyrocketing cost of homes and land. But it’s still not as high as Durango to the west or Colorado Springs to the north.
Surely, I am my laundry friends’ worst nightmare, with my pink Crocs (which for the record are Payless knockoffs), my well-soiled nearly-new Honda Accord, my hippie bandanna covering my long, salt and pepper hair, my minuscule load of wash—not the load of a working mom with six kids living in above-noted trailer park. Surely the volume of their discussion was meant to alert me that I was not welcome in their Pagosa, even though I’d just dumped an obscene number of quarters into the woman’s washing machine. Now granted, my load of wash did not make her Sunday, financially-speaking. I didn’t have six loads going. I didn’t buy a candy bar from the vending machine. I didn’t get saved reading the Pentacostal magazine. But I wondered how these two would fare if those million dollar homes in the valley hadn’t ever shown up. Would they be complaining instead about how, say, Bayfield or Cortez or Montrose had gotten all the money, and they were left out in the cold?
Ironically, earlier in the day I had shared one of the mineral pools with a nice young man and his six year old daughter. The man was from a local ranching family, born and raised in the Pagosa Valley, in the shadow of the San Juans. He talked about how the valley had changed and how much better it was for a young family like his. “There’s more to do. More jobs, more money,” he told me. “More people, too, and the tourists are annoying, but that’s okay.” He, like ourselves, had opted for the shabbier, simpler mineral pools, away from the glitz and glam pools built for the tourists, across the street.
There was a time when Pagosa Springs, and similar towns all over the Rockies, were undiscovered, quiet communities. There was a time, too, between the demise of mining and logging and the advent of tourism and the arrival of outsiders, that those towns really suffered economically. Down the road a piece, say Alamosa or Bayfield, it’s possible to see places still not recovered, with residents eeking out a living.
Yes, for those of us who remember when there was no “Adult Golf Community” on the edge of town—any town—it’s lamentable to see how we’ve ruined our landscapes. Even in shabby Albuquerque, we cringe when Forbes or Fortune or the New York Times writes a glowing piece about the quality of life here. “Oh, no! The Californians are coming!”
I live in one of those neighborhoods, too, Laundry Lady. Our old Hispanic farming community (where I am decidedly NOT a native), now has two, count-em, two gay couples, one of whom flattened the original house and is in the process of building what could honestly be called a McMansion. Two others like it are in process down the street, in what used to be 12 acres of alfalfa.
But, you know what, I’m not worried about it. Because we’re all from somewhere else. Our society has always been on the move—from east to west, west to east, north to south. As a whole, we migrate, we move, we change.
When I leave here (for Pagosa, or someplace like it, financial gods willing), someone will pay way more than I did for my house. I’m counting on that, and I’m not ashamed of it. It’s not the reason I live here, in this hot, dry valley. But I don’t deny that it’s the natural course of the economic universe today. I wish I could be more socialist about it. I really do. But I’m a realist.
So, Laundromat Lady, the times are changin’. You never know. You might just get rich off those Californians. But I do know one thing: Next time I need to dry socks in Pagosa, I’m heading elsewhere.
[End of article]
Humm.. he he
Comment By Pete B, 7-22-07This has been going on longer than anyone admits. In the past it was more often about extractive industry boom and bust. Thise times had more quick buck opportunities for locals. Now we have more class conflict. The follow-on economic benefit doesn't have one big paycheck for local workers.
Locals have power to at least put on some pressure to affect how things change, and they also have some opportunity to profit from the the changes.
My wife was on the planing commission when it first started here over 10 years ago. They talked about trying to balance the rural character with some opportunities for some of the old timers. One community member piped up, "Why should we even do anything. The place is ruined already." It's that attitude, and just sadness at the fact that such planning has become necessary at all that causes many to give up.
If you really want the low property cost and real rural character unsullied by second homes and golf courses then you need to be in a place that is either butt ugly, or completely inhospitable, preferably both...
Emily writes an interesting article, and incredibly timely for me. I just took a job with the County as their new development services director. In my first week on the job, I was instructed to let two of my staff go, and another has left since because of the financial uncertainty facing the County. Although the County may look prosperous, it has failed to meet the challenges of the urbanization that has taken place, refused to make tough decisions to find the tools to enhance revenue sources to meet the growing demands for services that people used to such services want. Although the town has grown, it has not grown like the County. The two have not partnered to make sure the very qualities that brought people to Archuleta County will be there for the next generation - growth has generally been allowed to go its merry way, and the lack of good planning shows as Emily points out.
Since I have been here less than 90 days, it is hard to make enough findings to reach real conclusions so I still speak in generalities, but one thing jumped off the page for me in Emily's article - the community does not seem to have a sense of itself. The community plan speaks in terms of perserving community culture and its rural heritage, but those terms are not defined, prioritized or seemingly given a local context.
The downturn in the local economy may work to the advantage of the community. It will allow a cooling off of growth and allow a good community plan, a good land use plan, and public/private partnerships to be implemented to provide workforce housing, good open space and trails planning, a good growth management plan (IGA) to be completed between the Town and County, and so much more.
Emily, remember the snapshot you just took of the community, and come back in about five years to see what has been done to address those concerns you and your laundry coharts have raised. Thanks for putting the word out - it may help cool off growth even more for awhile.
For a long time, I think, planning was a dirty word in some towns (certainly in Albuquerque). But now smaller, desireable communities can't live without it. Look at places like Santa Fe and Taos, which have gotten so crowded that their infrastructures are falling to pieces. I think planning is a good thing, and I also agree that a little real estate slump might give towns like Pagosa a chance to breathe.
What amazed me was how few people we saw hiking. If we'd been closer to Denver, you'd have seen so many people on those trails. But we only passed one party, three folks on horseback. That's it. Over three days in that beautiful wilderness. And that made us happy. Maybe Pagosa is just far enough away from Denver and Albuquerque to keep itself quiet...
Who knows.
Emily:
If High Country News has shown anything, it is that the old saying "Those who fail to plan, plan to fail." It is not that any given community in the west has failed to plan, it is that they have all failed in one way or another to plan appropriately. It's not that it was a dirty word, but it was a word that struck fear of limitations on many who dreamed of hitting it big with that little parcel of land their grandad went broke holding on to when the economy was resource based.
Boulder planned for itself and forced growth to adjoining communities, Aspen planned for itself and forced growth down valley. Vail grew for growth's sake, which always reminded me of Yogi's quote "Its so crowded there no one goes there anymore."
I have been involved in one way or another with land use issues since the early 70's. Before that, I was privileged to learn at the knee of one of the great conservation educationalist of all time - Roger A. Sanborn at Big Spring Ranch for Boys. My folks rewarded us with time at camp for working on the farm through harvest and plowing. Since I had hayfever, I knew I was never going to be a farmer and the air in the mountains was just what I needed.
USDA Research Service did a nice study on western communities with high amentities and it showed in large part what prompts people to move to a given community. The flip side of that is that one third of counties in the midwest and west are losing population and have since about 1970 or just thereafter. The front range from Cheyenne down to Albuquerque represents a magnate for many of those leaving those plains and valley communities.
Consider yourself lucky you saw so few people. We did restrict fires in the high country and so did the fire service and that may have had some influence on people not being on the trails while you were here.
I have already sent your article to a number of people hoping it will prompt some discussion within the community about the impression they are giving visitors.
Excellent story here. And one that will always be timely, as people migrate to new places, not running from, I hope, but running to a new life and experience. That the optimistic way to look at it, and sometimes, I can see it that way. Certainly the ode to realism is very helpful.
I have to admit that I understand the rage of the lady in the laundromat, without thinking it's justifiable. There are angry asses everywhere. But there's reason for anger, too, as communities are flooded with the well-to-do, the equity refugees, the retired, the mcmansion builders. Let's face it, there are many places that are ruined by growth, places that once were loved by residents who grew up there or raised children there. Reality, it seems, often sucks.
Here is a link, if any reader is interested to a story I wrote a long time ago, across the country in north carolina, as a wonderful and unique community faced obliteration from these forces. Writing it changed my view forever-it made it somewhat darker, I'm afraid.
It was about the american individual's hatred of planning and being told what to do, I guess, and the vacuum that results from that. It was also about a view of the world that holds absolutely nothing sacred. if the laundrymat lady wanted a reason for her anger, it would be easy to find.
Thanks for this story, Emily.
http://charlotte.creativeloafing.com/gyrobase/Content?oid=oid:2877
I finally thought iof what I meant to say!
You weren't wrecking Pagosa by being there at the laundromat, but so many times, when you see that certain type of person in your town, the end is indeed near. I remember stopping for a beer in Big Timber, long ago, and up pulls a gaint SUV, piloted by a 30ish man, very well groomed and tanned, expensive sunglasses, polo shirt, who sauntered down the street to the real estate office with a roll of blueprints in his hand....you might as well start playing the bagpipes for that place, as it existed then, as a culturally unique place, at least. To me- I've seen that guy all over the US in quiet, beautiful places- have sat at the next table and heard him say to a newly relocated client, "Let's face it, you are a local!" with much fake laughter-- that guy is like the circus people in the movie something wicked this way comes.
You know what would be extremely interesting here? If people made a list of places that used to be small and fascinating, that have now been developed into blandness and crowd.
Hal
For your information, Pagosa means "Healing Waters" in the Ute language. The Pine River valley where Bayfield is located was, outside the native Utes, "discovered" by a former Buffalo Soldier, who was not "native" to this land. I remember living In Albuquerque when Juan Tabo was a dirt road and there wasn't much but dust and sagebrbrush west of I-25 and the first balloon festival had 60 balloons. That sleepy village is no longer.
I must say that the 11,000 population we have here dwindles by 40% in the winter when the snowbirds go to warmer climes. I live here year round, work for a living, and enjoy the small amenities like Higher Grounds. I also hike places where sometimes I don't see a single soul and feel like I am truly a part of the mountains.
As for the "skyrocketing cost of homes and land", that is actually on the downswing. We are currrently experiencing an overabundance of homes and land and lowering of prices. We have a community group organized that is working on affordable homes for those who are an integral part of this community. We have hired a new county planner who is part of a county wide effort to control the growth we are expecting. Yes, it is a sleepy town in winter but we expect more additions in terms of development. What are we expected to do? Line the road into town with deputies to keep out people who want the same thing all of us do? As you say, it is the natural way of the economic universe. However, we have made it difficult for one developer (Red McCombs) who doesn't give a flip about our county or it's people. The Village at Wolf Creek has been stimied over and over again to build a new "Aspen". Single homes and condos for over 2500 people at an altitude of 10,400 feet at the base. This versus other developers who are concerned with green open space and a love for the land or one developer who is striving to make an area of the county affordable. We also are building a new critical care hospital. We have had nothing like it until more people decided to live here. I doubt that hospital would have been built without the addition of more Californians, Texans, and, yes, New Mexicans, who came here to live.
Also, just so you know, most of the "condos" you saw are time shares built decades ago. Until about 2002, the last condos and townhomes built were in 1985. Yes, we are building more townhomes, but if you really looked into the "new" Pagosa (development that began in 1972), you would have seen many, many more homes than townhomes that are existing or being planned.
So, yes, we are growing, but those of us who live here are trying to grow sensibly. And since the nearest coffee shop before Higher Grounds came in was in Durango, I like our "knockoff Starbucks". We also have a new one on the river. As for City Market, I like a very clean grocery store, don't you?
By the way, I am not a native, but I moved to Colorado when I was 4. My Dad's parents had property in the mountains of Colorado and he couldn't leave it, like me. By the way, Colorado Springs is mostly East and a little North.
You, too, may move here if you wish. Diversity can be a wonderful thing.
Thank you.......George
Hey, when people complain that the Californians are coming, I hope they understand this. We Californians have had to put up with the absolute overpopulation and exploitation and overdevelopment of our state for about the last 60 years.
If it were not for the crowds of people from the rest of the 47 contiguous states jumping on the wagon to MOVE to California, we probably would NEVER want to leave California.
But one thing you landlocked idiots dont understand is the Pacific Rim phenomenon. Economists predicted a huge increase in trade over the next two hundred years for every country, state, providence, island, and territory which has a coast on the Pacific Ocean, exceeding the growth of the United States for the past two hundred.
The reason for the Pacific Rim growth is due to the fact that on the other side of our west coast pond, is Asia. See any connection yet?
So, when you get uppity because we move to your area, shut up. We passed over your netherlands during the Great Migration before, and we found better living conditions in California, a nicer climate, a more diverse cropland, and oh yes, thousands of miles of unsullied beaches and coastline. Unfortunately, history has now caught up with the West Coast, and ruined the lifestyle forever.
It's not that we want to leave California, it's that we are being forced out by an organised military industrial complex hell bent on filling our lands with do gooder terrorist fighters, and jarheads and yes men for corporate defense contractors.
Hey, you think I don't know what I'm talking about? You don't understand nine tenths of it.
Like the man said, "You want the truth? YOU CAN"T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!!"
And as for the crybabies who are concerned the immigrants are coming, where were you when I sounded the alarm in San Diego twenty years ago, or when the Los Angeles population lost control of their city? If you're just waking up to this invasion, it's already too late. You want to do something about it? Investigate the subordination tactics the lobbyist group La Raza has under way for the last twenty years inside this country.
Its not all love and family values. Other than that, I hope you find peace with your new neighbors. Most of them were forced by circumstances to leave their native country to find a place where they could find happiness. Just like us native Californians.
Sincerely,
Native Californian of five generations, forced to find new lands.
PS: My wife is Mexican and I was a guest in her country for ten years. Now that's gracious hospitality, unlike anything found in the USA.
Emily I agree with you when you stated "But, you know what, I’m not worried about it. Because we’re all from somewhere else. Our society has always been on the move—from east to west, west to east, north to south. As a whole, we migrate, we move, we change.". The West was built on migration. If they were not coming from the New England area or Midwest they are coming from somewhere else. Places like Mexico, Asia, Southern Europe. The West is a border land that people move through on their way to the next opportunity.
This idea that Californians are moving inland is believable especially for me in the Salt Lake Valley. House prices on the Benches have increased dramatically because people are able to sell for more, and buy for less in Utah. And just like you said it is the nature of things to move and sell your home for more than you paid. Although I am not particularly fond of the idea of more people congesting my home, I understand that it is inevitable. All things considered though inbound people do bring a greater diversity of people and ideas. These together promote opportunity for more economic growth, so it can not be all bad.
Sincerely
~Tyler
Native Salt Lake Valley Dweller
Great article. When I was 16 I moved from a large city in the southeast to Sandpoint, Idaho. Sandpoint is a small tourist town in the panhandle Northern Idaho. Sandpoint is the perfect example of everything talked about in your article. Sandpoint has been transformed from a small community that depended on logging and mining to a town that now depends on tourism. The years that i spent in Sandpoint taught me it is not easy to become a local in a small town. However they also taught me that it does not take long develop a love hate relationship with tourists. You quickly learn to love their money, but hate the traffic they create.
Comment By jonathon, 4-18-08Excellent article. I think the most important thing you mentioned in this article was the affect that tourists and people who live in that community part time have on the community. The problem that a lot of these communities face is that while they attempt to revive their local economy after losing logging or mining industries, they attract tourists that drive up prices and make it more dificult for locals to stay. I know first hand how locals can come to hate the fact that outsiders can come to their community and make local decisions without living there full time. I know I appreciate the money brought in byb tourist, but I really wish that the tourists would leave the decision making to the people who are more intimately connected to the land.
Jonathon
Ogden