The two halves of Washington State may be the most mismatched of any state in the union, even more at odds than the northern and southern halves of California.
  The physical differences east and west of the Cascades have always been apparent, but the cultural differences become more pronounced as time goes by. 
  A map of Maria Cantwell’s narrow victory over Slade Gorton for U.S. Senate shows the cultural difference clearly. Cantwell won a few densely populated counties in a small area around Puget Sound and Gorton won everything else.
  That wasn’t just a state phenomenon. Gore won big in densely populated cities and in areas with high percentages of minorities. Bush won almost everything else.
  It’s not Old Washington that thinks it knows better than the biologists how to manage wildlife. It’s New Washington, the folks in the cities along Interstate 5 whose understanding of the natural world, such as it is, comes primarily from television. It is they who have the political power to outlaw trapping and the use of dogs for hunting mountain lions.
  As hunting and trapping are part of rural Washington’s culture, not the big cities’, people who have no personal interest in an activity are dictating to those who do.
  It’s not all bad, this cultural divide between Us and Them.
  For rural Washingtonians, both east and west of the mountains, who have lived here all their lives and perhaps for several generations, having newcomers blow into town over the span of a few decades and take over the economy and the culture is hard to take. If newcomers want to make this new place like the place they escaped from, why didn’t they just stay where they were?
  There are advantages to having new blood mix with old. New people offer different perspectives, some of which are beneficial. 
  There is little sympathy in Old Washington for the idea of breaching the dams on the Columbia and Snake rivers to reverse the decline of salmon, and there won’t be even if that proves to be necessary for the fish to survive.
  If it weren’t for the pressure if the great numbers of people whose world is of plastic and finished goods rather than of dirt and rocks and trees and water, we’d probably log every last tree in the state.
  And if it weren’t for the money generated in cities, the state’s economy would be poor now and worse later when fish and trees are gone.
  It is people who have left their homes after seeing them ruined by rapid, uncontrolled growth who warn residents of their adopted homes of what can happen if they don’t control the direction and the characteristics of growth.
  In an ideal world, newcomers would arrive slowly, a trickle not a flood.
  A small stream entering a large lake contributes to the lake but does not make great or sudden changes. A flood pouring in can change the character of the lake completely.
  The problem of living in an area with a good economy, nice weather, and a variety of things to see and do, is that lots of other people want to live here, too.
  Every good place needs something to keep people away, whether it be bitter winters, unceasing wind, or constant rain.
  Minnesota has its winters. Maine has both winter and bugs. Wyoming has wind and desolation.
  Western Washington winters are so mild as to be unnoticeable. Wind is infrequent, and we have neither tornadoes nor hurricanes. All we had was the myth of perpetual rain, but television shows the world that the sun shines here, too.
  We can’t throw the new culture out and we can’t assimilate it; we’re outnumbered. About all we can do is enjoy what’s left before it’s gone, and then move to North Dakota.