In one of the most scenic—and wealthiest—towns on the California coast, a surprisingly fierce battle has been unfolding. It’s not about housing density, shoreline erosion, or climate policy.

It’s about pickleball.

After months of complaints, community debate, and a short-lived temporary suspension, the Carmel-by-the-Sea City Council has voted to permanently ban pickleball from Forest Hill Park, the town’s only public place where the sport was allowed.

The ban makes Carmel the first known California municipality to outlaw the sport at a public park due to noise concerns, according to reporting by SFGate.

Pickleball—the fast-growing paddle sport adored by retirees, competitive players, and social leagues alike—has been sweeping the nation. But in Carmel, residents say the sport brought something they were not prepared for: noise, and lots of it.

Now, the debate over “pops” and “pings” has fractured neighbors, frustrated athletes, elevated noise complaints into legal deliberations, and thrust a small town into a statewide conversation about how to balance recreation with residential tranquility.

The Problem, According to Residents: It’s Just Too Loud

Forest Hill Park sits nestled among quiet residential streets where birdsong, ocean breezes, and the occasional dog bark form the typical soundscape. That changed when pickleball arrived.

Neighbors say that what initially seemed like a harmless pastime soon became impossible to ignore.

The rhythmic pop-pop-pop of polymer balls striking paddles echoed through the community at all hours of the day. Some residents said the sound carried for blocks—and once heard, could not be tuned out.

“It’s been so peaceful and quiet,” Carmel resident Kimberly Edwards said during a Nov. 4 council meeting, referring to the temporary pause on pickleball implemented weeks earlier. “There’s been an uptick in tennis players. Especially younger people.”

Edwards said she believed the ban restored the peaceful environment residents expect in Carmel, a town known for its strict preservation rules, pristine views, and reputation as a haven for the arts and relaxation.

But her relief came with concern.

“These aren’t supervised courts,” she told the council. “There’s no parks and rec department. Who’s going to enforce this? Am I going to have to hear a noise and call the police?”

Her questions underscored a core issue: whatever the city decides, someone must enforce it.

And enforcement, as council members noted, is far from simple.

Pickleball Players Push Back: “Give Quiet Equipment a Chance”

Not everyone wants to see the sport disappear from Forest Hill Park.

Competitive pickleball player Barbara Lang, who no longer uses the Carmel courts due to the controversy, urged the council to consider a middle ground.

She pointed to paddle and ball combinations specifically engineered to be quieter—equipment many communities around the country use successfully to mitigate noise complaints.

“If you want to try it with the quiet ball, I think it’s only fair to the players to give that a chance,” she told the council.

Lang emphasized she was speaking not only for herself, but for many players who were not able to attend the meeting.

For them, banning pickleball entirely feels like an overcorrection—especially for a sport associated with healthy activity, senior-friendly exercise, and building community.

But the council was not persuaded.

A Proposed Compromise Fails: “We’re Overcomplicating It”

City leaders did consider a compromise:
Allow pickleball to continue at Forest Hill Park if players used soft paddles and quieter balls.

Advocates argued the equipment dramatically dampens the sound.
Opponents countered that even quieter versions would still be audible, still require enforcement, and still disrupt the character of the neighborhood.

Councilmember Alissandra Dramov delivered the verdict bluntly:

“We’re just overcomplicating it in the name of compromise. I have to accept the reality this is not a good location for pickleball.”

Her concerns echoed those of Mayor Dale Byrne, who said enforcement was the deciding factor.

“It’s just a really difficult thing to enforce,” Byrne said. “And I can’t ask the [police] chief to send his people up there. It’s really sad that we can’t figure this out.”

With that, the council voted to pursue a full, permanent ban.

The town will now draft an ordinance, and once written, residents will have two additional hearings to appeal or propose amendments.

Why Carmel? Why Pickleball? Why Now?

Carmel-by-the-Sea is known for strict local controls, from building aesthetics to tree trimming. The town’s compact size, narrow streets, and historical cottages make proximity a defining quality.

Because of this, sound travels more easily in some neighborhoods than in larger suburbs.

Pickleball, meanwhile, has exploded in popularity across the U.S. Over the last several years:

Tens of millions have picked up paddles

Courts have replaced tennis lines nationwide

Outdoor recreation surged during and after the pandemic

Retirees embraced the sport for its accessibility

Younger players have joined leagues and tournaments

But with growth has come friction.

Cities from Florida to Colorado have grappled with pickleball-related complaints. In some communities, neighbors have filed lawsuits. In others, municipalities have invested in sound-dampening materials, new court locations, or specialized equipment.

Carmel’s decision is one of the most extreme nationwide—but residents say unique local conditions justify it.

A Divided Community: Recreation vs. Peace and Quiet

The debate has forced Carmel residents to confront a familiar but difficult civic question:

What happens when one group’s joyful pastime becomes another group’s constant disruption?

For seniors, pickleball is more than a sport—it’s community, exercise, and social connection.

For activists in the “quiet neighborhood” camp, the noise is incompatible with the nature of Carmel’s residential zoning.

For the city council, enforcement remains the hardest issue of all. Carmel does not have a parks department, meaning monitoring falls to police officers whose hours are limited and responsibilities far broader.

If the city permitted pickleball with strict rules about equipment, operating hours, or noise limits, someone would have to ensure compliance.

Councilmember Dramov noted that the town’s small size leaves little room for half-measures.

“We’re not a city with the staff to monitor every paddle and every ball,” she said.

What Happens Next?

The city attorney will now draft an ordinance making the ban permanent.
Once the language is finalized, residents will be able to:

Attend hearings

Submit feedback

Propose revisions

Appeal specific provisions

This process gives both sides one last chance to make their case, though the council’s remarks suggest a compromise is unlikely.

In the meantime, pickleball enthusiasts will need to travel to neighboring towns to play—something many are already doing.

Some players have floated the idea of constructing dedicated pickleball courts farther from residential zones. Others hope the city might revisit the quiet-equipment proposal in the future.

But for now, Forest Hill Park is quiet again.

Carmel’s Debate Reflects a Larger Tension Across America

The town’s dispute is not unique.

Across the country, communities are wrestling with the same questions:

How noisy is too noisy?

How do we preserve peace without eliminating recreation?

Should growing sports adapt to neighborhoods—or the other way around?

What responsibility do cities have to protect residents’ quality of life?

When is compromise worth the enforcement burden?

Carmel’s answer, at least for this location, is clear:
Quiet must come first.

Other towns may reach different conclusions.

The Bigger Picture: When a Simple Sport Becomes a Cultural Debate

Pickleball’s meteoric rise has transformed it from a fringe hobby to a phenomenon. But as it grows, it raises deeper questions about changing lifestyles, aging populations, shared spaces, and how communities adapt to new trends.

In Carmel, the underlying issue wasn’t merely noise—it was identity.

Residents chose to live in a quiet, tightly regulated coastal village. They expect silence, serenity, and small-town charm. A sport defined by rapid, repetitive sound simply collided with that vision.

For players, the ban may feel like a rejection of a vibrant, multigenerational activity they see as healthy, social, and inclusive.

But for longtime Carmel residents, the ban feels like a necessity to protect what makes their town unique.

A Little Sport, a Big Question

Carmel’s pickleball ban may seem humorous to outsiders, but for the people who live near Forest Hill Park, the issue has dominated neighborhood conversations for months.

With the ordinance on its way, the debate will continue through public hearings—but city leaders appear convinced that the simplest solution is the quietest one.

The story of pickleball in Carmel is, in the end, the story of modern community life:

Shared spaces are complicated.
Growing sports create growing pains.
And even the smallest sound can echo loudly in the politics of a small town.