08/13/2026
By Baldwin Dollars
*This is satire*
Another summer in the Wood River Valley can mean only one thing: orange barrels, endless delays, and the annual tradition of wondering whether Highway 75 will ever exist in a finished state.
Residents have once again found themselves sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic thanks to ongoing construction on Highway 75 and the recent closure of the Elkhorn traffic light. Commutes that once took 15 minutes now require the patience of a Buddhist monk and the fuel budget of a private jet.
Some locals, however, are adapting.
One Ketchum resident reportedly spent the spring domesticating a young elk after realizing it could reach downtown faster than his Subaru. Witnesses say the elk now responds to voice commands, parks itself outside coffee shops, and has only charged three tourists this month.
Another resident has begun commuting by paddleboard through irrigation canals, while a Lane Ranch resident claims he recently drove through Arco to renew his driver's license in Hailey because it was faster.
"I took Highway 20, grabbed lunch, filled up the tank, renewed my license, and still beat my neighbor who left for the DMV fifteen minutes before me," the resident explained.
As ridiculous as these solutions sound, newly leaked government documents suggest they're exactly what transportation planners hoped would happen.
According to the memo, obtained through what officials described as "an unfortunate printer malfunction," the real purpose of perpetual construction isn't road improvement at all. Instead, the delays are intended to make driving so unbearable that residents voluntarily abandon their vehicles in favor of bicycles, walking, and what the document refers to as "large, emotionally stable ungulates."
One section of the memo reportedly reads, "Citizens are surprisingly attached to their automobiles. Rather than banning cars, simply make every trip to Hailey feel like a pilgrimage."
Another page celebrates early successes, noting that after only a few weeks of lane closures, "several residents openly admitted that walking four miles sounded more enjoyable than waiting through another construction cycle."
The leaked memo goes on to outline an ambitious Phase 2 of the initiative, expanding the government's climate strategy well beyond transportation.
According to the document, officials are exploring the creation of "state-of-the-art assisted su***de centers" as part of a broader effort to reduce both the affordable housing shortage and the community's carbon footprint.
The memo notes that "every resident who voluntarily exits the emissions cycle represents one additional housing unit available for workforce occupancy and an immediate reduction in lifetime greenhouse gas production."
A footnote estimates the initiative could achieve "net-zero waiting lists and net-zero emissions simultaneously," describing it as "the first policy capable of solving two crises with one ribbon-cutting ceremony."
Officials insist the proposal was merely part of a brainstorming exercise and emphasized that no decisions have been made. They did, however, confirm that a consulting contract has already been awarded to study whether the facilities should be LEED-certified.
Local businesses were reportedly less enthusiastic after learning customers had begun scheduling lunch reservations according to estimated construction delays instead of actual meal times.
At press time, transportation officials announced Phase 3 of the initiative, which reportedly involves replacing every public parking space with native wildflowers and issuing government-funded mountain goats to residents for "carbon-neutral commuting."
Disclaimer: This article is a work of parody and satire, intended for entertainment purposes only. The content, including events, characters, and scenarios, is fictional and not meant to represent real individuals, organizations, or events. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real-life situations is purely coincidental. Reader discretion is advised.
Another summer in the Wood River Valley can mean only one thing: orange barrels, endless delays, and the annual tradition of wondering whether Highway 75 will ever exist in a