Let's get real. Every town has its own set of social strata. Ours is no exception and I think we have about 5 distinct layers. Haven't been here long, so correct me if I'm wrong.
Bottom layer - West Ranch. I started looking to move here about 5 or 6 years ago. What's a good area to explore, I asked. NOT West Ranch. You don't want to go there unless you are fully armed. There are plenty of realtors who won't even TAKE you OUT there. Don't go there unless you want to live in the Sierra version of Deliverance. No one has any idea what goes on out there, but it can't be good. They hear tell of banjo music late at night and you know where that leads. Even Jeff Foxworthy would run screaming. Of course, you know where I explored first. Here's what I found.
I found one primary road serving a very quiet canyon that was pretty much indistinguishable from the general area. Lots more trees, true. A road in better shape than where I wound up, true. Fewer properties with trashed cars than some areas, true. But for the most part just the same. I would drive there on my own or with friends to look at properties that were for sale and never felt that I would be shot on sight. My life was never threatened. I really liked the place. Didn't wind up moving there, true. It has a few fundamental problems for me.
No mail. That sucks. I am not a mail junkie. I throw most of it away and spend a lot of time and postage trying to convince folks that they really don't want to send me stuff. BUT. Having to drive 18 miles to the post office just to pick up junk mail is not my idea of being part of this great country of ours. Heck - they don't even have a bank of mailboxes a few miles away. One has to go all the way to the real post office. Strange. UPS and their like do go out there, though. When the road is passable.
No utilities. Well - there is phone service. From what I heard, the residents like it that way. They fight for their right to not have electricity. Yippee, I said initially. A whole pseudo-community that wants to live by solar and wind power. Not so fast, Cupcake. It's a north-facing deep canyon. Little constant sunlight, less constant wind. Bummer. Pretty much one has to be extra creative or use a generator. A generator. Not the quietest way of getting the the computer to work. Double bummer.
Extra extra long snow periods. The snow sticks in a north-facing canyon. Sigh.
So much for moving to West Ranch, said I. It's for the best, said everyone else - you know about those people. No, I really didn't, but I have since found out.
Last year there was a massive fire out that way. There hadn't been a burn out that way in a long time, so there was ample fuel. Gusty winds, a long hot summer, and a spark let the thing get nutty in no time at all. Buildings went up faster than the crews could get there, and people ran for their lives. The place was an inferno within hours, and the fire raged for days. A couple thousand acres and dozens of buildings went up.
Do you know what those people did? They took in neighbor's animals, gave shelter to those made homeless, and rallied with clothing, household goods, food, transportation. Immediately. They didn't get out their shotguns, hole up in their bunkers (not most of them anyway) or chase off the lookie-loos. They helped. No questions asked. They just knuckled down and helped. The whole town did, really. Heck, the whole county did. Even Arnie got in on it. But I digress.
The banjo playin', shotgun totin', inbred isolationists of West Ranch banded together to help out their fellow citizens in need, then quietly went back to their own quiet ways. They didn't parade themselves out as heroes. They didn't get themselves on the news for recognition. They didn't insist on interviews on TV for their 15 minutes. They just did what needed doing when it needed to be done.
These sound like my kinda folk.
Bummer it's so dark out there in the winter.
Just sayin'.
Keep on treading water, folks.
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