Every so often, the idea comes up that Idyllwild should incorporate and become its own city.
I understand the appeal.
The argument usually sounds something like this: Idyllwild generates a lot of money through tourism, lodging, property taxes and local businesses. If we incorporated, more of that money could stay here instead of going to Riverside County. We would have more local control. Decisions affecting Idyllwild could be made by people who actually live here.
On the surface, all of that sounds pretty good.
But I have lived here for a very long time, and before we turn Idyllwild into a city, I think we should ask a much bigger question:
What problem are we actually trying to solve?
And then I want to see the math.
Because becoming a city does not simply mean keeping more money in Idyllwild. It also means keeping more responsibility here.
Idyllwild-Pine Cove had a population of 4,163 at the 2020 Census. We are a very small mountain community with a disproportionately large tourism economy, a limited commercial base, aging infrastructure, difficult terrain, wildfire exposure, snow, road issues and a population that changes dramatically depending on the season and the weekend.
That is a very different financial picture from simply saying, “Look at all the money Idyllwild generates.”
Yes, Idyllwild Generates Revenue
There is no question that tourism generates significant tax revenue here.
Riverside County currently collects a 10 percent Transient Occupancy Tax on stays in hotels, motels, bed-and-breakfasts and short-term rentals in unincorporated areas of the county. The tax is charged not only on the room rate, but also on mandatory charges such as cleaning and reservation fees.
Given the enormous number of vacation rentals, traditional lodging properties and visitors we have relative to our permanent population, it is reasonable to assume that Idyllwild contributes substantial TOT revenue.
That is probably one of the strongest arguments supporters of incorporation can make.
But there is an important piece missing from the statement that this money could simply “stay in Idyllwild.”
California does not allow a newly incorporated city to take revenues away from a county while leaving the county with the same expenses and responsibilities.
Incorporation has to go through the Local Agency Formation Commission, or LAFCO, and part of that process is determining whether the proposed city is financially viable and whether the transfer of revenue and services is financially workable.
In other words, there is no giant Idyllwild bank account sitting in Riverside waiting for us to bring it home.
If revenue comes home, responsibilities come with it.
Cities Cost Money
A city needs government.
That sounds obvious, but I think it gets lost in discussions about “local control.”
A City of Idyllwild would need some form of administration. It would need budgeting and accounting. Legal counsel. Elections. Public meetings. Records compliance. Municipal ordinances. Planning functions. Insurance. Contracts. Staff or consultants.
Some services could presumably continue to be provided by Riverside County or special districts under contracts, but those contracts would still have to be paid for.
And whatever functions the city took over would become our financial responsibility.
That means the meaningful question isn't:
How much money does Idyllwild generate?
It is:
How much money would a City of Idyllwild receive after all of the fiscal arrangements required for incorporation, and how much would it cost to run the city and provide the services residents expect?
Those are two very different questions.
Incorporating Isn't Free, Either
Even exploring incorporation costs money.
Riverside LAFCO charges substantial fees for jurisdictional changes, and those fees can increase if additional staff time, studies or outside work are required.
A serious incorporation effort also requires financial analysis. There are legal descriptions, mapping, fiscal studies, environmental review questions and an enormous amount of administrative work before voters ever get to decide whether they want a city.
So when someone says we should incorporate, one of my first questions is very practical:
Who is paying to find out whether we can afford to incorporate?
And after that:
Who pays to run the city once we've created it?
I have heard people say that our taxes would not necessarily increase, and technically that may be true. Incorporation itself does not magically create a new property tax bill.
But that does not make the financial question disappear.
If existing revenues were not enough to support the government and services residents wanted, something would have to give.
Services would have to be reduced, another source of revenue would have to be found, or voters and property owners could eventually be asked to approve additional taxes, fees or assessments.
Before I support creating a city government, I would like to know how likely that scenario is.
Not theoretically.
For Idyllwild.
Show Me Both Sides of the Ledger
If someone presents a serious proposal to incorporate Idyllwild, I want to see a complete financial picture.
How much property tax generated in the proposed city boundaries would actually flow to the new city?
How much sales tax?
How much TOT?
How much state revenue?
What other fees or revenues would exist?
What would Riverside County retain?
What financial arrangements would be required as part of the incorporation?
Which services would the city assume?
Which would remain with the county?
Which would be contracted back to the county or another agency?
How much would administration cost?
Planning?
Legal services?
Finance?
Elections?
Insurance?
Road maintenance?
Snow removal?
Code enforcement?
Emergency preparation?
And what happens during a bad year?
Idyllwild depends enormously on people coming here.
What happens after a wildfire?
A prolonged road closure?
A recession?
A tourism downturn?
A disaster that dramatically reduces local business activity for a year or two?
A city still has bills when visitors stop coming.
Before we create one, I would want to know whether the financial model works during the bad years, not just the good ones.
Local Control Sounds Good. But Control Is Still Control.
This is where my objection becomes less about numbers and much more personal.
I love Idyllwild.
Not the polished version of it.
The real one.
I love old cabins that lean a little and houses that have been added onto over generations.
I love strange parcels and impossible driveways.
I love tiny houses tucked between enormous trees.
I love roads that don't quite feel like roads.
I love old commercial buildings that would probably never be designed the same way today.
I love hand-painted signs, local characters, artists, musicians, odd little businesses and homes that don't look anything like the house next door.
I love that so much of Idyllwild feels as though it happened organically rather than being planned.
There is a looseness here.
An independence.
A little bit of disorder.
And I think some of that is precious.
I have spent more than two decades working in real estate here. I have been inside thousands of mountain homes. I have crawled through old houses, walked strange property lines and seen buildings that tell the history of this place better than any brochure ever could.
Idyllwild has never been particularly tidy.
I don't want it to be.
There is already plenty of regulation governing property, construction, land use, fire safety, short-term rentals and businesses. We are certainly not living without government.
But I am not convinced that adding another layer of local government automatically makes a place better.
More local control also means more people deciding what Idyllwild should look like.
More ordinances.
More rules.
More political battles.
More pressure to solve things through regulation.
And perhaps, eventually, more pressure to make Idyllwild look and behave like somebody's idea of what a mountain tourist town should be.
That worries me far more than whether every dollar collected here is spent here.
Part-Time Owners Have a Stake Here Too
Some of the people enthusiastic about incorporation are part-time residents.
They absolutely have a stake in this community. They own property here. They love Idyllwild. They contribute to the economy and care about its future.
But there is a perspective that comes from living and working here every day that is different from experiencing Idyllwild primarily as a retreat.
“More local control” can sound wonderful when you're imagining better services, more beautification, more enforcement or more say in what happens here.
But those of us who live here full time also have to live with every new ordinance, every regulatory decision, every fee, every budget shortfall and every unintended consequence.
We don't just visit the result.
We live inside it.
That doesn't mean one group should have a voice and another shouldn't.
It means we should be very careful about romanticizing incorporation.
Idyllwild Is Already Something Special
Perhaps incorporation would ultimately make financial and governmental sense.
I am open to seeing the numbers.
But I am not willing to assume that becoming a city is progress simply because cities have more local governmental control.
Sometimes not changing something is also a choice.
And sometimes what looks inefficient on paper is part of what makes a place wonderful in real life.
Idyllwild has survived for generations without becoming a city.
It grew into this peculiar, beautiful, sometimes frustrating mountain village through a mixture of private property, county government, special districts, local organizations, businesses, volunteers and an enormous amount of community involvement.
It isn't perfect.
Neither are cities.
So before we create a new government because more of “our money” might stay here, I want to know exactly how much money we're talking about.
I want to know what comes with it.
I want to know what it costs.
I want to know what problem incorporation solves that we cannot solve another way.
And perhaps most importantly, I want us to think very carefully about what we could lose.
Because the thing I would most hate to see governed out of existence is the very thing that made so many of us fall in love with this place.
The irregularity.
The independence.
The imperfection.
The freedom to be a little strange.
The trees that were here before us and will hopefully be here after us.
The old cabins.
The dirt.
The darkness.
The quiet.
The people who came here because they didn't particularly want to live somewhere polished and predictable.
There is still something wild about Idyllwild.
I'd like to keep it that way.
