Nate Hegyi, rural reporter for the , is embarking on crisscrossing the continental divide in August and September, interviewing and listening to Americans ahead of the 2020 election. You can follow Nate on , an and this map.
August 30: Rest Day in Salmon
An important note here: These are my first glance takeaways. Think of this as a reporter鈥檚 notebook. A mosaic of voices over the next few weeks, cycling 900 miles across four states and dozens of small towns.
A cold front is moving through the whitewater rafting mecca town of Salmon, Idaho. The smoke has cleared and the autumnal bite in the air that I felt yesterday morning has returned. But waking up in a king-sized bed at a Super 8, I don鈥檛 feel that breeze.
Instead I feel the glass-shattering impact of news that a man was shot to death during another night of political unrest in Portland. I hear it on Fox 暗黑爆料 when I turn on the television, breaking my self-imposed exile from the media cycle during this trip.
I take a long, hot shower and try to wash the fear off. But I can鈥檛 stop imagining a pickup truck, flying twin Gadsen, 鈥淒on鈥檛 Tread On Me鈥� flags like the ones I occasionally see out here, smashing into my bicycle from behind. My crumpled body falls bleeding into a ditch surrounded by all the other detris a highway sees in a year. The skeleton of a dead deer. An empty Coors Light can. Tire ribbons.
That鈥檚 the selfish, personal fear that wells up when I read about Kenosha, Portland and the other moments of violent unrest pulling at the frayed edges of this country. That maybe, here in the heart of Idaho, someone might intentionally veer their vehicle and knock out that dumbass, fake news journalist riding a bicycle.
But then I drink some coffee and walk outside.
I mentally downshift back into reality, and wander over to a city park near the Salmon River, which is silty and brown from a recent wash out. There鈥檚 a disparity I鈥檝e been experiencing in the last two days between the America I see on television and on social media versus the America I see while moving 10 miles per hour. This America has racism and hate, yes, as evidenced by the confederate flag outside town, but there are deeper currents too. So I鈥檓 digging into those.
An older gentleman wearing a wide-brimmed brown hat, glasses and a vest is sitting on a nearby bench. I try to strike up a conversation but I can tell that he doesn鈥檛 want to talk. He politely declines a proper interview as he鈥檚 packing up his things. Still, I pepper him with a couple of questions. I felt that maybe I was on the edge of being rude. But, walking with a crutch, he answered anyway. He says he鈥檚 lived here for three decades. Salmon, he says, was a ghost town when he first arrived. Then tourism revitalized it. But now 鈥渢he town鈥檚 ruined.鈥�
I ask how.
He pauses and gestures to his face and says, 鈥淵ou see the masks? Well that鈥檚 one thing.鈥�
Then he walks across the street away from me. I think I understand what he means. Salmon is a small town with a main drag that, pre-pandemic, had a brewpub and a bar featuring a giant owl stitched with arrows on it. Both of those businesses are now closed.
Still, the hard work of revitalization continues in some pockets of town, including at the fly shop nearby.
Inside, Sierra McAdams is helping a group of friends from Colorado prepare for their trip on the river. She鈥檚 a fifth-generation Idahoan in her early 20s, with a nose ring and tattoos, who moved here from Boise right when the pandemic first got serious in March. But she stresses that COVID wasn鈥檛 the only factor.
鈥淭he city was growing so rapidly, expenses were so high, and it just wasn鈥檛 the kind of lifestyle I wanted to live,鈥� she says. 鈥淐oming to Salmon, it鈥檚 almost like taking a step back five or 10 years. Life is slower. It鈥檚 easier.鈥�
She says there鈥檚 a cohort of young people in Salmon who are molding this town into their own while also trying to preserve its way of life 鈥� and that doesn鈥檛 necessarily mean saving the town鈥檚 traditional, Republican politics. Instead, she says, 鈥淚 want that small town feeling, that Wild West feeling, to stay the same.鈥�
McAdams is referring to the freedom to drive wherever you want and park on the side of the road and sleep. Or walking out your back door and hiking in public lands nearby. Or buying inexpensive land and building a self-sustaining, off-the-grid farm 鈥� something she says more and more young people are doing around Salmon.
鈥淚t鈥檚 admirable,鈥� she says. 鈥淓specially in the world that we live in where we don鈥檛 know what鈥檚 going to be around the corner.鈥�
She鈥檚 an example of a different kind of migrant in the West 鈥� young, urban folks who are tired of how expensive cities are, are concerned about the environment, and are moving to rural communities to live closer to the earth. It has its roots in the 鈥渂ack-to-the-land鈥� movement that sprouted in the 1970s, and our conversation reminds me of a quote about the modern West from one of the region鈥檚 preeminent writers, Wallace Stegner.
鈥淭he real people of the West are infrequently cowboys and never myths,鈥� he writes in The Sound of Mountain Water,a book I鈥檓 reading along this journey. 鈥淭hey live in places like Denver and Salt Lake, Dillon and Boise, American Fork and American Falls, and they confront the real problems of real life in a real region.鈥�
These latter-day Westerners aren鈥檛 always Yellowstone-inspired investment bankers or conservative Californians frustrated with coastal politics.
They鈥檙e young people, punks, retired military veterans, and folks like Steve Ayers, who I meet sitting on a bench near a cafe. He鈥檚 sipping a morning beer and wearing a loose-fitting blue t-shirt. He鈥檚 a recent transplant to Salmon, living in his recently deceased sister鈥檚 vacant home.
鈥淭he city seized my house in California. So then I was homeless,鈥� he says. 鈥淚 figured, rather than be homeless, I'll move into this house because it was vacant for a couple years.鈥�
Ayers is a recovering methamphetamine addict 鈥� it was the reason he lost his house in Los Angeles. Before those hard times, he worked security for Paramount Pictures in Hollywood. He says he was on the set of sitcoms such as Happy Days, LaVerne & Shirley, Mork & Mindy, Taxi, Cheers and Family Ties.
"I feel like me not being so invested in the news and focusing on my life, what makes me happy, and who I am 鈥� I feel as if that's my ripple effect in this weird world that we live in."Sierra McAdams
But living in Salmon is a big shift from Los Angeles. Ayers loves the surrounding creeks, forests and mountains, but he鈥檚 also 鈥渂ored to death.鈥�
鈥淭here鈥檚 nothing bad about it. It鈥檚 just a small town. There鈥檚 not much to do. Unless you have a hobby or you go fishing, you鈥檙e going to go stir crazy. Because there鈥檚 only one Burger King here. There鈥檚 a couple of bars, too, which I don鈥檛 go to,鈥� he says.
Ayers struggles with depression and making friends here. However, he recently joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and some of the other parishioners are helping him fix up his sister鈥檚 house. He鈥檚 also keeping an eye on any dirt bikes for sale to go 鈥渃ow trailing,鈥� which is a fun phrase for riding on two-track dirt roads. Ayers says he鈥檒l probably die here and has no plans to move back to California.
He offers me a drink but I decline 鈥� it鈥檚 still morning and I鈥檓 working 鈥� and we chat some more off record before I ride off.
One thing that struck me about my conversations today was that both McAdams and Ayers don鈥檛 really follow the news 鈥� and they seem quite content. McAdams remembers when her mother visited recently and gave her a crash course in the latest happenings, such as the protests in Portland.
鈥淎nd I'm like, 鈥榃hat?鈥� And I hop online and I'm like, Oh, my God, like, this is getting crazy,鈥� she says.
So now, she鈥檚 focusing on the positives in her life, such as eating healthy, fly fishing and being around good people.
鈥淚 feel like me not being so invested in the news and focusing on my life, what makes me happy, and who I am 鈥� I feel as if that鈥檚 my ripple effect in this weird world that we live in,鈥� she says. 鈥淚nstead of being like, 鈥榦h, did you hear about whatever happened and yada yada?鈥欌€�
I鈥檓 a news junkie but in this experiment of 鈥渟low journalism鈥� I鈥檓 trying to take a break from my usual 24/7 media diet. It鈥檚 hard, and I鈥檓 looking forward to the frequent moments on this ride when I鈥檓 out of service and the choice is taken away from me.
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