A Year in Central Oregon

A few months ago, I started drafting a list of items comparing Oregon to Colorado. I'm not entirely sure what it was that sparked the mental need to make a list, but after having a rough day it seemed an appropriate activity in the moment.  The list wasn't really for a specific purpose, but I was coming to understand some things about our surroundings and I find comparison lists helpful for clearing out my mind. 

When we arrived here, we spent about three months roaming to different places to "live," a week or so at a time, while we waited, trying to find a home to purchase. When we found a place, it was a complete wreck, but somehow knew that it was the place for us. We then spent eight months fully immersed in the house we bought, tearing it up, replacing everything, fixing things that no one else would bother to repair. Finally, in the last few weeks, it's started to feel complete, whole, and as though we could actually spend some time enjoying the space. 

On a hike with the pup on part of the Deschutes River Trail a couple of weeks ago.

All of the work has come at a cost (as I've mentioned) to our physical state (particularly me, as I've spent most of my days working on the house - though I know Sam isn't far behind). I've not ridden the way I normally would. I haven't worked out as I typically would. My dominant hand has had so much stress and strain that I wake each morning, unable to release the clenched fist I've made in my sleep. These things take a toll on my mental and emotional state of being as well, and it causes me to question decisions. But, having the opportunity to see the fruits of our labor, I can start to settle into routines again. 

After moving from Colorado to Oregon late in spring of 2021, I couldn't help but make comparisons. Superficially, visually, it's easy to think of them as similar places, going from one high desert to another, but the more time we have spent in central Oregon, the more I have realized how different it really is from our prior home. Different doesn't necessarily equate to bad, but the opposite isn't necessarily true either. I did (do) definitely prefer the cycling spaces in Colorado, despite the plethora of bike lanes here in Oregon. 

Riding is probably the biggest, most important difference in my personal, everyday life. Before we moved, we were told that cycling here in central Oregon is some of the best. I would argue that it depends on the type of cycling one does. There are certainly innumerable trails to ride and mountain paths to explore, but road-riding for any distance seems to be much more challenging. While I enjoy riding trails on occasion, it just isn't what I spend most of my riding time doing. The roads here are rough with few exceptions and as is the case in many cities across the US, motorists seem to believe that bike lanes are used to drive in and through at their leisure, or park in because they can't be bothered to find another space to use.

We came to Oregon because of a job opportunity for Sam that was, as presented, too good to pass up. I wasn't thrilled about leaving Colorado, but I agreed that the job was one that simply couldn't be turned down, and trying to be adaptable and not sulk about who/what would be left behind, agreed that we could make home anywhere. I still believe that to be true, but I also understand that there are certain areas of life that I had grown accustomed to and the change to a new area was more challenging than I had anticipated. Still, I was prepared to see the move through and figure out ways around the challenges of a new place.

A few months into Sam's job in Oregon, things started to turn. There were signals and signs that things at work were not quite as they'd been portrayed pretty early on. We forged ahead though, believing that everything has its ups and downs. By the new year, we were both completely aware of the reality that this "great job" was not going to exist in the very near future. It's not an easy thing to come to grips with a reality that we would, more than likely, be making a move again.  

Sam searched for work locally for a couple of months. The reality is that we're in a somewhat isolated area, and being able to find work that could sustain life was going to be a challenge. We believed we were here for a reason though and even though this new-to-us place had become somewhat tainted with the lies we'd been told, we hoped to not have to make a big move yet again and so soon. 

Not having much success with his job search, Sam broadened things to look pretty much anywhere in the US for jobs. His experience would no doubt land him something that was reasonable, but I really wanted to make sure that he found something where he'd be happy and able to grow with an organization. It's what I'd hoped for him here in Oregon as well. 

We reached out to a few friends who we thought might have connections that would be valuable for job searching, and there were many interviews over the weeks and months, but nothing panned out. It was upsetting, stressful, disheartening, but I believed that when the right opportunity came up, it would be clear and obvious. Sam hoped to find something remote so that we wouldn't be forced to move immediately, but he hasn't had the best luck finding those sorts of jobs in the past, and it didn't go particularly well this time either.

Eventually, what felt like the right opportunity presented itself. Try as I might, I couldn't help but find myself laughing about where the job is though. It isn't a remote job (though Sam is working remotely for the time being until we can get settled again), but we are headed back to the very same city we left in Colorado. What are the odds?

We've both run through an array of emotions and more than anything, neither of us is looking forward to having yet another project house. We already know we will have another project house because nothing is even remotely affordable. There's always hope... but we're both realistic about the current state of things and know that odds aren't on our side to avoid another big project. 

We've tried to also contemplate what the lessons are in this whole mess. I always believe that things happen for a purpose, though it isn't always entirely obvious what those reasons are. Certainly, we've both gained additional house renovating skills (though I'm of the belief that we would've been fine continuing on without those additional skills). I'm pretty convinced I've packed on pounds as well -- though I refuse to weigh myself. But, not finding much time for physical activity, how could I expect anything less? For Sam, I think the move helped him realize exactly where home is, but for me, the reasons seem a little less obvious or tangible. 

I know that I have learned that I am far less relaxed than I had believed myself to be. I have always seen myself as pretty easy-going (and I still think that is true in many portions of life), but after living in an area where the vast majority of people have no sense of time or personal responsibility, I think I am far more, for lack of better delineation at the moment, Type A than I believed myself to be. I like to get stuff done. I mean, yeah, I like to get stuff done so that I can f*ck off, but still, I want to get that stuff completed. I am grateful though that I know I am (we are) willing to work hard at the things that are important to me (us) and to those I care about.

I have also been reminded of my father a lot while living in Bend. I've mentioned in the past that we came here to visit in the late 80's/early 90s (I want to say it was 1989 or 1990, but we've debated this a bit within the family as we have different recollections of the summer of our Bend visit). We've passed places that I know with certainty we visited when we were here and it brings up a lot of emotion, having lost my dad just over six years ago. In some ways, it makes me feel closer to him, and in others it causes me to regret the many, many years we lost together. We didn't have much of an adult relationship and while we'd both made peace by the time of his passing, it's sad to think about the lost years that we could have had. In reality, I talk to him so much more now than I ever did when he was alive, which is both sad and not so in the same breath. 

Me and B-dog walking a path along the Deschutes River.

*Photo courtesy of my brother, who recently paid us a brief visit.

Our experience living in Oregon has had some highs and lows, but we are both entirely grateful to be in the process of heading back home to Colorado. I am thankful for the experience here, but I can't wait to ride in Colorado again, and although I am not looking forward to the extreme heat, winds, and potential/likely fires, we know that it is home. Hopefully, this time we'll have the opportunity to stay put, permanently. At least that is the hope. 

We don't have an exact timeline for our return just yet, but we remain hopeful that by mid(ish) June, we'll be back in the area, and hopefully will have found home again by the end of summer. I am also hopeful that life won't be quite as transient this summer as it was last and that life will pick up again fairly easily and quickly... but, I also know that is a hope and not necessarily what will take place. But, I look forward to hopefully having the opportunity to share more rides again in the relatively near future.