Felton is the community that exists in the shadows—literally, under a canopy of ancient redwoods—and figuratively, between its more famous neighbors. It's not quite as remote as Boulder Creek, not quite as developed as Scotts Valley, and definitely not as "Santa Cruz" as Santa Cruz.

It's the middle child of the San Lorenzo Valley, and like all middle children, it's developed a very specific personality as a result.

The Geography of In-Between

Here's what makes Felton uniquely complicated and popular: It's close enough to "civilization" to feel accessible, but far enough away to feel like an escape. It's this geographic sweet spot that either becomes your favorite thing about living here or the source of constant frustration.

To San Jose: 35-45 minutes (without traffic—with traffic, add an hour to your life and subtract it from your sanity) To Santa Cruz: 15-20 minutes (which sounds great until you're making that drive multiple times daily) To Anywhere Else: Prepare yourself emotionally

I had a client once describe Felton as "strategically inconvenient," and I've never found better words.

What Actually Exists in Felton

Let me manage your expectations right now:

• Limited grocery stores (Wild Roots Market—organic, expensive, and Safeway)
• A handful of restaurants (some excellent, all local, none open past 11 PM)
• The Felton Covered Bridge (Instagram-famous, charmingly historic, though sometimes homeless sleep here)
• Roaring Camp Railroads (tourists love it, locals avoid it on weekends)
• Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park (your new backyard)
• A post office where everyone knows everyone's business
• Exactly zero chains (and residents intend to keep it that way)

That's it. That's the list.

If you need a Target, a Costco, or any retailer that exists in the modern world, you're driving. Get comfortable with driving.

The Felton Paradox

Here's what's wild about this community: It attracts two completely opposite types of people, and somehow they coexist.

Type 1: The True Believers These are folks who moved here in the '70s and never left. They've got stories about when Felton was REALLY rural. They compost everything. They know which trees fell in which storm. They have Opinions about development (all negative). They're suspicious of anyone who's lived here less than 20 years.

Type 2: The Tech Refugees
Remote workers who discovered they could afford a house with land here versus a condo in San Jose. They're upgrading the internet infrastructure just by existing. They're annoyed about the septic situation. They've lived here for three years and still aren't sure if they're "locals."

Both groups shop at the same Wild Roots. Both groups hike the same trails. Both groups complain about Highway 9 traffic. And somehow, it works.

The Real Estate Reality Check

Let's talk about what you're actually getting for your money in Felton:

The Good:

• More land than you'd get anywhere closer to the coast
• Mountain biking & hiking trails practically out your doorstep
• A neighborhood vibe that actually exists (unlike some mountain areas)
• Decent internet (by mountain standards)
• School options (San Lorenzo Valley schools are solid)

The Challenging:

• Old. Houses. Are. Old. (And not always in the charming way)
• Septic systems (still a thing, always will be)
• Steep slopes on many properties (this varies wildly)
• The fire insurance situation (it's getting better, but it's still A Situation)
• Deferred maintenance (because previous owners also couldn't afford contractors who'd drive to Felton)

The Uncomfortable:

• You're still in a fire zone (CZU was here too)
• Some properties have rebuilding restrictions
• Resale can be challenging (your buyer pool is specific)
• Some roads aren't maintained by the county (yes, really)

Questions I Wish Buyers Would Ask

Instead of "What's the square footage?" I wish more people asked:

1. "How many times has Highway 9 flooded/closed/had a major accident this year?" Because your charming mountain town becomes an island when this happens, and it happens more than you think.
2. "What's the community plan for the next wildfire?" It's not "if," it's "when." Everyone who lives here knows someone who lost something in CZU. The question is: Can you handle that reality?
3. "What does winter actually look like here?" Those redwoods block A LOT of light. Your cute cottage might feel like a cave from November to February. Some people love it. Others develop seasonal affective disorder.

What Nobody Tells You

The secret about Felton is that it requires a specific kind of surrender.

You surrender the convenience of city life. The variety. The anonymity. The assumption that services will come to you.

In exchange, you get... what, exactly?

You get to know your neighbors. Not in the "wave from the driveway" way, but in the "they'll check on you during power outages and help you clear fallen trees" way.

You get to live somewhere that forces you to slow down. Because you literally can't rush on these winding roads, and metaphorically, the whole place operates on a different timeline.

You get to be part of a community that's fighting to stay itself in the face of everything trying to change it.

The Part That Surprised Me

I've sold homes in Felton to tech executives, teachers, artists, retirees, and young families. The ones who stay—the ones who really make it work—aren't the ones who had the biggest budgets or the most mountain experience.

They're the ones who showed up with realistic expectations and fell in love with the reality, not the Instagram version.

The client who bought the modest cabin on a half-acre? She's been there seven years and just bought the adjacent lot.

The couple who insisted on the million-dollar view property? Listed it within 18 months. Turns out, views don't compensate for isolation when you're not actually prepared for isolation.

So Should You Move to Felton?

I can't answer that for you. But I can tell you this:

If you're looking for Felton to be your escape from reality, you'll be disappointed. But if you're looking for Felton to become your new reality—quirks, covered bridge traffic, questionable cell service and all—you might have just found your place.

Come visit on a random Tuesday. Not during summer when tourists make it feel livelier than it is. Not during the holidays when it's all twinkly lights and charm.

Come on a regular, unremarkable Tuesday. Drive through town. Sit at the Grove with a coffee. Walk along the shops downtown when nobody else is there. Ask yourself if you could build a life in this in-between place.

And if you find yourself thinking "yes," even knowing everything I just told you?

Then let's talk.

Because Felton doesn't need more people who think they want to live here.

It needs people who understand what living here actually means.

This made me question... Do we choose the places we live, or do they choose us?