South of the River
I moved to Austin from my home state Pennsylvania in August 1998--a noteworthy transition in my life, no doubt. However there was another transition--subtle, but nonetheless noteworthy--that would occur six months later. January 1999, I moved from my starter apartment near work to another apartment off of Barton Skyway. Barton Skyway is south of the Colorado River, a river which divides Austin into two halves. Not a lot of my coworkers lived in this area, but it was so close to all the parks and amenities downtown Austin had to offer. Why wouldn't more people live here? It was with that reasoning I took Mopac southbound and set up shop. For the past 15 years, I have called South Austin home. Little did I know at the time.
For the uninitiated, South Austin is a fraternity of sorts in contrast to its northern counterpart. The real estate is more affordable. The population is more financially, ethnically and culturally heterogenous. The restaurants are more unique. There are fewer (if any?) HOAs. There's more ranchland and mobile communities. It's typically further away from anything your coworkers are doing on a given weeknight. But many consider the soul of Austin to be in these parts, and any "southie" is usually quick with pride when describing where they live.
South Austin is further away from many high-tech jobs that caused the North Austin boom, and it's a little odd to be an engineer at one of those offices and live where I do in Oak Hill. But I'm not alone. Us southies at the office know each other, which is important for the occasional carpool.
One of the things that kept me in Oak Hill for so long was the running routes. The running in Oak Hill is really good. Not in a community aspect per se--certainly there are other fitness-minded folk in the neighborhood--but in a terrain aspect. Within a mile of my house I can get to properties with chickens and donkeys. Two miles gets me to a horse ranch and quiet country roads. All the roads are rolling hills, some with terrific views. In a city of expensive races and well-known training groups, these bucolic routes are a page out of the rural Pennsylvania routes where I discovered running (the southbound view from the top of Silvermine and the northbound view descending Mowinkle have uncanny resemblances to hometown vistas). As I write, I'm only now realizing that "The Y"--the intersection of 290 and 71 that defines Oak Hill--has a mirrored resemblance to the confluence of rivers that define downtown Pittsburgh. (How have I not noticed this all these years?) For the years I was cycling, Oak Hill got even better--a true gateway to the Hill Country with miles and miles of scenery accessible from my driveway.
As of next week, K and I are packing our boxes and moving closer to my office in North Austin, in preparation for our growing family. (Assuming all stays healthy: Baby Number Two due in October!) It's with a touch of sadness that my time in South Austin has come to a close. The emotions are a mixed bag: I am absolutely thrilled about our new house, and the past three months of work and real estate have left hardly any time to reflect. I think about the new home and picture my family in it all the time. All I want to do right now is work on the new house. I knew it would take a very exciting opportunity to pull me up from my roots, and we found it. I've been packing boxes with an excited smile over the past two months. But only if I could pack the donkeys, horses and people on my street along with us. Good neighbors all.
I spent nearly a third of my life at my Oak Hill address--the only address I spent longer at was my childhood home (only by three years, at that). But my heart is quite ready for this change. I know on the surface this transition isn't dramatic ("A Young Employed Family Moves Across Town" isn't exactly a movie title that would shatter box office records), but it's meaningful to me. While my family and I hope to call North Austin home for a good long time, I'll very much remain a southie at heart. Goodbye Oak Hill, and thanks for the memories.
(As for the moniker of this blog? The day when that becomes my biggest concern can't come soon enough!)
Update, August 2014: Everyone gets stung by the wasp of Murphy's Law now and then. Then there are those special times in your life when your foot gets stuck in the wasp's nest itself. After a barrage of unfortunate events during critical closing and moving dates (including but not limited to: newly formed mouseholes, off-track garage doors, the A/C dying in Oak Hill on our last night, rainwater soaking our new carpet on our first night, no hot water, a plugged sink at foundation level, a 50-lb falling gate, some good finger lacerations and plenty of restless nights), there is some sense of settling. The oddest sensation is that my life in Oak Hill feels as distant as high school or college. However, this house is very rapidly feeling like home. (The Home Depot Arbor Walk is also rapidly feeling like home, for better or worse.) The fact that "Great Hills" and "Oak Hill" share a common geographical trait doesn't hurt, either.
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