I’m a lifelong Westerner and proud of it. I’ve lived and traveled in a lot of countries, and to this day I’m a sucker for a new cultural experience. But I know who I am. I’m the kid that was born as far from the reach of Manifest Destiny as you could get without drowning. I’m talking about San Francisco, the Golden Gateway to the Pacific. And although I left The City (as we fondly called it) when I was in junior high, I spent a good part of my life within an hour or so radius from my hometown.

The city I’ve lived longest in to date (and this goes for my spouse as well) is Boise, Idaho. We moved there from Portland in 1995, and only left in 2013 in order to be minutes rather than hours away from hugging our grandchildren. Not a bad reason to move, and an even more inspired one when your change of venue is the Magic Skagit.

Still, I miss Boise. A lot. Having once lived in Iran (no, I’m not making this up), my wife and I really took to its high desert setting at the southwest end of the Snake River plain. You’d be amazed at how similar that area is to large stretches of Iran and Afghanistan. It is also a place steeped in pioneer history. Just above our home in southeast Boise was a remnant of the Oregon Trail.

The “City of Trees” has a lot going for it, as numerous lifestyle magazines regularly profess when they publish their “best places to live” features. I mean, what’s not to like about Boise? Four distinct seasons (none of them intolerable); plenty of urban culture in a laid back and discernible (but accessible) downtown core; a 40-mile Greenbelt that follows the Boise River; gorgeous foothill sunsets with night skiing just 45 minutes away at Bogus Basin; the best damn calamari I’ve ever eaten to this day (Gino’s Italian Restaurant). I could go on, but I’m making myself homesick — and I love my new home too much to court that kind of inner conflict.

When you think about it, however, there’s hardly an attribute of Boise worth celebrating that isn’t true for the Skagit Valley. There is, however, a notable difference in scale. When last I checked, the population of Boise, Idaho is just shy of 230,000 (based on 2018 data), compared to just over 129,000 for Skagit County. Mount Vernon, lest I remind you, is currently home to around 35,000 souls (including mine and my wife’s).

It’s not so much that “size matters” when we’re talking about the difference between Boise and Mount Vernon. It’s about how being more than 6 times larger manifests itself in recognizable coalitions of buildings and people that we call “neighborhoods.” Sure, we have them to some extent in the Skagit Valley — but nothing like they do in the City of Trees, capital of the Gem State. There’s Southeast/Bown Crossing (where my wife and I called home, and love to this day), Warm Springs, The Bench, The Rim, The Linen District, Downtown (aka, BODO), Harrison…and, perhaps, the most notable and endearing of all: The North End.

If you want to dwell in Boise’s pioneer past, its living epicenter is the North End, complete with its very own “town square” in miniature known as Hyde Park. The North End boasts what would have to be the largest concentration of Victorian and Edwardian era residences in Idaho, many of which have incorporated the distinctive masonry of sandstone blocks quarried on the eastern outskirts of town, near the old territorial prison (you can still see the room where hangings took place) and adjacent Botanical Garden (a jewel of the civic crown). But just as impressive is the sheer diversity of architectural styles.

And people in the North End, God love ‘em, do love their homes. Look up “pride of place” in the dictionary and you’ll probably see a photo of a block somewhere around the intersection of 8th and Sherman. In the summer, the North End is a leafy oasis of elms, sycamores, oaks, and maples. Which means that it’s a blaze of glory in the Fall, and an intricate web of limbs latticing a winter sky. And then, there’s Spring. Did I mention pride of place? Spring occupies an especially sacred space in the hearts of North End gardeners. And everyone gardens who lives in the North End.

Culturally, how should I describe the North End? I like to joke that it is Idaho’s answer to Berkeley, California (just across the Bay from my childhood home). In a state that is unabashedly red to its rural core (just a dispassionate observation, folks — no offense intended), Boise’s North End color scheme runs from deep purple to navy blue. And while it may have fewer hipsters than Seattle, you can bet they’ll whip your butt on a mountain bike trail.

Among the other things the North End has going for it are it’s proximity to a great urban green space known as Camel’s Back Park (for its dromedary-like topography) and its network of foothills trails. Hyde Park, at Camel’s Back’s southern end, creates a town square vibe with restaurants, shops, and plenty of outdoor gathering spaces — all of which are currently observing some phase of pandemic precaution. Boise’s lively downtown core is within walking distance to North Enders, many of whom bike, and the neighborhood’s south end is bordered by a cherished food co-op that was established the same year as the one we’re blessed with here in Mount Vernon. Just to the east is an impressive ‘60s-era Federal Building and the remains of old Fort Boise, which today houses VA services with facades reminiscent of San Francisco’s Presidio.

I’ve spent a lot of time walking the North End. At one time I held a marketing gig at the Boise Co-op and took all my breaks and many a prelude to my return home walking and biking the streets of the North End. I think my most magic memories of the place are from autumns past. It gets dark a lot earlier, and that chill in the air is something you feel every morning as winter draws closer. But there are still plenty of kids riding their bikes and skateboards wearing sweaters and caps. I think of those late afternoons when the air is fragrant with wood smoke, decaying leaves of various hue, moss, and freshly dampened mulch.

And then there are the Halloween and Thanksgiving decorations. Boiseans as a whole decorate more elaborately for annual holidays than in any other place I’ve called home. No lie. They love to decorate — and they really love to decorate in the North End. Take your kid trick or treating in the North End, and you’ll give them the next best thing to an Orlando theme park vacation.

As you’ve by now figured out, I love Idaho. In fact, I’m not ashamed to admit — even as an avowed Christian — that I believe that when the moment comes for me to move on to my Great Reward, my spirit will briefly linger in Idaho’s Camus Prairie for one last farewell, perhaps in the woods above St. Gertrude’s Monastery. I also firmly believe that everyone should visit Idaho if they possibly can. And while there are so many recreational, scenic, and historic venues and activities that the Gem State offers, you can’t say you’ve experienced Idaho unless you’ve spent some time in its charmingly urban capital. A big part of that charm comes courtesy of the good folks in the North End, who have been keeping it real since the 1890s. If you truly want to understand Boise, the North End deserves a place near the top of your itinerary. Leave your car in the Co-op parking lot, take a leisurely stroll, and return for coffee and baked goods or something from the deli.

In the meantime, enjoy the photo tour, and as they say on the Idaho State flag, esto perpetua (let it forever be).