“Velkommen til Solvang!” greeted the cheerful woman behind the counter at Birkholm’s Bakery & Cafe on a sunny Sunday morning. We had just driven up Highway 101 with our family, eager to indulge in a freshly baked Danish kringle.
The Santa Ynez Valley, located just a few hours north of Los Angeles, feels like a different world. As you venture further north, the aggressive honking and road rage give way to a sense of calm. You can feel the tension release, and your breathing begins to slow.
Between Woodland Hills and Ventura, the transition becomes palpable. The frenetic energy that once surrounded you melts away, transforming from a raging torrent to a gentle stream. By the time you reach Santa Barbara, the atmosphere is serene. As you descend the Santa Ynez Mountains, the concrete jungle you left behind is replaced by a picturesque landscape of vineyards.
Solvang, which translates to “sunny fields” in Danish, is a charming surprise. How did a small Danish village, with its pickled herring and red cabbage, come to thrive in a Californian coastal valley?
No doubt, these curiosities contribute to life’s unpredictable charm.
An Experience Less Ordinary
Historically, a struggling Danish economy in the late 19th century prompted about 10 percent of Danes to immigrate to the United States. While most settled in states like Minnesota, Iowa, South Dakota, Nebraska, and Illinois, a small group ventured west to form a colony with milder winters.
In 1911, the Danish-American Colony Company established Solvang, and a quaint community soon blossomed. Over the years, Solvang has managed to retain its unique Danish character, architecture, and culinary traditions. This delightful setting, accompanied by nearby vineyards and wineries, draws visitors and day-trippers seeking extraordinary experiences.
As we wandered down Copenhagen Street, we found ourselves amidst a bustling crowd of tourists. The local economy thrived, with shops brimming with customers and eateries overflowing. The delightful aromas of Danish chocolates and pastries wafted through the air.
At The Olde World Clocks and Music Boxes, we admired intricate cuckoo clocks meticulously hand-carved from Linden wood sourced from Germany’s Black Forest. We passed a line of eager patrons outside Paula’s Pancake House and even spotted a rugged biker examining an array of quartz crystals at a specialty shop.
Of course, he was heading for the Vintage Motorcycle Museum.
Our Trip to Sunny Fields
The sun was shining warmly, and the air was refreshingly crisp. Best of all, the burdensome influences of Washington and Sacramento felt distant in this valley haven.
No one seemed concerned about the Federal Reserve’s impact on currency value. The 7.5 percent sales tax didn’t seem to deter any purchases. Issues like the $1 trillion in student loan debt and a $211 trillion fiscal gap appeared to be forgotten here.
As we observed, few cared whether the DOW was about to decline or merely pausing before surging to 16,000. The latest financial buzz surrounding buying opportunities held little interest for the residents and visitors in this little slice of Denmark.
Additionally, nobody appeared troubled that yields on the 10-Year Treasury Note had risen above 2 percent. The price of gold, hovering under $1,400 per ounce, and the ongoing struggles of Japan’s Nikkei 225 didn’t seem to faze anyone.
While such financial developments may be important for investors—which we plan to monitor in the weeks and months ahead—they seemed irrelevant at that moment. Our adventure in Sunny Fields reminded us that sometimes, less information truly is more.
Sincerely,
MN Gordon
for Economic Prism
