Glenwood Springs Residents Vote, Leave, and Watch Roan Plateau Energy Leases

"Get out the vote."

That’s the opening salvo in a letter from Jon Miller, a Glenwood Springs resident who sees the upcoming November election not just as a day on the calendar, but as a daily practice of civic duty. Miller isn’t just telling folks to show up and cast a ballot; he’s urging them to go further, to pick up the phone or, more likely these days, send a postcard to the neighbors who usually stay home.

He’s pointing readers toward Activate America, a website that provides free lists of prospective voters and even a script to help write the message on the card. The goal is simple: encourage people to vote for candidates who prioritize the public over corporations and the wealthy. It’s a grassroots push, one that suggests democracy works best when the effort is shared, not just left to the most dedicated activists.

But while Miller is focused on the mechanics of engagement, others in the community are focused on the emotional weight of departure. Gery and Marja VanderBeek are packing up their lives after 28 years in Glenwood Springs. They’re leaving on July 17, heading north to Lake Oswego, Oregon, to find new friends and neighbors.

It’s a bittersweet transition. The VanderBeeks moved in as strangers and are leaving with strong bonds of friendship, bolstered by the spontaneous help of neighbors getting the house ready for the move. "We will miss you dearly," they write. It’s the kind of letter that hits close to home for anyone who has ever watched a long-time neighbor load up a U-Haul, wondering if they’ll ever see them again.

Meanwhile, the debate over what happens to the land beneath our feet continues. The Roan Plateau, that rugged stretch of public land west of Rifle, has been a battleground for energy development for years. Back in 2007, the Bureau of Land Management proposed 19 oil and gas leases on 73,600 acres. That sparked protests, a lawsuit from Earthjustice and Wilderness Workshop, and a directive that was put off until 2014. By then, most leases at the base of the plateau were cancelled, though substantial drilling continued on private land.

Now, Trump’s BLM wants to open up another four leases on 4,645 acres of public land on the pristine top of the Roan for a December sale.

The letter writer, who signs off as "They’re at it again," isn’t buying the usual energy independence rhetoric. They argue that "drill baby drill" is just an excuse, pointing out that the country produced more oil in 2024 than any country in history and is already the leading exporter of liquefied methane gas. The recent spike in gas prices, caused by the closing of the Strait of Hormuz, shouldn’t be used as a justification for a new gusher on the Roan.

It’s a familiar argument, but one that feels particularly urgent given the timing. As November approaches, as neighbors pack up for Oregon, and as federal agencies look to the December sale, the community is caught in a web of competing priorities. We’re being asked to vote, to say goodbye, and to decide what we’re willing to give up for energy.

Stand there long enough and you start to see the pattern. The same arguments about energy dominance are being made, just with different faces and different lease numbers. The VanderBeeks are leaving, but the question of what stays on the land remains. And Miller’s postcards are just one way to make sure someone is paying attention when the decision is made.

The Roan Plateau sits quiet for now, waiting for the December sale. The VanderBeeks are halfway packed. And the postcards are starting to arrive.