Grey Areas and Green Dreams: Appealing to the Planning Commission

After the unanimous City Council vote to vacate John Way, we felt like we could finally breathe. For the first time, we had a true, unified site—free from the road that once split our project in half. It was a huge win.

But as we quickly learned: with land use, one hurdle simply leads to the next.

With our parcel now intact, we moved forward with designing the heart of Treasure Bay—a family-friendly resort experience anchored by an 18-hole putting course. Not a traditional golf course with drivers and sand traps, but a modern twist: a low-impact, walkable course designed to bring people together through play. It was fun. It was community-focused. It was exactly the kind of thing Bruce would have loved.

There was just one problem: according to our zoning, we weren’t sure if it was allowed.

Our property sits in Waldport’s Downtown District, a zoning designation that supports walkable mixed-use development, small-scale lodging, and commercial activity. The code specifically allows for resorts. It also outlines where things like traditional golf courses are or are not allowed in other zones.

But in our zone? There was no mention of golf courses at all.

Not “yes.” Not “no.” Just… nothing.

This lack of clarity was its own kind of roadblock. A use not explicitly allowed—or disallowed—left it in a gray area. That meant we’d need to make our case to the Planning Commission, the six-person volunteer board responsible for interpreting the city’s land use code and ensuring that new projects align with the spirit of Waldport.

Our argument was simple:

If the zoning allows for a resort—and resorts worldwide often include a golf feature—then our putting course was well within the intended use. We weren’t building a driving range or a full-scale 18-hole course. We were building a recreational, family-friendly, walkable game that aligned with the coastal character of Waldport.

Still, we knew we needed to be persuasive. We put together a comprehensive application, complete with site plans, visuals, letters of support, and research showing the common use of putting courses within resorts of similar size and style. We also highlighted our intention to create something open, beautiful, and accessible to all ages—a space for fun, not formality.

Then came the meeting.

We presented our vision to the Planning Commission—what this project could bring to Waldport, how it honors the land’s legacy of play, and why we believed it met the spirit of the Downtown District zoning. We answered questions, clarified details, and tried to communicate just how much thought and care had gone into every aspect of the design.

After discussion and deliberation… we got what we hoped for.

The Planning Commission approved our use of the land for the putting course—a green light that allowed our project to finally move from concept into real construction planning. It felt like another page turning in the story. The road had been vacated. The use had been approved. And we were one step closer to building Treasure Bay.

But just when we thought we had cleared the biggest hurdles—another twist arrived.

We received word that FEMA was suddenly enforcing a set of “rules” we had never been made aware of. Rules that weren’t clearly outlined. Rules that had never before been applied to projects like ours in Waldport. Their legal footing was murky, the communication unclear, and the implications? Potentially massive.

It was a confusing and stressful moment—but it catapulted us into action. We had to move fast. Really fast. The only way to keep our vision alive was to meet a deadline we hadn’t seen coming—working toward being “grandfathered in” before new rules could take effect.

How we navigated that storm is a story in itself—one we’ll share in the next entry of The Treasure Log.