This week, my daughter Kate is graduating from her MBA program at Berkeley. My wife and I couldn’t be prouder. Kate has always been an achiever, someone who squeezes the most out of every opportunity. Like all of our kids, she’s faced real challenges — losing a parent and navigating the complexities of a blended family. But none of that has ever slowed her down.

She’s studied in South Africa, swam with great white sharks, climbed both Mount Kilimanjaro and Mount Whitney, and accomplished so much more. What I admire most about Kate isn’t just her drive — it’s the lifelong friendships she’s maintained across every phase of her life. This August, she’s getting married, and friends from grade school, high school, college, and now business school will be there. After graduation, she’ll start working at McKinsey — a firm that wouldn’t have even looked at my resume back in the day. I have no doubt she’ll help make the world better.

Today, I rode my electric unicycle from Meeker, Colorado, to Steamboat Springs — two very different towns. Meeker is a community of ranchers and energy workers. Steamboat is more polished, with tourists, influencers, and high-end coffee shops. As I rode through this incredible landscape, I couldn’t stop thinking about climate change and the urgent need to reduce fossil fuel usage and meat consumption — both for environmental and ethical reasons.

But it’s not that simple.

This beautiful land I traveled through survives on coal, oil, gas, and cattle. As I rolled out of Meeker, I thought about all the kind, hard-working people I’ve met — people whose livelihoods are tied to these industries. What happens to them when we transition away from fossil fuels and beef consumption? What happens to their children?

As a parent, I know the feeling. My wife and I lose sleep when even one of our five children is struggling. There’s truth to the saying: “You’re only as happy as your least happy child.” And these families — whether in Meeker or Craig — are no different. They love their kids and want them to have opportunities.

Midway through my ride, I passed a massive solar installation. There were at least a hundred workers in day-glow green bibs — something I didn’t expect in coal country. I was struck by how many people were employed there.

*Busy at the Colorado Coal Company Solar Farm*

Right after, I rode past the Craig coal-fired power plant. A lake sat beside it, cattle grazing nearby.

The Craig power plant doesn’t even provide electricity to its own city — it powers other states. The city manager, Peter Brixius, said he was nervous when the state passed legislation to shut it down. It’s the area’s largest employer. Between the power plant and the mines (Trapper and Colowyo), several hundred people are employed, and that economy supports many more.

I rode past the Trapper Mine and then down a quiet road to the power station itself. It was a massive complex. The plant was still running — smoke puffing from the stacks — but the parking lot was nearly empty. Across the road, high-tension power lines stretched like arteries, feeding the power-hungry cities far beyond Colorado's quiet, rural corner.

Then something poetic happened. At the top of a transmission tower, I spotted a large eagle’s nest. A mother eagle was tending to her young. I heard them chirping, their heads barely visible. But she had flown away by the time I pulled off my gloves to take a picture. The eaglets waited, crying out for her return.

*Eagles nest with babies crying out for their mother while she flies off and hunts*

Later, in Craig, I found a diner called The Sizzling Pickle. It was busy, with a welcoming vibe. I asked if I could eat and charge my unicycle. “Of course,” the staff said. Shortly after, a group of elderly women came in with a teenage boy. The owner greeted the teen warmly:

“So is this a celebration of your graduation? I’m so proud of you, Jay! I remember when you were running around the trailer park. Look at you now. What will you do next, work locally, go to trade school, maybe college?” she lovingly asked.

Jay responded politely, “There aren’t any jobs here, but I love computers. I’m going to try doing something online — maybe YouTube — or move somewhere else.”

His relatives had chipped in to buy him a backpack and a graduation teddy bear. He thanked them, smiling. When their food arrived, the teen didn’t touch his plate. He explained he’d invited his mentor to lunch and was waiting for him.

Twenty minutes later, a man in his late 70s walked in, and the teen lit up. He introduced him to his family. I’ve never seen a teenager wait so patiently — with a giant club sandwich in front of him — just out of respect.

When they asked me what I was doing, I said I’d stopped watching the news — too much partisanship — and was instead trying to understand America by riding across it. I told them how I have found a universal kindness in my travels,

The teen chimed in: “People in Hayden think people in Craig are mean. And we feel the same about them. But honestly, we’re the same. Half my family is from Hayden. They’re all good people.”

Everyone at the table nodded.

I left while they were finishing dessert. I had spent all morning thinking about how to transition our energy and food systems without hurting the people who live and work in these communities. They don’t love coal — they love their children. Just like we do in the Bay Area.

We plug in our Teslas using electricity generated by their coal. We eat steaks at fine restaurants while they raise the cattle. They use our apps to manage herds, predict weather, and run advanced oil drilling equipment. We are deeply interconnected — but often look down on one another. Just like Craig and Hayden.

On my way to Hayden, I stopped at one of the nicest skateparks I’ve ever seen. A few high school juniors were skating and waved me over. They’d just finished their last day of school. We chatted about their summer plans and their thoughts about Craig. They were thoughtful, articulate, and kind — kids who could easily be at my local high school. One of them even had a OneWheel at home.

It made me wonder: Are we doing enough to ensure these kids — who look just like ours — have meaningful opportunities in the new energy economy? Phasing out coal is essential for the planet. But so is investing in the transition — not just the technology, but the people.

I recently read a paper about massive underground hydrogen reserves that could supply clean energy for thousands of years. https://www.nature.com/articles/s43017-025-00670-1 The science is still developing, but the promise is real. What excited me was that one of the key areas thatr posses these potential reserves are in the Mountain West. The question is: Can we build an energy future that not only reduces emissions but also leverages the skills of today’s energy workers? I bet these people don’t give a damn how complex the Hydrocarbon molecule is and where they would still find it meaningful to bring up hydrogen only.

I don’t know if we need any more influencers but we do need people who can build the infrastructure of the future and want to live where this energy can be found.

I hear people say, “Teach them to code.” Maybe. But I think the better idea is to invest in clean tech that creates real jobs where people already live. Because one universal truth remains: parents everywhere want their children to have opportunities and to live close by. We’re no different. Maybe if we showed more empathy for our children’s situations, we would be less divided.

Happy graduation, Kate and Jay. May you both thrive — and may we build a world where every kid, from Craig to Berkeley, can do the same.

PS: I’m in Steamboat tonight and going to make a run for Denver Tomorrow. May take two days.

Graduation and the Road Through Craig

Back in Old Stomping Grounds

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