Part 2: We Knew Where We Were Going, Until We Got There
Realizing Oklahoma wasn't working for us, this blog is about the continued journey of finding a place to call home.
In my last post, I explained our reasoning for not settling in Oklahoma on my sister's property. There were simply too many issues, none of them having to do with my sister. Instead, they involved the state itself, the weather, the location, and proximity to a major airport—all factors that would affect our future plans.
If you'd like more background, I invite you to read the blog post, "We Thought We Knew Where We Were Going, Until We Got There," which explains our thought process and why we changed our minds about living in Oklahoma.
This was a very difficult decision. It involved promises I made and the realization that I could not keep them, especially when a family member was involved. She was looking forward to us joining her in Oklahoma, but we had made those promises based on assumptions that ultimately proved untrue.
We thought housing would live up to the standards we had grown accustomed to.
We thought there would be more resources and larger-city amenities nearby.
We knew the area's weather and flora would offer a different kind of variety, but it turned out to be much more extreme than we anticipated.
Overall, we knew there would be changes, but not the kind that would make us question our decision on an hourly basis.
We were faced with the only choice that made sense: keep looking for a place to call home.
Our next state to explore was Nevada. With two towns that seemed like excellent possibilities—Pahrump and Tonopah—we were determined to thoroughly investigate them as potential places to live.
As we left Arizona and entered Nevada, we crossed the impressive Hoover Dam, a man-made marvel that showcases human engineering at its finest. We stopped in Henderson, outside Las Vegas, which has grown into a substantial city of its own. I often think of places like this as "Anytown, USA," just with different scenery and weather. Most modern towns seem to share the same wide roads (often called "stroads"), shopping centers, chain restaurants, city parks, and modest recreational opportunities.
Still, Henderson was simply a stop along the way. Our real destination was Pahrump.
From what we had heard, Pahrump was the rural sister of Las Vegas. Many retirees live there, along with a handful of casinos, golf courses, and RV parks.
We visited a real estate office and met a very enthusiastic agent. She was young, kind, and full of affection for Pahrump, describing it as a place where she had found a fresh start. As we drove through neighborhoods and explored the community, however, we gradually realized that this sleepy desert town wasn't what we were looking for.
"What were we looking for?" was a question we asked ourselves almost daily, often ending with the answer, "I'm not sure."
The next day, we headed to Tonopah, Nevada.
We have always enjoyed visiting Tonopah, a town rich in mining history and filled with reminders of its past. There is a sincere effort to revitalize the downtown area—although "town center" might be a more accurate description. Historic hotels and old buildings give the community a unique personality, and its location makes it a natural stopping point for travelers crossing Nevada.
But visiting a town and living in a town are two very different things.
As we explored Tonopah, we tried to imagine what daily life would be like. Some aspects appealed to us. Others raised questions. One experience, in particular, left a lasting impression.
A community event was taking place during our visit. We watched residents gather, greet one another, and enjoy an evening together. Naturally, we became curious about local activities and organizations. We hoped to learn more about how newcomers might become involved in the community.
Whether intentional or not, we found it difficult to make those connections. Perhaps we simply happened to visit at the wrong time. Regardless, we left with the feeling that Tonopah was a place where long-established relationships mattered deeply. There is nothing wrong with that, but it made us wonder how easily newcomers would find their place.
Fairly or unfairly, we decided Tonopah wasn't the right fit and continued on to Mesquite.
Nixing Tonopah was difficult because, when we were there as visitors, or tourists, we fantasized about opening a small shop, bookstore, cat café, or some other sleepy but welcoming business for travelers and residents alike. We thought it would be a wonderful place to retire "someday."
But it is not today, nor in the distant future.
That was a disappointing conclusion.
Recovering from an emotional freefall, we headed to Mesquite, Nevada—the one-restaurant town from my childhood memories.
Mesquite, Nevada, was a one-restaurant town when I first passed through it in the early 1970s. I only remember stopping there once to eat, but I vividly remember a horse statue in the gift shop with a Native American rider sitting bareback. I begged my mother to buy it for me.
Funny enough, I still have it to this day.
William had never been to Mesquite, and I was eager to show him the town while sharing a few childhood memories along the way.
It has obviously grown since those early days. A population of retired golf enthusiasts helped transform it into a retreat from Las Vegas. Casinos arrived, and a nearby river provides a beautiful contrast between desert landscapes and lush greenery.
We spent time exploring the town and imagining what life there might be like.
Another "a bit too sleepy" town for us, and neither of us had much interest in golf. In the end, we decided that Mesquite wasn't the right fit either. Instead, we revisited a town we had casually passed through earlier in our travels but had never seriously considered as a place to live.
My first experience with Laughlin, Nevada, was many years before I met William. I was under twenty-one, but no one seemed concerned about me standing around watching family members play the slot machines. Each had their own little ritual, chant, or prayer for a big payout.
It never happened.
It never does.
Even so, the long ago memories stayed with me.
Reviewing our journey, we knew Nevada would work best for us. The challenge was finding a community that balanced convenience, affordability, recreation, entertainment, and natural beauty. We wanted beautiful scenery, mountains, and no tornadoes. Close to an airport, but somewhere neighbors still waved a friendly smile.
And now we were looking at Laughlin through a very different lens, and we really liked what we saw.
We found beautiful desert mountain scenery, the Colorado River, entertainment, and the energy of visitors enjoying the water. The area offered access to larger-city conveniences while maintaining a slower pace that felt comfortable rather than isolated.
It was close enough to Las Vegas and its airport while still feeling like a community of its own. Across the river, additional stores and services were easy to access, yet the area retained a small-town atmosphere.
The twenty-year-old me would never, in a million years, have imagined that Laughlin might be the right place for the retired me.
After months of searching, comparing, and reconsidering our assumptions, we finally found ourselves imagining a future rather than planning another move.
It may not be a perfect fit, but it feels right.
My sister supports our move, and we are in closer contact with friends and family that we left on the West Coast so many months ago.
And Angelina Jolie lives in Laughlin too... so it has to be nice!
Lessons Learned and Moving Forward
A place can look perfect on paper and still not feel like home. Research is important, but spending time in a community reveals things that statistics and photos cannot.
It's okay to change your mind when new information becomes available. Sticking to a plan simply because you made it is rarely a good reason to follow through.
Knowing what you don't want is often the first step toward discovering what you do want. Every town we crossed off our list brought us closer to understanding what mattered most.
The right place isn't necessarily perfect. Sometimes it simply offers the best balance of the things that matter to you at this stage of life.
Part 2: We Knew Where We Were Going,
Until We Got There
But visiting a town, and living in a town are two very different things
"What were we looking for?" was a question we asked ourselves almost daily, often ending with the answer, "I'm not sure."
The "20 year old me" would never, in a million years, have imagined that Laughlin might be the right place for the "retired me"
