The Rhythm Before the Road

THIS WEEK IN RENO

Colder mornings have arrived in the high desert. Light frost edges the grass, and errands begin in layers that come off by early afternoon. Downtown, the city marked Veterans Day with its annual parade along Virginia Street, where flags moved through the cold air and the crowd gathered to honor those who have served.

Saturday night we returned to Reno Public Market, tracing a familiar weekend rhythm of food stalls, a shared communal space, and live music. Kimmi Bitter & The Westside Twang, touring from San Diego, brought a blend of golden-era countrypolitan with desert twang and layers of surf rock. Her 2024 debut album, Old School, went on to win Best Country or Americana Album at the San Diego Music Awards, and her single “Cowboy Kind of Girl” earned Song of the Year. She also previewed new material, including “Don’t Talk to Strangers,” a track that could have scored a Tarantino film. It was a strong performance overall; while steel guitarist Willis Farnsworth occasionally pushed the mix too far, the group’s energy carried the night and left the crowd swaying.

Today we’re setting out on a four-day California road trip along Highway 1 to celebrate Stephanie’s birthday. It feels like the right way to close this local chapter, one more drive through both familiar and new landscapes, moving slowly, noticing details, and soaking in the region’s beauty before we head to Texas next month.

How We Designed a Route That Supports the Lifestyle We Want

People often assume a 26-month plan starts with dream destinations. Ours started with how we wanted to live.

We built from quality of life outward: a healthy, active rhythm that we could sustain over time. From there we layered other variables: weather patterns, daylight hours, visa rules, cost of living, access to food and fitness, walkability, safety, and remote-work infrastructure. Only then did we map specific cities.

Climate is a stabilizer, not the goal. We use it to protect our sleep, outdoor habits, and creative cycles. The result is an itinerary shaped by good light and livable conditions rather than tourist calendars.

Here’s our current two-year travel plan (subject to change):

This design keeps us in livable climates, outside peak crowds, and in environments that align with how we function best: immersing in local culture, cooking fresh food, exercising daily, working with focus, and spending time outdoors. The map came last. The life came first.

Reno’s Quiet Creative Economy

The “Biggest Little City” sign still lights the downtown sky, but the center of gravity has shifted. Casinos along Virginia Street still thrive, but feel like an earlier chapter. The pulse is elsewhere: patios on the Truckee River, neighborhood festivals, and a thriving Midtown that favors independent businesses, galleries, and everyday gathering spaces.

Reno Public Market embodies that shift. Inside a warehouse, food stalls, bars, coffee counters, and maker spaces reflect the city’s evolving mix. On Saturday we watched families, students, and retirees share the space comfortably. The scene felt accessible rather than staged.

Reno isn’t as inexpensive as it once was, but creative energy still circulates in reachable ways. Projects start small, take shape in shared spaces or co-ops, and grow through community over capital. That accessibility gives the city’s culture its pulse and keeps it personal and within reach.

That balance between aspiration and ease, between professionalism and accessibility, defines what works about Reno right now. It feels like a city in transition, still holding on to its experimental spirit even as growth and development reshape its edges.

Reno Public Market (RPM)

We ordered a loaded pupusa from Los Cipotes, a spicy chicken tikka from Art of Spice, and a glass of wine from the Honey Bar, then found a table to watch the crowd and the band. Music filled the hall, and the mix of food stalls and conversation gave the place an easy rhythm. Reno Public Market shows what the city does best: a casual, communal energy where people of all ages share the same space without pretense.

Reno, NV

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California’s Central Coast & Finding Joy in the In-Between

Next week we’ll share the story of Stephanie’s birthday road trip along California’s Central Coast, a celebration shaped by transition. We’ll explore what it means to mark milestones during seasons of change, how to find joy in times of preparation, and why creating ritual during logistical shifts can matter more than expected.

We’ll also begin looking ahead to Thanksgiving and reflect on what it means to honor American traditions while preparing to live abroad for a few years.

Until then, we’re driving south on Highway 1 for a few days of celebration and stillness.

We’re publishing this just before leaving for California. The car is packed with hiking gear, layered clothing for coastal wind, and the camera equipment we’ll need for Big Sur. The route traces four days through wine country, national parks, and coastal towns.

Stephanie’s birthday falls on Friday. We’ll start the morning working from a coffee shop in San Luis Obispo, then hike the bluffs at Montaña de Oro before dinner at Ember in Arroyo Grande, a wood-fired restaurant known for its Central Coast produce and open-grill cooking. It feels like what we’re learning to value: a day that moves between work and landscape, ending with good food and company in some great place.

What stands out right now is a quiet awareness of the small rituals that come with change: the trip to the gym, our weekend grocery run, another load of laundry in the same washer. Familiar motions that linger as the drawers and cabinets begin to empty.

These Nevada months have taught us another thing about preparation: not simply the logistical kind (though there’s been plenty of that), but the emotional kind. The practice of letting go gently rather than dramatically. Of marking endings without performance.

The road trip ahead is another kind of rehearsal. Four days of bringing what we need, making choices about what to experience. A quiet practice for the rhythm we’ll carry forward.

Thank you for following these dispatches from the stretch between Nevada and what’s next, and for understanding that preparation, too, is part of the story.

Until next week,
S&S

Some Great Place
Living local in a global world