Endangered Opportunity

Idaho, the majority of people don’t get it.  The state is a misunderstood math genius that everyone passes by based on rumors – letting their accidentally close-minded decision get the best of them.  J.R. Simplot was a brilliant man, but he kind of screwed over my state’s image and appeal – making it appear as a desolate potato field that stretches for thousands of miles.  However, in the long run I’ll be thanking him for it, because it’s what’s preserved Idaho’s greatness.  Idaho, unlike any other state, holds a combination of lifestyle, work and recreation opportunities that is virtually endless and untapped, a combination of virtues that is now nearly extinct in the U.S.

Smothered in smog

For years I’ve listened to people boast about their home and explain all of the details that make it so great.  I always understand and respect what I hear, because we all hold our homes close to our heart.  However, I’ve spent my fair share of time traveling, all over the U.S. and all over the world, and have experienced a huge variety of lifestyles.  None ever seem to match up with misunderstood Idaho.

When you think about it, your house isn’t close to much, except for maybe that neighbor on the other side of your fence.  Our nation has become so far spread out that we literally can’t walk to get anywhere.  Even biking can be a stretch.  Something has swung out of whack when your idea of a bike ride or run includes having to first drive somewhere to be able to partake in such an activity.

It’s not just with outdoors though; metropolitan escapes are far away as well.  Can you bike to anything in L.A. or Seattle?  How long does it take to get to the closest mall?  And better yet, that restaurant you’re supposed to lunch at, how long did it take to drive there after you were at the mall?  Living in a large city doesn’t get you close to anything – it just requires more driving in more traffic, or more time using public transportation.  The beauty of Idaho is that traffic doesn’t even exist.  An occasional wreck will slow us down, but that is nothing compared to how long most people spend in their car on the way to work.

I live in the quintessential Western scene.  Our landscapes and opportunities are what led the explorers further and further west and drove our country to stand for what it does today.  True mountains (not hills, I mean the big snowy ones) tower over Boise and the rest of the state, void of buildings and clutter.  Clean rivers leave Idaho farmers self-sufficient and sustainable each year.  Our lakes fill back up naturally every spring.  We’re still the home of the Frank Church Wilderness, which remains untouched and the largest wilderness in the lower 48.  A non-saturated business market in a wide variety of industries leaves plenty of potential for more Simplot’s and Albertson’s – entrepreneurs with a great product who can still succeed over the Cheesecake Factory’s and CPK’s that flood every city with monotonous shops and restaurants.

Granted, our political background could use a little work, but it’s only a matter of time before the blue creeps in on the red’s coverage.  But everyday that I hike with my dog in the foothills and watch him roam off of a leash, I’m reminded of why I returned to Idaho.  Every time I ski within a half mile from my house, I’m reminded why of I returned to Idaho.  Every time I can walk to shop at Urban Outfitters, or better yet, a boutique clothing shop, I’m reminded of why I returned to Idaho.  Every fall that I elk hunt and buy a cappuccino (even at a Starbucks if I really wanted to) in the same day, I’m reminded of why I returned to Idaho.  Every time I sleep on a Salmon River beach and can see stars and the Milky Way, I’m reminded of why I returned to Idaho.  Every time that I go skiing and don’t see Highway 70, I’m reminded of why I returned to Idaho.  Pretty much every day I’m reminded of why I returned to Idaho.

~JDR~