My Hometown

Geyserville, California. Population 1050 if you believe the signs on either side of town. At least that was the listed population when I was growing up there in the 1970's and 80's. I always wondered where they came up with that number and how far outside of the main part of town one had to travel to find 1050 people because there never seemed to be that many people around.

There were 65 students attending Geyserville High School during 1983-84, my senior year. This was more than usual because we had a big senior class; 19 people. Most other years the high school's enrollment hovered around 55.

There were no stop lights in town. No grocery store, unless you count Geyserville Market, but nobody did their real grocery shopping there. The market was there only for beer, soda, candy and anything you might need in a pinch and didn't feel like driving the seven miles to Healdsburg to get. There was a diner slash bar, Mickey's, in the center of town where Highway 128 and old Highway 101 came together. Locals would gather at Mickey's in the morning for breakfast and cups of coffee and the same locals would gather there at night for conversation and bottles of beer.

About a mile east of the main part of town, the Russian River made its way through this part of northern Sonoma County. Slow moving in most parts with a few shallow rapids it was the cooling off spot for the people in the surrounding area. Most people in Geyserville didn't have pools, so the river became the go to spot on hot summer days.

Surrounding the river on all sides and stretching as far as the eye could see in many places was the thing that gave Geyserville an identity; grapes. Acres and acres of vineyards of some of the finest grapes grown in the world. And with vineyards came wineries. Meccas for weekend yuppies from the city who had come over the hill from too-crowded Napa Valley and discovered that Sonoma County had something to offer without all the people and stuffiness. (I'm not sounding too biased, am I?)

Past the grapes, five miles to the east stood Geyser Peak. The constant sentinel overlooking my hometown where one could occasionally see plumes of steam rising into the air; the geysers that were the inspiration for the name of the town in the center of my small world growing up.

My First Post

I never thought I would keep an online journal such as this, but lately I have had many random thoughts running through my head and have felt a need to write them down. I'm not even sure if this will become a habit or not, but I'm going to try and find out. I titled my blog Growing Up Small because I grew up in a small town in the wine country of Northern California. Many of the thoughts I've had lately have centered around the unique experience of growing up in a community of less than a 1000 people. Yes, small towns in California is not an oxymoron; they do exist.

My hope is that I can capture the feel of what it was like to live, grow up, and be educated in such a place. That's not to say that I won't at times stray into thoughts about other things, but for now, this is my focus.