Boone, IA

Boone, Iowa, sits solidly in the red, with a Cook PVI of R+15 that reflects a deep-rooted conservative tradition. For as long as anyone around here can remember, this town has leaned Republican, and the numbers back it up—Boone County hasn't voted for a Democratic presidential candidate since 1964, and in 2024, the county went +24 points for the GOP. That's not just a trend; it's a way of life. But like a lot of small-town Iowa, you can feel the winds shifting, and not always in a good way. The older generation—the farmers, the small business owners, the folks who remember when Main Street was bustling—they still hold the line on personal freedoms and limited government. But there's a creeping unease that progressive ideas, especially from Ames and Des Moines, are starting to seep in, and it's got people watching the school board meetings a little closer.

How it compares

Drive 20 minutes east to Ames, and you're in a different world. That's Iowa State University territory, and the politics there are as blue as the Cyclones' uniforms—think a Cook PVI of D+5 or so. Boone, by contrast, is the quiet, steady counterweight. We don't have the protests or the campus activism; we have church suppers and county fairs. Head south to Des Moines, and you'll find a similar split—the city core is reliably Democratic, but the suburbs and rural edges lean hard right. Boone sits in that sweet spot where the values are still traditional: low taxes, Second Amendment rights, and a general distrust of government telling you how to live your life. The contrast is stark, and it's why a lot of folks here feel like they're holding the line against a tide of overreach coming from the bigger cities.

What this means for residents

For the people who call Boone home, the political climate means a lot of things are still done the old-fashioned way. You don't see mask mandates or vaccine passports here—that kind of government overreach would get laughed out of a city council meeting. The local schools still teach civics without the woke baggage, and the county sheriff is more likely to be a friend than a bureaucrat. Property taxes are reasonable, and there's a general sense that your personal freedoms—whether it's how you raise your kids, what you do on your land, or which church you attend—are respected. But there's a growing concern that the progressive push from the state level, especially on things like land use regulations and education standards, could start chipping away at that. The long-time residents I talk to are worried that if we don't stay vigilant, we'll end up like Ames—a place where the government thinks it knows better than the people.

Culturally, Boone is still a place where the Fourth of July parade is a bigger deal than any election, and the local diner is where you hash out politics over coffee. There's a strong sense of community self-reliance—people don't look to the government to solve their problems. That said, the recent push for a county-wide zoning ordinance raised eyebrows; it felt like a foot in the door for more control over private property. For now, the conservative majority on the board of supervisors keeps things in check, but the next few years will tell the tale. If you're looking for a place where your rights come first and the government stays out of your business, Boone is still that place—but you've got to keep an eye on the horizon.