Snow and Wind -- Just the Place to Retire

Here in northern Wyoming, where the buffalo roam and the deer and the antelope really do play, a quiet revolution is taking place.

It’s apparent in the legions of white heads piloting vehicles at a steady 25 mph along roadways, the long lines at the senior center cafeteria and the packed clubhouse at the local golf course.

“We came from Houston,” said Linda Newell, 61, who moved here with her husband four years ago. “I feel lucky to have found it.”

For the last decade, retirees from across the nation have been moving to Buffalo and into every other nook of Wyoming as well. According to census projections, by 2020 about 40% of state residents will be older than 60, making it the oldest population in the country, outstripping even Florida, officials say.

Places such as Buffalo, Lander, Sheridan, Cody, Jackson and Douglas have become prime destinations -- chiefly because of their stunning natural beauty, affordability and sense of community.

Yes, it’s cold and the wind is so strong that highways are sometimes shut down to keep cars from being blown away. In winter, temperatures can plunge well below zero. Hail comes often and in dime-, penny-, and quarter-size varieties.

It’s also remote. With an average of five people per square mile and a population of barely 500,000, Wyoming is often described as a small town with long roads, where pronghorn antelope outnumber humans. Outside of wealthy areas such as Jackson, cultural offerings such as theaters, museums and ballet are thin.

And still they come.

Del Bowers, 67, arrived a year ago after living in Salt Lake City and Los Angeles.

“For a lot of folks, here is all they need,” he said. “For me it’s the open space. Winters aren’t as harsh as they used to be, thanks to global warming. We only have a few days a year of 26-below-zero temperatures.”

Locals say it’s “a dry cold.”

Aside from being beautiful, Wyoming is also cheap. Someone selling their Los Angeles tract house for $400,000 can relocate to Buffalo in a bigger home on far more land for less than half that. Wyoming’s property and sales taxes are among the lowest in the country, and there is no state income tax.

“A lot of retirees have this image of Arizona and Florida as an oasis for old people, and they have an image of themselves as being younger and more active,” said Rita Inoway, director of Wyoming’s AARP. “They are looking for open space, land and opportunities for recreation.”

Many new retirees are between 50 and 65, and don’t require the level of medical care sometimes needed by older folks. But Wyoming suffers a shortage of doctors and nurses in rural areas, which health officials worry could spell trouble in the future.

“There is an increasing need for specialty care we can’t deliver,” said Deborah Fleming, director of Wyoming’s Department of Health. “Many people drive to Denver, Salt Lake City or Rapid City [S.D.] to see a specialist. I am very concerned that this will be a major issue when the [baby] boomers retire.”

Perhaps, but in a state where young people often leave because they can’t find jobs, many officials see retirees not as burdens but as people with money to spend and skills to share.

AARP, along with Wyoming Gov. David Freudenthal, wrote a study this year called “Ahead of the Curve,” examining the retirement phenomenon.

Freudenthal has been holding meetings around the state urging local officials to get ready for the demographic shift. He also ordered an investigation of the rural healthcare system to see if it could handle the rapidly aging population.

“What we are really trying to do is get people to think about this,” the governor said. “I think we would be missing the boat if we didn’t tap into these retirees’ business expertise. These people can enrich our lives. People don’t stop living anymore when they retire.”

Retirees began colonizing Buffalo after many discovered it en route to Yellowstone National Park.

Sitting about 30 miles south of Sheridan, Buffalo is a speck of a place nestled among the emerald-green foothills of the Big Horn Mountains. A broad, clear creek winds through downtown, where children cast flies for trout hidden among the rocks. Antelope caper in misty meadows and deer linger on roadsides.

The combination of mountain, river and sky always has attracted people to this part of the world. Native Americans inhabited the area thousands of years before Europeans arrived. In the early 19th century, a group of Basques left Spain’s Pyrenees Mountains to herd sheep here.

Today, Buffalo is a community of gentle hills with old, rambling homes and fenced yards. The downtown is full of rustic hotels, fishing supply stores, cafes and churches. There are no Wal-Marts, Home Depots or chain grocery stores.

“You have to drive 25 miles to buy a pair of tube socks,” said Mayor Bruce Hepp.

For years,Buffalo’s claim to fame -- one still proudly touted by locals -- was being the smallest town in the country with its own YMCA. It also had the biggest outdoor swimming pool in Wyoming.

Now, with 38% of its 4,000 population older than 55, it’s known as one of the oldest communities in the state.

The changes are obvious all over town. New senior apartments are being built. Traffic is increasing. Home developments are going up and prices are rising.

The local newspaper plays heavily to its aging audience.

A recent edition of the Buffalo Bulletin carried headlines such as “Facing the onset of death,” “Hospice offers gentle journey to the other side” and “The process of death -- Nurse describes what happens to the body.”

The revolution is most obvious at the senior center.

The cafeteria that once served 65 people a day now dishes up meals to 150, seven days a week. The staff has grown from six to 30, and the annual budget has expanded to $700,000.

“We used to get 20 new retirees a year, now we get 40,” said Margaret Wilder, senior center director. “I have people moving here from places like Chicago because there is a two-year wait there to get meals-on-wheels. We get baby boomers that retire and then bring their parents with them. They are a wonderful resource; they aren’t ready to quit yet.”

For Tom and Linda Newell, retired information technologists, Buffalo was the end result of a long search. The couple had spent most of their lives in Houston, and hoped to find a mountain home where they could indulge their passion for backpacking, skiing and fishing.

They tried Fort Collins, Colo., for a year but found it too congested. Then a physician friend who had moved to Buffalo suggested they visit.

“We fell in love with it instantly,” said Tom Newell, 62. “We loved the mountains and the access to wilderness. The town is small, it’s not hectic and there is no pressure. It’s just a great quality of life here.”

The couple bought a condo near downtown. They pass their winters skiing and snowshoeing; come summer it’s fishing and hiking. When not in the mountains, they spend their time in various community activities. Tom volunteers as an emergency medical technician and member of the local search and rescue team. Linda volunteers at a nearby hospice. Both are active in their church.

“Our lives are now at a much more comfortable pace. It’s been a dramatic change from living in a big town like Houston, but it hasn’t been hard to get used to,” Tom said. “Yes, it gets cold, but you adjust. It’s not Siberia.”

His wife said Buffalo is best for those who love the outdoors.

“We live on the edge of culture up here. Shopping is not a big thing because there are so few stores,” she said. “I have had friends say they miss the ballet and theater, but I like the fishing and skiing. I’m learning to tie my own flies now.”

Not surprisingly, the influx has caused tensions around the state. Bumper stickers have sprouted with messages like “We don’t give a damn how you did it where you came from,” bluntly telling new arrivals to keep their advice to themselves.

Newcomers complain that Wyoming towns have practically no zoning laws and little long-term planning. The perfectly rectangular state with its proudly ornery population has a strong antigovernment, libertarian streak that is not given to over-regulation.

“About the only thing you can’t put in your backyard is a nuclear waste dump,” said Marvin Johnson, a retiree from Colorado.

Such issues are the daily fodder for the numerous informal coffee clubs that have sprung up in places such as Buffalo.

Each morning retired men, and at times women, gather at spots such as Pistol Pete’s Cafe and Hardee’s to mull the days events, assess gossip and debate changes in the community.

“You get two kinds of people retiring here,” said Mike Moons, a 56-year-old former Ohioan sipping coffee at Hardees with his friends. “Those who want to keep it the way it is, and those who want to change it to look like the place they came from and couldn’t wait to leave.”

Jim Hicks, 69, the retired editor of the Buffalo Bulletin, said the traffic was getting so bad it actually took a few extra seconds to make a left on Main Street that morning.

A few mourned the gradual loss of Buffalo’s agricultural roots and hoped the state’s reputation for inclement weather might scare off those thinking of moving in.

“Nothing like 30 below zero to keep out the riff-raff,” Moons said dryly.

And yet the realization of impending change was there.

“I don’t care if other people come to town,” said Al Brooks, a Buffalo native. “If we get good, quality people it will be an asset to our community.”