In Wyoming, the Republican primary is the election. Everyone knows it. The Democrats have not won a statewide race since 2006, and President Donald Trump carried the Cowboy State by nearly 46 points in 2024. So when voters went to the polls Tuesday, they were not shopping for a November cliffhanger. They were choosing the next governor.
They chose Eric Barlow.
The Gillette rancher, Marine veteran, veterinarian, and former House speaker beat a four-way field that included Trump-endorsed State Superintendent Megan Degenfelder and retired Marine Col. Brent Bien, who had the blessing of the Wyoming Republican Party. Unofficial results put Barlow at 58,820 votes, Degenfelder at 38,739, and Bien at 30,843. Professional bull rider Curt Blake barely registered.
Barlow will face Democrat Kenneth Casner on November 3. Casner ran unopposed in his own primary. That is not a contest. That is a formality in a state where every statewide office already belongs to Republicans.
Wyoming Still Picks Its Own
The national press will treat this as a Trump snub. Spare us. Wyoming did not reject the president. It refused to let an endorsement, a party committee, or a stack of out-of-state attack ads do the thinking for it.
Degenfelder had the bigger name and the louder friends. Trump backed her in January and kept backing her. Harriet Hageman backed her too. Bien had the state party’s stamp and the Freedom Caucus energy.
Barlow had something less fashionable. He had fourteen years in the legislature, a ranch southwest of Gillette that has fed his family for generations, and enough sense to knock on doors in all 23 counties instead of waiting for a telerally to do the work.
There’s been a lot of out of state money and agendas and voices trying to tell us things that aren’t true. And today Wyoming showed up, and showed us that Wyoming’s voice matters most.
That is Barlow, the night he won. He also said he ran for Wyoming, not against anybody, and that he looks forward to working with Trump. Good. A conservative state does not need a civil war. It needs a governor who will keep Washington out of the barn.
The attack shops tried anyway. Outside PACs accused him of hiking fuel taxes, green-lighting child sex changes, and sending money to illegal aliens. The record is uglier for the people writing the ads than for the man they targeted. Barlow fought to keep fuel taxes down. He voted for Chloe’s Law to strip licenses from doctors who chemically or surgically maim children. He has said he will fiercely defend the Second Amendment and the sanctity of life. Wyoming voters heard the noise, then ignored it.
A Rare Changing of the Guard
Gov. Mark Gordon is leaving after two terms. He flirted with challenging Wyoming’s term-limit law and then did the honorable thing and stepped aside. That opened more than a governor’s race. Harriet Hageman won the GOP nod for the Senate seat Cynthia Lummis is vacating.
Secretary of State Chuck Gray won the crowded primary for Wyoming’s lone House seat. The superintendent’s office, the secretary of state’s office, and half the state’s political furniture are turning over at once.
For a place this conservative, that is a lot of new hands on the wheel. It is also a reminder of why term limits exist. Power is supposed to change. In California, the same machine just keeps grinding. In Wyoming, a rancher from Campbell County can still rise the old way.
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, and the people whom he hath chosen for his own inheritance. A state that still treats property, life, and local government as more than campaign slogans is closer to that blessing than the coastal laboratories that sneer at it.
Barlow is not a messiah. He is a man who has shown up, passed bills, and run a ranch. In November he will almost certainly become governor. The job then is the same as the campaign. Keep D.C. out of Wyoming’s business. Protect girls’ sports and unborn children. Defend the gun rights of law-abiding people, including those who have paid their debt and earned restoration. And do not forget who sent him.
Wyoming already knows what it is. Tuesday it simply named the next man to guard it.
Bypass Big Tech Censors
Two Storms, One Harvest
Every food crisis in living memory has been a one-shock event. The 2008 price spike was a commodity bubble. The 2020 shortages were a logistics failure. The 2022 grain scare was a war on one exporter’s ports. Each time, the system bent, adjusted, and recovered, and each time the experts assured us afterward that global markets are simply too big and too diversified to fail.
What nobody in Washington seems eager to discuss is that 2026 is shaping up to be something the modern food system has never actually faced. Two independent shocks, one climatic and one geopolitical, are converging on the same harvest cycle at the same time. Not sequentially. Simultaneously.
Start with the weather. The Pacific Ocean is currently building toward what forecasters now openly call a record event. NOAA’s Climate Prediction Center puts the odds of at least a strong El Niño near 88 percent, with roughly two in three odds it reaches “very strong” status, the tier reserved for perhaps three or four events in the entire satellite era. Every major global model now projects a median peak in Super El Niño territory, and most of them project it exceeding the 2015-16 event, which until now held the modern record. Sea surface anomalies were already brushing the super threshold in mid-July, months before these events normally peak. The atmosphere has already shifted into El Niño mode, and the event is forecast to crest in late fall and early winter.
This is not about “climate change.” It’s about the standard cycles of weather, and the cycle we’re currently in is one that has likely devastated societies in the past. We’re better prepared as a society today, but not all Americans are equally prepared.
Serious households have started doing the quiet math on their own. Grocery bills tell part of the story, and the forecast maps tell the rest, which is why long-term food storage has moved from fringe hobby to mainstream line item in the family budget, with established suppliers like Heaven’s Harvest seeing demand from people who five years ago would have rolled their eyes at the idea. That instinct is not paranoia. It is pattern recognition, and the pattern is worth walking through carefully.
Editor’s Note: Heaven’s Harvest IS a sponsor, but the warnings of this article are real and would be written even if we didn’t have a survival food sponsor. With that said, those who take advantage of what they offer can use promo code “Patriot” for 15% off.
The Fertilizer Clock Is Already Running
While the Pacific warms, the second shock has been unfolding in the Strait of Hormuz. The conflict with Iran turned the world’s most important energy chokepoint into a contested waterway, and the consequences reach far beyond the gas pump. Roughly a third of global fertilizer trade moves through Hormuz, and the disruption sent urea prices up 86 percent year over year by March, with a 53 percent jump in a single month.
The World Bank projects energy prices rising about 24 percent in 2026 and fertilizer about 31 percent. By its own accounting, fertilizer prices ran 35 percent higher in the first five months of this year than the same period last year.
Here is the mechanism the nightly news will not explain. Fertilizer is not a grocery item. It is a time-delayed input. The nitrogen a farmer in Iowa or Punjab could not afford to apply this spring does not show up as a problem this spring. It shows up as a thinner harvest six to twelve months later.
The World Bank’s own food security brief concedes that the effects of reduced applications earlier this season “are likely to become visible only later in harvest outcomes.” Translate that from institutional language into plain English and it means this. The damage is already done, it is already in the ground, and we are simply waiting for it to arrive on the shelf.
Now check the calendar. Six to twelve months from the spring planting season lands us squarely in late 2026 and early 2027. Which is precisely when the strongest El Niño in the instrumental record is forecast to peak, bringing its signature droughts to Southeast Asia, Australia, southern Africa, northern Brazil, and South Asia, the very regions that grow the world’s rice, sugar, and oilseeds.
The World Bank warns openly that a strong El Niño “could disrupt multiple crop belts simultaneously” on top of the conflict-driven input costs. Their baseline projection assumes the Middle East disruptions ease by autumn. What in the last two years of Middle East history suggests that assumption is safe?
The System Has No Slack Left
The comfortable answer is that global markets always adjust. But adjustment requires slack, and the slack is gone. Global cereal production is expected to decline from last year’s records even before El Niño does its work. The UN World Food Programme, hardly a den of right-wing preppers, is calling this the most significant disruption to its supply chains since Covid and the invasion of Ukraine, and its supply chain director put the stakes bluntly.
Today’s supply chain challenges are tomorrow’s hunger crisis.
There is also a political dimension that markets cannot price. When food gets scarce, governments do not behave like economists. They behave like politicians. Export bans, hoarding mandates, and panic buying at the national level turned the modest rice shortfall of 2008 into a global crisis, and analysts are already warning that import-dependent nations are the first dominoes.
The 2015-16 Super El Niño, a far weaker event than what is now forecast, threw tens of millions into food stress across Africa and Asia. This one is projected to be stronger, and it arrives with fertilizer already rationed by price and shipping lanes already contested by missiles.
What Joseph Knew
Scripture does not treat preparation for lean years as faithlessness. It treats it as wisdom delivered in advance to those willing to act on it.
Behold, there come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt: And there shall arise after them seven years of famine; and all the plenty shall be forgotten in the land of Egypt.
Joseph did not respond to that warning with a hashtag or a committee. He stored grain during the years of abundance, and when the famine came, Egypt stood while its neighbors begged. The lesson is not that famine is certain. It is that the time to prepare is precisely when preparation still looks optional.
Nobody who filled a pantry in a year of plenty has ever regretted it, and nobody standing in an empty aisle has ever been glad he waited for certainty.
None of this calls for panic, and panic is the enemy of sound judgment anyway. It calls for the same unglamorous prudence our grandparents considered ordinary. Keep some cash margin, know your local growers, and put real food in deep storage while it is cheap and available, because the entire arc of this story is that cheap and available is a closing window.
Families looking for a straightforward place to start can visit Heaven’s Harvest and use promo code Patriot for 15 percent off long-term storable food. The forecasts may yet soften, the strait may yet reopen, and we should pray they do. But hope is a fine thing to hold and a foolish thing to eat.