Artfully Aging #3
Ruling out the great to discover what works best is the secret to artfully aging
I feel close to being in my element, nestled in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, in Truckee, just inside the California border.
I’ve been here a week now, and visiting Truckee feels like stepping into a postcard. This rustic town offers more than just breathtaking scenery—it exudes a sense of community, cute shops, historic buildings, and a slower pace of life that makes me wonder if I could call it home.
Plus, there are endless hiking, biking, and water activities. The grocery store is fully stocked with items you’d expect to find in an upscale health food store—it's even two stories, which is a rarity for a small town. And the Ace Hardware is fantastic; it has everything from gardening and fishing gear to clothes, artwork, and furniture.
If I’m feeling frisky, Reno is close by with Whole Foods, Sierra Trading Post, a variety of unique stores, and plenty of entertainment options. They even have a fully operational mall and large outlet, a rare find in rural and suburban areas today."
I'm drawn by the allure of outdoor recreation, the charm of its close-knit community, and the convenience of big-town amenities. Truckee has a way of making me consider not just visiting, but staying for the long haul.
Living in Truckee is out of the question, or is it?
For my entire working adult life, my career dictated where I lived. Now, work no longer dictates, but living an artfully aging life does.
I’m in my mid-sixties. I’m not a millionaire. I don’t downhill ski or snowboard, and I’m terrified of wildfires. I don’t navigate driving in snow and ice well, and the thought of being trapped and isolated during the winters is unnerving.
So why would I even consider living in Truckee?
Because for my entire life, I’ve dreamed of living in Switzerland. Donner/Tahoe is the closest I’ve come to the Swiss Alps since I was 19 years old. Hiking and climbing in Switzerland was one of those unforgettable highlights of my life, and perhaps I’m guilty of romanticizing—something I often do when reliving monumental moments from the past. Those few days of mountaineering have stayed with me, constantly fueling my imagination and inspiring me to seek out new treks and elevation.
I hike, mountain bike, rock climb, cross-country ski, and snowshoe.
The last time I visited here, back in 2019, I connected with my friend L for a quick breakfast while passing through from Sacramento to Reno. She was visiting a friend of hers, who is now my friend and therapist. Through this chance meeting, I was briefly introduced to my therapist, G, and that relationship blossomed into her providing guidance and encouragement as I navigated aging and health challenges, getting married, changing jobs, relocating across the country, starting a new career, and semi-retiring. Whew.
G’s been with me through thick and thin.
Recently, G encouraged me to explore Northern Nevada and California for our next move. With semi-retirement on the horizon for both my husband, Carl, and me, it’s time to narrow down our options and plan for the future.
Chatting with the locals
We all met in Truckee this week to celebrate L’s birthday. It was an intimate gathering featuring healthy, delicious food, great conversation, and a wealth of shared information. What struck me deeply was the relaxed and informal social atmosphere, with a focus on shared experiences in nature and a strong sense of individuality.
Our lively discussion covered housing costs, the sense of community, and the physically demanding nature of Truckee’s rugged terrain. We also talked about the challenges of maintaining a home in this environment, the labor-intensive upkeep, and how winter weather can lead to road closures or power outages, isolating residents and making it difficult to access services or visit friends.
None of us are young. But we all share love for the lifestyle that is often more adventurous and active, with a strong emphasis on fitness and outdoor experiences.
My (almost) first challenge
It was Sunday evening, the sky was a soft blue, the winds were minimal, and the temperature was in the low eighties. I was binging the crime drama Dexter when, suddenly, the smoke detector started screaming at ear-piercing decibels.
I wasn’t cooking (had I been, this wouldn’t have surprised me one bit), and I didn’t smell smoke. The light indicated carbon monoxide. I don’t know much about that, except that years ago, two distant relatives of mine died this way—likely suicide, though it was one of those things kept top secret in a family that didn’t like discussing anything sordid or sinister.
The power gradually dimmed and went out entirely.
My phone had no signal.
I was stuck without supplies like a flashlight or any means of communication, except text messaging.
I ripped the smoke detector out of the wall and stepped outside, ready to throw it on the ground and stomp on it. But common sense prevailed, and I took the battery out. While outside, I connected with my two neighbors, Sven and Steph. They updated me: three fires, two very close—one behind a local grocery store about six miles away.
I should have been concerned about the local one, but what scared me more was the fire that broke out in Verdi, NV, less than 20 miles away. The area I’d been exploring for housing in the past few days.
A car caught fire and spread to 40 acres, quickly morphing into over 600 acres overnight.
Evacuation orders were poised.
Interstate 80 was shut down going east, so the only way out was west.
Now I understand the magnitude of the potential for deadly forest fires and how quickly things can get out of control.
We were lucky. The power came back on at daybreak.
The firefighters had it almost 85% contained by the next evening.
Remarkably, I was able to sleep soundly through the entire night, even as disaster lurked not far from my door.
Takeaways from Truckee
A sense of preparedness can reduce anxiety and provide peace of mind. Putting together a bug-out bag is a top priority for living in a relatively remote mountain town. (I’ll share more on this in a later post because I believe it’s essential for rural living, no matter where you are in the country.) Additionally, I’m making it a priority to learn emergency procedures in case of disasters, moving forward.
Housing Costs: Truckee’s desirability as a vacation destination and playground for the wealthy has driven up housing prices, making homeownership nearly impossible. Renting is an option, but you get much less for your money. The catch is that most rentals are on a month-to-month basis. After talking to some locals, I learned that renting isn’t a great option either. Depending on the market, landlords often decide to sell, leaving tenants scrambling with little notice.
Interestingly, there’s a refreshing lack of age discrimination here; on the hiking trails, you’ll find energetic teens, seasoned adventurers, and everyone in between, all doing their thing. Even while shopping, the generations mix creating a community that feels both welcome and vibrant.
In other words, I no longer feel invisible or out of touch with the world. This has been a huge confidence builder, and my zest for life has returned.
What does all this mean for relocating?
It's a funny thing—housing, fuel, utilities, groceries—costs have skyrocketed across the U.S. I've come to realize that if we base our decision solely on financial criteria, it almost doesn't matter where we choose to live. The challenge of rising costs will always be there, no matter where we are in this country.
Is Truckee the right place, and does it make my heart sing? No to the former, yes to the latter.
Location is key to my journey of artfully aging, shaping not just the backdrop of my days but also the opportunities for connection, adventure, and the peace I seek in this chapter of life.
So maybe it’s not just about being in my element, but about what feels right in heart and soul. If a place brings daily joy, even with practical challenges, then that might be the compromise worth making.
Does location matter to you, and if so, do you follow your heart, or are you content with staying where circumstances have placed you?
You are such a Romantic! Nice read. Love, your Husband
Such a great, well-written post. What you're saying here resonates deeply. The more psychological and emotional elements. Also, the practical ones. Particularly the idea that, no matter where you go, it's expensive in the US. Unless you're willing to live in, say, Toledo, you're pretty much paying money that requires really good income or a lot of savings.