But this is Chico, too

Cities started out as pinpoints on a map. As they grew, they became dots, then spots. But as they increased in circumference, they lost their compact, concentric shape. They became ungainly, more like Rorschach blots — a crazy quilt of developed and open land.

By the early 21st century some cities, such as Chico, were trying to weave that rough patchwork into a seamless whole, filling in the blank spots. The idea sounds fine, or at least harmless. Why not have a city with clearly defined boundaries? Why keep leapfrogging out into the countryside when so much land is available closer to the center?

But rising land costs and new planning strategies are playing havoc with a prevailing expectation that is so strong it is seen almost as an entitlement. It goes like this: I live in a suburb. Don’t mess with it. Don’t build tall houses that are practically touching each other, don’t build apartments, don’t build stores, don’t build anything next to my short house on a large lot except another short house on a large lot.
This is strident stuff, but who can blame these suburbanites. They’ve worked hard to get where they are. They don’t want to wake up one morning, look over their fence and discover their cherished long-view landscape is gone.

The transition to higher densities would have been less traumatic if the spots on the map had simply become larger, spreading out in an ever-expanding circles. The mid-20th century low-density suburban ring would now be surrounded by an early 21st century higher-density “new urban” ring. Only the people at the edge of the lower-density belt would be discomfited. But because every neighborhood is laced with patches of open land, far more people face the prospect of living next to developments that look like fortresses.

The Sorrento project on East First Avenue is Chico’s most notorious example of a jarring juxtaposition of land uses. A small orchard that co-existed for decades with a subdivision of one-story, custom-built, ranch-style houses on large lots became a dense cluster of two-story Mediterranean-style houses with almost no yards. It brought big changes to the old neighborhood.

A couple of weeks ago, I received package of materials from Chris Persson about a proposed development called Tuscan Village in her north Chico neighborhood. She wrote that some of the neighbors have nicknamed it “Sorrento North.” The proposal calls for about 200 dwelling units — single-family with second dwelling units, townhouses and multifamily residential — on about 18 acres on the south side of Eaton Road between Morseman and Burnap avenues. A 1.5 acre lot at the southwest corner of Eaton and Burnap Avenue is proposed for commercial development at a future date.
Her neighborhood has single-family, single-story residences on large lots as well as large duplex lots. It has no commercial developments.

She said despite the large amount of information she sent me she wasn’t writing with an agenda specific to her neighborhood. She said the Tuscan Village proposal is an example of what’s happening all over Chico. “First there is a rezone (to high density, usually with commercial added, as required by the general plan), then developments go in matching or surpassing that higher density rezone and then, if neighbors are lucky, infrastructure improvements eventually happen (roads, etc.).”

I don’t dispute Persson’s motives for contacting me. Many Chicoans have or will experience her plight. The process she describes is pretty much a recital of how infill works. She said she feels there is little that “ordinary citizens can do to be a part of a larger vision.” I can sympathize with her. Because infill by definition is a fragmented process, it’s difficult to even conceive of it as part of a larger vision. If there is a vision, it’s to discard the idea that new projects should blend in with the existing neighborhood. It seems that in Chico, infill has automatically come to mean higher-density, mixed-use development.

It’s a sure-fire strategy for alienating and infuriating residents of established neighborhoods.