Oregon City Grapples With Growing Pains

Moving to this city in the shadow of the snow-covered Cascades gives newcomers the rare opportunity to ski in the morning, play golf in the afternoon and still find time for swimming and snowboarding.

But at one time, for those arriving from big cities, the allure was the pace. They figured this outpost would give them a chance to slow down and manage their hectic lives.

They may have slowed, but growth came to central Oregon’s high desert. And it arrived in a hurry.

Oregon’s new census figures confirm what residents already know: Deschutes County, a magnet for small high-tech companies, the resort industry and retirees, was the state’s fastest-growing over the last decade. The county population increased from 74,958 in 1990 to 115,367 last year--up nearly 54%.

Bend, the county’s largest city, more than doubled in size, from 20,000 in 1990 to more than 50,000 today.

Within 10 years, some city officials predict that this city that doesn’t ring a bell with most Americans might just reach a population of 75,000 to 100,000 people, further clogging roads, increasing housing prices and straining the school system.

“I promised myself when I moved to really slow down, but it seems like this place has speeded up too,” said Tami Stayner, who returned to Bend in 1998 after more than 30 years in Portland and California.

“It makes me sad to walk out to a street corner and suddenly realize there are no familiar faces here anymore.”

Much of the growth is happening in mostly white subdivisions, where new homes are being added to multiplying cul-de-sacs. Many of the new residents come from Portland, Seattle, California. Some are baby boomers retiring early or buying a second house as a status symbol and retreat.

Many have been lured here by Bend’s climate and recreational opportunities, seduced into chasing a nature lover’s dream of hiking the more than 1.6-million-acre Deschutes National Forest and fly-fishing on the Deschutes River, which flows south to north through the city.

But their fears are as recognizable as the pine-covered Cascade Mountains, with uncontrolled growth, increased traffic congestion and an expanding population topping the list. Some residents even say they would like the city’s population in 2010 to drop to an unlikely 46,000.

Even those who benefit from growth believe it’s time to slow down.

“The builders are defining who we are, and it should be the other way around,” said Rich Petersen, a foreman on a construction project in the Old Mill District, so named for a defunct timber mill that once was the city’s lifeblood.

In last year’s election, voters changed the makeup of the City Council by choosing a slate of slow-growth candidates. The winners quickly fired the city manager because of his unwavering advocacy of economic development. They ordered an audit of existing zoning laws and might revamp the building permit process.

“We are going to grow, there’s no stopping it. But it’s a matter of how we grow,” Councilwoman Kyla Merwin said.

Pro-growth council members say the new majority’s overzealousness might lead to broken development laws, and business interests fear Bend’s boom could go bust.

“If we start messing around with slow growth, it might slow down the economy as well,” Councilwoman Kathie Eckman said.

Eckman also worries that housing costs will rise if increased fees are placed on developers. Houses worth $100,000 were rare a decade ago. The average price today is $168,000. Cheap compared to Los Angeles, San Francisco or Seattle, it is nonetheless shocking to Eckman and other longtime residents.

The rapid growth seems unreal to those who lived here during the economic slump of the 1980s, when unemployment was in double digits and bored teenagers couldn’t wait to leave Bend behind.

Even ardent complainers say growth has been more good than bad. There are better stores, better restaurants, more art galleries and now more people to date. A posting on Bend.com noted some of the newcomers are cute.

“What’s growth meant? It’s meant my two sons graduated from college, came back to Bend and got good jobs. That was pretty rare in the old days,” said Ed Doorn, a community college instructor who moved here in 1967 when Bend had one stoplight and 11,000 people.

The concern is that too much growth will make things worse, or at least make Bend look like the places people fled.

Although there’s still some small-town friendliness--the manager at Burger King actually comes to your table to ask if you’re enjoying the food--residents say the influx of city people is changing all of that.

Diane Robertson, who co-owns a catering business, said the discourteousness is mostly found on the roads, where frustrated commuters drive on the shoulder and run red lights, even honking their horns.

Her business partner, Eileen Donat, a New Yorker who moved here 25 years ago, agrees: “I think they’ve brought bad habits from the big city in which everyone has lost their patience and sense of humor.”

The traffic jams alone are exasperating to a laid-back 21-year-old snowboarder.

“I’ve never had road rage in my life, but a five-minute drive from north to south takes me 20 minutes,” said Kelly Wolf.

To some transplants, the traffic concerns are overrated. While they acknowledge it is a hassle to sit in idle traffic for three or four minutes, this is nothing like the gridlock they faced back home. There’s endless talk about establishing a transit system, but even those strongly in favor question how successful it would be.

“I try not to slam the Californians, but I think they’re in love with their cars,” said Jeff Modray, a house painter who moved here from South Dakota in the 1980s.

The signs of growth go beyond the traffic congestion.

When motorists enter town on Highway 97, they see giant nets that catch golf balls at the driving range, a project that galvanized anti-growth groups. Halfway down the road are taco eateries, tanning salons, golf stores and carwashes. On the way out of town, Wal-Mart and Costco stand as sentries to super-size.

Heavy machinery waits ready to plant more buildings on the dotted landscape. Unfinished stores sit on unfinished streets.

“My friend calls it the attack of the killer backhoes,” Modray said.

Merwin says roads like Highway 97 place Bend in danger of becoming Anytown, USA. And still people continue to pour into Deschutes and other counties east of the Cascades.

They’ve read glowing reviews about Bend in bicycling and outdoor magazines, and come to find a place where the air and water are clean and the forests, mountains and streams are still untarnished. And that gridlock? To some, it’s a matter of perspective.

“Is growth good or bad? It’s inevitable,” said John Kieffer, 60, who moved here from Alaska after retirement. “Especially in nice places like this.”