Mark Pedri -- The Young Writers from Wyoming column series is a selection of young professionals from the state – some live and work here; others have relocated. But they all consider Wyoming home. 

Why is it that in Wyoming we love to hate people from Colorado? Or better yet — people from California. Think about the last time you saw someone with out-of-state plates, particularly from one of these two states. What was your natural reaction?

Did you cuss them out under your breath and wish them back to the place they came from? Or did you think about how they might be lost and that’s why they accidentally cut you off, or forgot to use their blinker. What if they are driving too fast because they actually don’t know the speed limit or they’re running late because they thought they’d have cell phone service in the Red Desert and now they’re completely lost.

Yes, I know the tendency to tell that Mercedes from California in the fireworks stand parking lot east of Rock Springs that they missed the turn-off to Yellowstone National Park 30 miles ago. And yes, it’s so hard not to tell that guy from Colorado that his Lexus crossover should be fine driving around the Killpecker Sand Dunes.

I am as guilty as anyone. I can remember going to Teton National Park as a teenager. We would drive through the park and then slam on the brakes pointing out the window frantically toward a distant meadow. It didn’t take long before a huge line of cars was stopped behind us with eager tourists jumping out into the road with their cameras to look for an animal that didn’t exist. As soon as there was a decent crowd, we would then speed off down the road laughing at the clueless tourists. Man, was that fun. But I’ve come to realize that this amusement was just anger masked in a cheap thrill.

Sure, we’ve all had a few laughs thinking we got the best of the tourist, but when it comes down to it, when we let ourselves become angry, they win. They go along their way without even realizing their license plates affected someone else’s life. Why should they? It’s absurd to think that something as trivial as a license plate could have such an impact on someone that you’ve never met. When I started giving people that I don’t know the benefit of the doubt, things started to change for the better. It took me a while to come to terms with this, and I didn’t do it on my own, which is why I’d like to share a story that changed how I treat people I don’t know.

In 2011 I was riding my bike from Pinedale to Laramie to make a film about energy production in America. I was passing through the town of Elk Mountain, fresh off a storm and hungry for a real meal. I stopped at a cafe and got a table by myself. Pretty soon, a woman came up to me and asked if that was my bike out front. At first I thought that she was going to tell me that I couldn’t park there, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. She was curious about my journey and said that no one should have to eat alone unless it’s on their own terms.

She invited me to her table with her husband. After a great meal full of conversation and  getting to know each other, the couple offered to let me spend the night at their house. I didn’t want to overstep my presence, so I told them, “thank you for the offer, but I was planning on camping every night of my journey.”

As we were walking out, a thunderstorm rolled in. Not wanting to break my camping commitment, I took them up on a different offer. That night I slept in my tent in their barn. The next morning breakfast was on the table at 7 a.m. and I got the chance to meet the rest of their family who owned a ranch in the area.

Even though I only knew them for one day, I felt a connection to these people as if I had known them for years, and it’s all because they made the choice to welcome me, an outsider, into their lives.

This is what I love about Wyoming, but it’s also what makes me cringe when I see the opposite.

More and more, there seems to be an increasing tension, a distaste for the outsider. People have a growing entitlement to this place because they are from here. They are closed off to people from outside the state and abroad. I’ve heard people tell me, “I was born here. They’re just coming to take advantage of what we have without giving back.”

Then my answer to that is — you’re lucky; now do your part to help people who didn’t have the opportunity to experience such an incredible place in the same way that you have.

Go out of your way to be nice. Don’t drive to Jackson to prank tourists just for a cheap laugh. Try sparking up a conversation with that person with California plates at the gas pump next to you.

Ask what brings them to Wyoming. Recommend they eat at your friend’s restaurant or cafe down the street. Despite what you may think, they didn’t drive all the way from LA to wait in line at Starbucks. Help them experience this place in the same way that we do.

Maybe they’re not used to the small town culture like we are. If you choose to be the person who extends a welcoming hand, you might just be surprised with how things turn out. We’re all just going through life looking for the same things; whether it be a connection to this beautiful land that our state is known for, or a connection to one another.

Mark Pedri is an award-winning documentary filmmaker and writer from Rock Springs, where his career began shooting industrial videos for the nearby trona mines.