I've lived in North Idaho for 34 years, and somewhere along the way I stopped seeing it. The quiet. The space. The fact that you can leave your truck unlocked in the driveway and it's still there in the morning with all your stuff in it. It just turns into the wallpaper of your life.

Then I spent a week in New York City. I loved it, for the record, incredible food, incredible energy, genuinely one of the best weeks I've had in years. But the whole time there was this little quiet voice in the back of my head going, buddy, you have no idea how good you've got it back home.

Here's what a week away does: it doesn't make you hate where you went. It hands you a mirror. And when I got home, I saw exactly what we've built here and exactly what we stand to lose if we all fall asleep at the wheel.

This isn't a big city bad rant. It's what a week in the most expensive, most crowded, most relentless city in America taught me about the space, the safety, and the community we've got in North Idaho, and why moving here is worth a serious look if you're craving room to breathe.

Table of Contents

• North Idaho: Space, Safety, and the Freedom to Choose Your Lifestyle
• The Cost of Living Reality: What $4 Water Taught Me About Perspective
• Why You Can't Buy Your Way Out of New York
• The Charm and Challenge of Anonymity vs. Community
• Safety, Self-Defense, and Raising Kids Without Fear
• Which Lifestyle Is Right for You: Big City Energy or Small Town Freedom
• Conclusion

North Idaho: Space, Safety, and the Freedom to Choose Your Lifestyle

I flew home to Spokane, drove through, got to my own house, my own bed, my own backyard. I woke up and went for a hike where I didn't have to share the trail with 10,000 people. I walked into a local spot where they know me. I spent the whole drive home just appreciating it.

Yeah, we've had quite a bit of growth here. But what's important is to see how much is still preserved and how much we've still got. That's the thing you either protect or you watch slowly turn into the exact thing people are leaving.

Here's what I realized standing in the middle of all that concrete: New York is basically a monument to man's stubbornness. The refusal to let nature win. Miles and miles of steel and pavement as far as you can see. It's genuinely impressive, but it's also a little bit terrifying because once you pave it all over, once every inch is built on and buried and developed, it doesn't come back. Nature doesn't get a second chance at that land. Once it's gone, it's gone.

We are surrounded by country that hasn't been paved over yet. That's not a given. That's not permanent. And after a week in a concrete canyon, I felt the weight of that open space back home in a way I hadn't in years.

What North Idaho Offers That You Can't Buy in a Big City

In New York, you cannot buy your way out. There is no amount of money that gets you a quiet moment to yourself. It doesn't exist. My wife and I paid over $400 for a couple's massage at a nice sauna and bathhouse spot, specifically to get away from people. By the time we walked out, there were well over 100 people in that place. We paid $400 to escape the crowd, and New York still found a way to hand us one in bathrobes.

Back here, if I want to get away from every human being on the planet, that's a 15 to 20-minute drive. That's it. I can be standing somewhere where the loudest thing I hear is the wind, and it's free. I've completely taken that for granted. I've caught myself getting annoyed about having to park a little farther out at Costco. Meanwhile, in New York, you don't complain about a bad parking spot because you're lucky to even find a parking spot. That's why nobody drives. The whole city runs on subways and cabs because the idea of just hopping in your truck and going somewhere is a fantasy.

Safety and the Freedom to Let Your Guard Down

I was on the subway and there was a woman sitting by herself. There was a guy who clearly was not well, he was struggling with something and moving around the car right next to her. You could just see it on her face. That discomfort. That quiet calculation of please don't let today be the day. She had no real way to protect herself if it went sideways. She was just hoping that the odds were with her that day.

I'm not going to turn this into a big political thing. I'll just tell you what I felt. I felt grateful that back home the right to defend yourself is protected. Nobody here has to just sit and hope the odds are in their favor. You can decide for yourself which one of those two worlds you'd rather live in, and I already know the answer for me.

It hit me again watching people raise kids there. Pushing strollers, walking dogs, doing their best in that environment. Hats off to them, that is not easy. But I looked at my wife and I just could not picture us doing that after raising kids up here where you can let them out to play past dark and not think twice. I wouldn't trade that for every convenience a big city has to offer. It's not even close. The ability to not be afraid and not have to teach your kids to be afraid, that's worth more than anything I saw in a week out there.

The Choice to Be in Town or Completely Alone

Here's the best part about North Idaho: you get to choose. You want to be right in town around people? You can. You want to be out where your nearest neighbor is a field away? You can do that too and still drive to work without losing an hour of your life each way.

In New York, you don't really get that choice. You're in the city with everybody, or you're way out and paying for it in time and money every single day. Here, the choice is yours, and I think that's worth a lot.

The Cost of Living Reality: What $4 Water Taught Me About Perspective

Let's talk about money. A bottle of water in New York: $4. And it's not like there are drinking fountains everywhere, I looked, you can be sure of that. So you're basically forced to buy water all day long at $4 a pop in the richest city in the country. I have never been so aware of my own hydration in my entire life.

It wasn't just the water. It was everything everywhere. Didn't matter if we were in SoHo, Times Square, Brooklyn, or Greenwich Village. You sit down anywhere and almost every plate that isn't pizza is over $20. A decent breakfast, call it $30 by the time you're done. Coffee that's $4 back home is $6 in Manhattan.

The one saving grace is pizza. You can still get a slice for $3, $4, $5, and it's incredible. So if you ever move to New York and you're on a budget, your diet is now pizza. That's it. That's the whole meal plan.

Here's the thing: none of this is a scam. Nobody's ripping you off. This is just what New York costs. On the national scale, where the average American city sits at 100, New York City as a whole runs about 75 to 80% higher. In the part of Manhattan we were staying, more like double the national average. So when a bottle of water is $4, that's not a ripoff. That's just the price of standing where you're standing.

How North Idaho Compares

I flew home, sat down at a spot back here, ordered a normal breakfast, and it felt like a steal. And it wasn't. Prices back home have climbed plenty. I'm not going to sit here and lie to you and tell you the Northwest is cheap because it's not. It's just not New York.

It's the Disneyland effect. You spend a week paying $30 for eggs and suddenly everything back home looks reasonable by comparison. Perspective is a hell of a drug. The cost of living in North Idaho is significantly lower than major metros, but you're still going to see price increases. The difference is you're not paying double the national average just to exist.

Why You Can't Buy Your Way Out of New York

Here's something you don't understand about New York until you're actually standing in it. On a map, it's not that big. It looks pretty small. But New York doesn't grow out, it grows up and it grows down. There are buildings going 100 stories into the sky, and there are trains and tunnels and whole worlds buried underneath the streets. It's stacked layer on layer on layer of people and business and noise in every direction, including the ones you can't see.

Geographically, it is tiny. But it is the biggest place I've ever been. And no matter where you go, there are people. Millions and millions of people. You are never alone. And I mean never.

The smell hit me first. Literally the first thing right to the face. You walk half a block and it's incredible, some restaurant or food cart pumping out something that smells amazing. You walk the other half block and it smells like hot garbage. Real, literal steaming garbage in a pile on the sidewalk in front of a building where an apartment probably costs more than my mortgage times three.

That was the part that got me. This is SoHo. This is one of the most expensive zip codes in the entire country. People are paying $5,000, $6,000 for a one-bedroom to live stacked on top of a mountain of trash bags cooking in the afternoon sun. And I kept thinking, you can spend all the money in the world, but if you're stepping over garbage to get to your $5,000 apartment, what exactly are you buying? Turns out you can't outearn the smell.

The Charm and Challenge of Anonymity vs. Community

There's a charm to being in a place that big. You walk around and nobody knows you. Nobody's watching you. You just kind of dissolve into the crowd. For a few days, that's actually a cool feeling, being anonymous, especially for me being up here where a lot of people have seen me on the internet.

But by about day four, I caught myself missing something I didn't even know I valued. I missed walking into a place and having somebody know my name, know my order. That little nod from the guy behind the counter. In New York, I kept thinking, how does anybody ever actually make a real connection here? There are so many people that it almost seems impossible.

Obviously people do it. You build your pockets, your neighborhood, your regulars. But man, from the outside looking in, it looks really hard.

The People Were Actually Nice

Here's the part that genuinely surprised me, and I want to be fair because it would be really easy to dunk on New York City, but I'm not going to do that. The people were actually nice. They were really nice. Way nicer than I expected. People held doors. When I held a door, they actually said thank you. I sat down next to a total stranger at a restaurant, asked them what they ordered and if it was any good, and the conversation didn't feel guarded at all. He was happy to share with me what he got and how good it was. It felt like people were genuinely glad to share a moment with somebody, and that actually really caught me off guard.

So here's the truth, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. It's not that people in New York are cold and people back home are warm. That's a lie people tell themselves to feel good about where they live. The difference is that Idaho makes it easy. Fewer people, more room, less friction. Decency just comes more natural when you're not fighting for every square foot. New York makes being good hard, and people are still good anyway. That actually gave me a lot of respect for that place.

The Value of Shared Community

Standing there hearing five different languages on the subway car, you've got people from every country, every background, every belief you can imagine, all packed together, all just trying to live their lives. And for the most part, it works. That's a genuinely beautiful thing to witness.

But it also made me appreciate something about home that's harder to put into words. There's a real value in community. There's a value in being around people who mostly agree on what makes a place worth living in. What's good, what's not, what's worth protecting. That's not better or worse, it's just a different thing. And it's a thing I didn't know I'd miss until I was standing somewhere I didn't have it.

Safety, Self-Defense, and Raising Kids Without Fear

I already touched on the subway moment that stuck with me, but it's worth repeating because it crystallized something I'd been feeling the whole trip. That woman on the train, sitting there hoping the odds were in her favor, that's not a way to live. Not when you have another option.

Back home, the right to defend yourself is protected. You don't have to just sit and hope. You can decide for yourself how you want to handle your own safety, and that matters. I'm not telling you what to do with that information. I'm just telling you what I felt standing in that subway car.

And watching people raise kids in that environment, pushing strollers through crowds, navigating streets where you're never more than a few feet from a stranger, it hit me how different that is from what we've got here. Up here, you can let your kids out to play past dark and not think twice. You're not teaching them to be afraid. You're teaching them to be aware, sure, but not afraid. That's a gift, and it's one I didn't fully appreciate until I saw the alternative up close.

Which Lifestyle Is Right for You: Big City Energy or Small Town Freedom

Look, New York is the greatest city on earth. I'm glad I got to see it. I'm gladder I got to come home while there's still a home worth coming home to.

If you're the kind of person who thrives on energy, diversity, and the constant hum of millions of people living on top of each other, New York (or any major metro) might be your place. There's a beauty to that density, to the anonymity, to the sheer scale of what humans can build when they refuse to let nature win.

But if you're craving space, real space, not just a bigger apartment, if you want the freedom to choose proximity to town or complete isolation with a short commute, if you want to raise kids somewhere they can play outside without you holding your breath, if you want to walk into a local spot and have people know your name, then North Idaho is worth a serious look.

Choose North Idaho if:

• You want affordable living compared to major metros (still not cheap, but not double the national average).
• You value the ability to be in complete solitude within a 15 to 20-minute drive.
• You want the option to live in town or rural without sacrificing access to amenities.
• You prioritize safety, low crime, and the ability to let your guard down.
• You want abundant undeveloped natural areas and protected open space.
• You value community connections and familiar faces.
• You want the right to self-defense without restriction.
• You want easy parking, low density, and quiet when you need it.

Choose a major metro if:

• You thrive on constant energy and the hum of millions of people.
• You value anonymity and the ability to dissolve into a crowd.
• You want access to world-class food, culture, and diversity on every block.
• You're willing to trade space, quiet, and affordability for proximity to everything.

Neither choice is wrong. They're just different. And after 34 years here and one week there, I know which one I'm protecting.

Conclusion

I spent a week in New York City and loved it. Incredible food, incredible energy, genuinely one of the best weeks I've had in years. But the whole time, that little quiet voice in the back of my head kept reminding me how good I've got it back home.

The quiet. The space. The safety. The ability to choose proximity or isolation with a short drive. The freedom to let your kids play outside past dark. The local spots where people know your name. The open land that hasn't been paved over yet. The right to defend yourself. The community that mostly agrees on what makes a place worth living in.

That's what a week away taught me. It didn't make me hate New York. It handed me a mirror. And when I got home, I saw exactly what we've built here and exactly what we stand to lose if we all fall asleep at the wheel.

If this hits home for you and you're thinking about building your life somewhere with a little more room to breathe, reach out. Call or send me an email and schedule a time to talk with me or my team. We can help figure out where in North Idaho is going to be the best fit for you. We help people relocate here every single week, and we make the process smooth, honest, and stress-free.