i first started going out to the desert, the Palm Springs area, after Maureen and i returned to the Southwest corner in 1985. We celebrated one of first anniversaries in Idyllwild, a mountain retreat, which is en route to the desert. To do both, one must go through Temecula, California.

It has also been a spot for golf outings since the late 1980’s. It was rumored the Mafia ran the place and had Robert Trent Jones design the course. Then, it was named Rancho California Golf Club. It was surrounded by scrub desert. Sometime in the 90s, the Southern California Golf Association turned it into The Members Club. It now goes by the moniker of The Golf Club at Rancho California.

Through those forty years or so, it has been a frequent spot for my golfing buddies and me. This year, it became the host club for the San Diego Telephone Company Golf Association tournament. i will write more about that super golf group later. But this post is about Temecula.

During those first years of golf stops and pass throughs, Temecula was not much more than a spot in the road, a small village in the desert. Leaning on Google’s Artificial Intelligence, i learned the name came from the Pechanga Band of the Luiseño tribe of native Americans, who have occupied the valley for more than 10,000 years. “Temecula” was the Spanish interpretation of the Luiseño Indian word “Temecunga.” In the Luiseño language, it is a combination of “temet” (sun) and “ngna” (place of) and means “where the sun breaks through the mist.” The term originated from the Luiseño legend of the beginning of the world in a place “where the world began and the sun and sand meet.”

The name is apropos for such a place. It was a stop for the Butterfield Stage line that delivered mail to the West Coast, specifically San Francisco. This was in the mid-1850s, and i’m guessing the “Southern Immigrant Route” through Temecula was chosen due to the travails of going north, which required crossing the Sierras.

Still the area relied upon water from the Santa Margarita River and its tributaries, a small amount indeed.

Back in the Spanish days, missionaries planted and harvested mission grapes in the 1800s. In 1968, Vincenzo and Audry Cilurz planted the first winery in the valley. Ely Callaway established the first commercial winery a bit east of “Old Town Temecula” in 1974. Soon offshoots and competitors created more and more wineries. It is now a big business and significant tourist attraction.

That small village of Temecula had several horse ranches and a bunch sod farms when i first transited there. But the interstate system placed I-15 running by the village as the wine business was beginning to expand. And then, and then, folks from Los Angeles and San Diego decided it was a good place to live with much lower home prices. The hour commute to San Diego and longer to LA did not deter them. The mega explosion of the small town into a metropolis is complete.

The Sunday evening trip was a pleasant drive. Then about a mile into Orange County with another eight miles to go, i hit traffic, three to four lanes of stop and go traffic that took an hour to cover. At the I-215 split from I-15, it was ten lanes one way of a crawling wall of cars.

The next morning, i awoke and walked to my car. Murrieta Hot Springs, the adjoining town to Temecula is no longer adjoining. Its strip malls of franchised everything were flanked by house upon house upon house. Hotels are flourishing. The golf course, once desert with double wides surrounding the 14th through 16th holes is now new homes, new homes, and the original double wides.

My ride home on Tuesday was grueling, i hit Temecula traffic, had a brief respite and then ran into the San Diego commute. The normal transit time of ninety minutes took nearly three hours.

Stunned is a pretty good description of how i feel about all of this. Temecula spends a majority of its days in 100-plus temperatures. It is dry. i find it difficult to believe there is enough water for such a large population…and it is still growing.

The Temecula explosion seems to be de rigueur for towns nowadays. They all seem to want growth, and boy, do they get it. Seattle, Austin, Nashville, Temecula. i recently read my home town of Lebanon is the 12th fastest growing city in the country. Traffic is awful. Cost of utilities rise astronomically, real estate taxes, will eventually rise to cover some infrastructure increases. And sometime, the governments, state and local, will need more money and taxes, if not income itself, will rise.

When i first came to the Southwest corner, it was the right size. i could drive to my ships from home quickly and easily. Going downtown was a pleasant experience. Dining at fine places was affordable. Access to everything was no problem. The people here made fun of that disaster to the north called LA, were glad the two cities were separated by Camp Pendleton.

Yet, the Southwest corner hunted for growth, and got it. The place is a mini-LA.

i gotta tell you, i prefer small places, places like Lebanon used to be: farms, woodlands, a small downtown where you could go easily and enjoy. Everyone knew everyone else. Children played and roamed the streets and fields with no supervision. i could go on, but i’m sure you get the picture.

Maybe it’s just my age. Things change. But it doesn’t seem to me to be any better, just different.

My rant is done. My amazement remains. Oh yes, my foursome won the first day and did well on the second.