I went into the big city for the first time since I moved here six years ago. It was interesting.
I am no stranger to big cities. For almost a decade I lived in New York City, then a series of other big East Coast cities. I’ve spent time in Chicago and Atlanta and traveled to 38 of our 50 states. But when you have been living in a one-horse town in the middle of nowhere, it’s an experience to go from ten people per square mile to 2,000 or more.
I have been to cities since moving, of course, but they are smaller cities with 75,000 or 100,000 people. I’ve driven on Interstates through or around large cities when we travel, but it has been years since I parked the car in a downtown garage, got out, and walked down the street in a metropolitan area of 750,000 or more people.
Surprisingly, I got right back into the groove. I’m used to dirt roads and steep hills with gnats and the occasional snake. Sidewalks and crosswalks aren’t so different, just more crowded, and the snakes are the two-legged kind.
It Creeps Up on You
This city was about three-and-a-half hours away from our property. Well before I got to the city, it was obvious things were changing. The first thing I noticed was more industrial property along the highway. Out where we live, it’s mostly trees along the side of the road, even on the Interstates. There are mountains, an occasional river, and a few farms, but as we drove farther from the mountains, warehousing and manufacturing replaced the farms. Then came the developments. Square houses plopped down five or six to an acre in a layout designed to give everyone a short driveway and a tiny piece of backyard while still fitting on as many homes per acre as possible.
Outside the city, it was shopping central. We saw—and went to—the first Costco I had been to in a few years. In the same area, which I call Big Box Central, was a Sam’s Club, a Lowe’s, a Home Depot, a Kohl’s (you mean they still have those?), a Target, and a Home Goods. I know that for many of you, this is normal. For us, it was a nostalgic look at how our lives used to be, when you could go to three stores and eat at the China Buffet or Olive Garden in between stops. These days, the nearest Target and Home Depot are 90 minutes away. We can’t “run out” and pick something up. Going shopping takes time and planning. That is one of the biggest differences we had to get used to.
When the city grew close, the highway grew walls. There were steep cement barriers everywhere to keep noise and errant drivers from escaping our concrete canyon and bothering the soccer moms and their hard-working husbands in their starter homes along the highway.
Expected and Unexpected
Here’s a list of what I observed. If you live in the city and go to the country, expect the opposite.
- More EVs and fewer pickups. There were still pickup trucks, of course, but some were small like the Maverick, while the biggest ones belonged to businesses and were towing a trailer. No one in the city has a Ford F250 or Silverado 2500 as their daily driver. And almost no one in the country drives a Tesla. I saw a Tesla Cybertruck in person for the first time; it is even uglier than I expected.
- Mass Transit. Despite having commuted by subway, rail, and express bus during my career, I forgot how important mass transit is in the big city. Buses are everywhere, and they make traffic and pollution worse.
- Ride Shares. There are almost no Uber drivers deep in Appalachia; if you vacation out here, don’t plan on taking an Uber to dinner. In the city, they are everywhere. You can’t help but see them pulling up in front of buildings, letting people in and out. I rarely used Uber when I lived in the suburbs or exurbs because I had a personal vehicle, but we always did when in another city for business or pleasure.
- More Traffic. This should be expected. It had been a while since I had been in a traffic jam or had to wait for a light to turn green two or more times to get through the intersection. I don’t miss the traffic.
- Fewer smiles. Out where I live, people will stop and have a word with a stranger. I can’t count the number of people I’ve met while pumping gas. You start by saying a few words, and before you know it, you know where they live, the people you know in common, and who they are related to. In the city, everyone is a stranger, and gas stations can be dangerous, especially at night. The friendliness/politeness or lack thereof can be seen on the highways and hallways.
- Homelessness. I saw little homelessness, but there were beggars and panhandlers. Maybe I was in the wrong part of town, or perhaps they all moved to California. In theory, there is homelessness out here in the mountains, but it is not visible. I’ve only ever met one person in our area who was living in his car, and that lasted less than a week.
I always remember a bustle in New York. People walked fast, like they were always in a hurry. That pace wasn’t evident in this city, but then it’s called “a New York minute” for a reason. I used to look at the sidewalk a block away or the other side of the subway platform, and it was a sea of people. I think this city was happier than Atlanta and Chicago, and more relaxed. There was also less yelling and honking than I recall.
Weird, Yet Familiar
So how was my sojourn to the big city? Weird, but not radically so. If necessary, I expect I could slot right back in there, taking the bus to work, ignoring people in the elevator, crossing against the light, giving the finger to people who honked, looking for threats at the gas station, etc. You know, all the usual stuff.
Like the European who visited for the World Cup, I never felt unsafe while I was out and about. I was heavily armed, but never thought, “Gee, I’m glad I have my gun.” Unlike the Europeans, I was less impressed by the size of the portions; I didn’t get any barbecue, and I only got one sample at Costco. I did make a nostalgic visit to a Sheetz, which I don’t think I have visited since 2022. Turns out, I wasn’t missing much; their $1 cookies are now $2.50.
But just because I could survive in the city doesn’t mean I want to go back permanently. I’d miss seeing the stars at night, being on a first-name basis with someone everywhere I go, the clean air, the solitude, and the freedom. I enjoy being able to shoot target practice off my deck and in the driveway, and there is certain freedom in being able to pee pretty much anywhere I want in the great outdoors and no one can see or complain. (Ladies, ask your men-folk; they’ll know what I am talking about.)
If I lived in the city, I would plot an escape. As it was, I was happy to drive back home.
But who knows? Maybe I’ll visit again in another five years. Until then, three-and-a-half hours by car seems like a pretty safe distance.
