Former Pioneer Outpost
Is an Oasis for Retirees
March 8, 2004 -- When Barbara McCaw and her husband, Robert, retired to Boise, Idaho, from Southern California in 1999, friends tried to prepare the couple for the worst.
"Everyone gave me mufflers and sweaters before we left," Mrs. McCaw recalls. "And I bought a bread machine in case we were snowed in."
As it turns out, the past few winters have been so mild, "we didn't buy a snow shovel for two years," she says.
Boise and Idaho might have an image throughout much of the country as remote, rugged and having only two seasons: the Fourth of July and winter. But many retirees who settle here say that this city of 190,000 offers an agreeable mix of recreation, culture and, yes, climate.
In the summer, "we have a desert-like climate, which is really ideal," says Ernest Lombard, a retired architect and chairman of the board of the Idaho Department of Parks and Recreation. Even the average annual snowfall isn't as daunting as many outsiders suppose -- a total of 23.8 inches, or about the same as New York and barely half that of Boston.
Though Boise certainly doesn't attract as many retirees as destinations in Arizona and Florida, the area's 55-plus population has jumped to about 88,000 today from about 55,000 in 1990. Boosters say Idaho's largest city has managed to retain a small-town feel, despite the area's growing popularity.
Mr. McCaw, 73 years old, visited Hewlett-Packard Co.'s Boise facility several times on business and would always tell his wife how much he enjoyed the people he met on his trips. Then their son, who married a Boise woman and now lives there, told them how much he liked the city.
"He said it was like the world was 50 years ago," Mrs. McCaw, 71, recalls. "No one locks their doors, and they are so honest. They assume you are, too."
Growing Pains
As with other towns that find themselves "discovered," Boise is experiencing some growing pains. Air quality, although cleaner than that of many U.S. cities, has become a greater concern as the population swells, with emission controls and other regulations needed to keep it within government standards. The town sits in a valley where the air can easily become trapped.
"There are days when the air gets stagnant or we have elevated pollution," says Mike McGown, regional air-shed manager for the Idaho Department of Environmental Quality. An improved mass-transit system would help (riders using commuter vans or buses account for only 1% of trips in the area), but tax dollars are in short supply. (Residents within the Boise School District currently pay an average of $2,021 a year in property taxes.)
The lack of ethnic and racial diversity is also a concern, particularly for major corporations trying to entice minority hires to the area. In 2000, 93% of residents in Ada County, where Boise sits, were white, 4% were Hispanic, 2% were Asian, and fewer than 1% were black.
"We will probably always battle the issue of ethnic diversity," says Carolyn Terteling-Payne, former mayor of Boise. "We don't have the full spectrum we need."
Land of the Cottonwood
Boise's moniker, City of Trees, comes from the cottonwood trees growing along the Boise River, which flows through town. French-Canadian trappers named the waterway after the French word for "wooded" in the early 1800s. The river and its surrounding greenery were a welcome oasis for early settlers on the Oregon Trail. Now, Boise (pronounced Boy-see, not Boy-zee) has 41,000 trees in its public parks and streets, says city forester Jerry Stallsmith.
Snuggled against sagebrush-covered foothills at the edge of pristine wilderness, Boise remained more a small town than a capital city during its first 100 years. As recently as 1960, the population stood at only 35,000. Today, Boise has a diversified economy that includes numerous technology companies, state and county government organizations, and service and tourism businesses. Boise State University, the largest in Idaho, has about 18,500 students.
The two largest private employers, Hewlett-Packard and Micron Technology Inc., grew rapidly in the 1970s and 1980s and spawned many second- and third-generation tech start-ups. These companies and supporting businesses are largely responsible for the recent growth in the Treasure Valley, as the greater metropolitan area is called, to more than 450,000 residents.
After living in Seattle, Clark and Sue Holley wanted to settle in a city that had lots of sunshine, a four-season climate and less traffic -- and was close to ski resorts. They moved to Boise in 2000. Ironically, the couple had lived all over the U.S. and abroad while Mr. Holley was a construction engineer with Boise-based Morrison Knudsen, now Washington Group International Inc., but never in the company's hometown.
Cool Summer Nights
They say the heat during the past few summers was about the only thing they didn't expect. (The average high temperature in July is 89.5 degrees, but for the past two summers, temperatures have been well above 100 degrees for about a week or so.) But the dry desert air makes the days more bearable, and the city's 2,900-foot elevation keeps the nights cool. Mrs. Holley, 62, claims she and her husband rarely turn on their air conditioning, while Mr. Holley, 66, points out the advantage of spending the winter in a valley surrounded by foothills.
"There can be great snow in the hills for skiing, while it's dry as a bone down here," he says.
The Holleys preferred the warm feel of the North End, a historic neighborhood in the city's heart, where the average cost of a single-family home is $224,101, according to Intermountain Multiple Listing Service. The couple purchased and renovated an older home within walking distance of downtown and a new YMCA facility, which they visit most days.
One local anomaly: Boise, unlike many major cities, isn't responsible for maintaining its own streets. The Ada County Highway District, originally designed to smooth jurisdictional rivalries, was created in the early 1970s to oversee planning, maintenance and construction of streets, roads, bridges and related structures within the county, including the city.
But the highway district has become something of an obstacle to area planning and development. This independent entity is run by elected commissioners, and developers must seek its approval -- as well as the city's or county's -- to build in the region. "Independent" is the key word. If the highway district doesn't want a county road built, then most likely it won't get built.
"No one has oversight for the ACHD," says Jim Weatherby, a political-science professor at Boise State University. "It places limitations on elected officials in Boise to do land-use planning when they are relying on another set of elected officials."
Lively Center
Questions of jurisdiction aside, Boise has managed to avoid one mistake common to growing cities: promoting suburban office construction at the expense of the downtown core. After some historic buildings were demolished in the name of urban renewal in the 1970s, residents fought to preserve remaining structures. Now welcoming plazas and city blocks studded with coffeehouses, restaurants and shops keep the central core busy even after office workers leave for the evening. Entertainers and speakers often are featured at the Egyptian Theater, an Egyptian-revival style downtown movie theater restored to its 1926 condition.
The 22-mile long Greenbelt, one of 91 community parks, runs parallel to the Boise River and is a mecca for joggers, walkers and bikers. Lucky Peak Reservoir, the closest body of water, is 10 miles from Boise and has 45 miles of shoreline. Bogus Basin Mountain Resort, with 53 downhill ski runs and Nordic skiing, is just 16 miles north of town, or about 35 minutes by car. The metro area offers more than a dozen golf courses. The city maintains 80 miles of foothill trails for hiking and mountain biking.
Then there's Boise State, which in 2002 opened a Renaissance Institute for students age 50 and older. Individuals can attend its lectures and short courses for $30 for one season or semester, and $50 for two, plus any fees for materials.
For all this activity, Ms. Terteling-Payne, the former mayor, says visitors to Boise often are struck by how quiet the city is. "It's because they don't hear honking horns," she explains. She recalls gently telling a former suitor who honked at a motorist on their first date that Boise residents use their car horns only as a way to say hello to someone.
-- Ms. Capell, moved to Boise in 1999 from Princeton, N.J.
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