(My note: Massive props to the Denver Gazette/Colorado Politics for taking on this Rural Reckoning series. Many of us have been trying to bring to light an obvious urban-rural divide in Colorado for years, only to be told by the elites in Denver/Boulder that no such divide exists. This series lifts our voice, and I, for one, am thankful for it.)
Ranchers out west don’t need another lecture about “coexisting with nature.” They are nature. They live it, bleed it, and bury it when wolves drag a calf off in the night. In this Rural Reckoning installment, Marianne Goodland lays it all out, how Jared Polis and the Front Range crowd sold out rural Colorado under the shiny banner of “voter will,” then acted like it was a solemn duty instead of what it really was: political theater for city folk who think wolves are cute and ranchers are expendable.
It’s not just what they did, it’s how smugly they did it.
The Bullet Point Brief
- This was never rural Colorado’s idea. The wolf vote squeaked by in 2020, thanks to Denver and Boulder. Every county where people actually raise livestock? Voted hell no. Doesn’t matter. Democracy dies in urban density.
- Polis claims his hands were tied, but his calendar was wide open for the wolf drop. He and his husband, Marlon Reis, were front and center for the release event. You don’t show up with cameras and grins if you’re just reluctantly enforcing the law. You show up because you’re proud.
- The state screwed up from day one. They brought in wolves from packs with a track record of killing livestock. Then lied about it. Then moved them when things went sideways. Pitkin County inherited the mess. It’s musical chairs with apex predators.
- The price tag? Oh, it blew past the “voter-approved” budget years ago. It was supposed to be $800K a year. It’s eight million now. Ranchers are filing for livestock compensation the state doesn’t have the money to pay out.
- And now Polis is reshaping the wildlife commission like it’s a Sierra Club meet-cute. People who couldn’t name a state park last week are voting on predator policy. And Polis shrugs, says, “Well, more rural folks should apply.” That’s like lighting a wildfire and handing us a squirt gun.
My Bottom Line
Let’s stop pretending this was some reluctant civic duty for Governor Polis. The man celebrated the wolf release. Showed up to the party with his husband, who, let’s be real, isn’t just a First Gentleman. Marlon Reis is a diehard animal rights activist who’s been lobbying for this kind of thing for years. He wasn’t there by accident; he was there for the win.
And if you think that doesn’t shape state policy, I’ve got a sanctuary to sell you.
We were told this was about balance. Ecosystems. Science. But what it really was, was a shiny, symbolic “F-you” to the parts of Colorado that grow the food, raise the animals, and, until recently, had a say in what happened on their land. Now it’s CPW insiders, rewilding radicals, and political appointees running the show. And the rest of us? We’re just background noise for the next photo op.
This wasn’t about wolves. This was about control. About who gets to call the shots in Colorado—and who gets told to shut up and take it.
