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Another patch of open space in Park City, another battlefield over development. This particular parcel, a 40-acre spot near the intersection of US-40 and I-80, is the potential future home of a development called Highland Flats, which like all potential new development has spurred heated debate in Park City. There are signs about it visible along Old Ranch Road, highlighting the displeasure of certain local factions just as there were with regarding the ongoing Hideout saga. The proposed development is for 410 residential units, a third of which would be designated as affordable housing for primary residents making between 30-80% of the average medium income.
On Feb. 23, the Summit County Planning Commission held a public hearing on the topic, which featured withering criticism from residents of nearby Highland Estates. Following a presentation with legal representatives for the developers on March 9, commissioners voted unanimously against the residential rezoning required for the project. Nevertheless, the commissioners acknowledged the dire need for affordable housing in the Park City area and praised the project’s goals, if not its planned execution. The next step for developers is to make their case to the Summit County Council while making a push to rally more public support.
“We are pleased the planning commission will continue its evaluation of our important proposal. Our vision has always been to provide a safe, high-quality, and most importantly an economically attainable housing product to workforce residents within the boundaries of the Summit County. In every data- driven exercise conducted by the County, we have witnessed a very significant, and even compelling, public interest to provide this type of living,” says Lance Bullen of Colmena Group, a partner in the development via a press release. “If not at this location, which provides preferable I-40 access, public transit assets, contiguous developable property with favorable topography, then where? It would be a travesty if the voices of a few drown out the need articulated by so many.”
The very real and concerning issue of affordablehousing often gets caught up in the debate regarding the endless churn of development in Park City. Keeping track of it all is difficult enough with euphemistic development names and byzantine zoning requirements muddling the issue. Most people don’t have the time or inclination to sort through it all, so development gets painted with a broad brush. Throw in a dose of NIMBYism, and reasonable discussion becomes difficult. Few would make a good faith argument against the need for affordable housing in the Park City area, but put new affordable housing anywhere in their proximity, and suddenly everyone wants to shut the door behind them.
The continual rise in Park City housing prices along with an increased need for workers in town has created unsustainable stalemates. How do you address the housing crisis without increasing development? How do you decrease traffic congestion without eliminating the daily need for some of the 16,000 workers to commute to Park City? How do you fill open employment positions without anywhere for people to live or a convenient commute? You can’t.
As such, many local employers support affordable housing initiatives, including the Sundance Institute, PC Tots, DBR Joints (operators of No Name Saloon, the Bonyeard and more) and the Montage. In contrast, many residents—through comment sections social media posts—have noted employers are doing little to address the workforce shortage themselves whether by helping provide housing or raising wages that make commuting more palatable. Easy answers aren’t easy to come by. In the meantime, developers have vowed to follow through on their efforts to provide affordable housing units at Highland Flats—albeit while turning a nice profit—while city and county officials keep looking for solutions to address housing woes. Debate is certain to be fierce as factions advocate for their interests, and we’ll provide updates as the proposal progresses.
After you get the COVID-19 vaccine, is it safe to return to the way things were? Can you visit family and friends you haven’t seen in months? Should you go to a concert or baseball game? The answers, of course, are a little more nuanced than just “yes” or “no.”
Monday, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention released long-awaited guidance for people who have already received the COVID-19 vaccine. While getting vaccinated opens up a world of possibilities—at least compared to those still waiting for their shot—the new rules are probably not as permissive and life-changing as some would hope. When it comes down to it, you will still have to use your best judgment.
How to know if I’ve been fully vaccinated
The CDC considers you fully vaccinated if:
It’s been two weeks after your second dose of a vaccine that requires two doses (like the Pfizer or Moderna vaccines), or
It’s been two weeks since you received a single-dose vaccine (like Johnson & Johnson’s Janssen vaccine).
If it has been less than two weeks since your shot, or if you still need to get your second dose, the CDC does not consider you protected fully from the Coronavirus, and you need to continue following all prevention steps until you are fully vaccinated.
Visiting family and friends
The new guidelines say you can get together indoors with other people who have also been fully vaccinated without wearing a mask.
You can also expand your “pandemic pod” by gathering indoors with one other household where people have not been vaccinated, without wearing masks.
This means, yes, you can finally (and safely) visit family members, whether they have been vaccinated or not. But, before you rush over and fire up the grill, the CDC says you should take extra precautions around people who have an increased risk for severe illness from COVID-19.
Attending Big Indoor Events
Even if you have received the shot, the CDC still recommends wearing a mask and staying at least six feet apart from others. The guidance also says you should avoid medium-to-large-sized crowds and poorly ventilated places whenever possible.
Utah Opera will return to in-person performances on March 25.
The CDC guidelines get a little fuzzy on the safety of outdoor gatherings and events. It acknowledges that outdoor events are safer than indoor, thanks to the better air circulation and ability to keep socially distant, but they’re still not as safe as, say, watching the game from your couch.
So, if you’re looking forward to summer sporting events, whether you have the vaccine or not, the CDC recommends you wear a mask, remain six feet apart and avoid yelling, chanting or singing—which can help the virus spread.
The Salt Lake Bees announce the 2021 baseball season to kick off May 6 at Smith’s Ballpark.
The Salt Lake Bees baseball team recently released its schedule for the 2021 season. As of the publication of this article, the season opens Thursday, May 6 against the Reno Aces at Smith’s Ballpark. It’s still not entirely clear what precautionary measures the ballpark will put in place. According to the Bees’ website, “the Bees are currently working with local and state health department officials on a plan for fan attendance at the ballpark. More information on attendance and ticket sales will be announced at a later date.”
What about travel?
Many of us had to cancel travel plans in 2020, and, if you’ve got your vaccine, you’re likely tempted to resurrect those plans.
The CDC did not update its pandemic travel recommendations with this latest round of new guidance, saying you should still avoid domestic and international air travel if at all possible.
Do I still have to quarantine?
There’s also no need to quarantine, or be tested for COVID-19 if someone exposes you to the virus, unless you have symptoms. The CDC says there’s also no need to isolate unless you develop symptoms—at which point, give your doctor a call.
Now, if you live with someone who contracts COVID, the CDC guidance remains the same. You should still stay away from others for 14 days and get tested, even if you do not have symptoms.
Why so much caution?
You might be wondering why the CDC recommendations align so closely to what they’ve already been telling us to do. Frankly, it’s because there’s still a lot we don’t know about spreading the virus, even after getting the vaccine.
The CDC says it knows that the vaccines are effective at preventing the disease, especially severe cases. But now, there’s a whole crop of variant strains of the virus that weren’t around when some of the major vaccines underwent testing. There’s still a lot to learn about how effective the vaccines are against those variants.
We’re also still learning how well COVID-19 vaccines prevent people from spreading the disease. Even if you’re much less likely to get it yourself after getting the vaccine, you might still spread it to others, even if you don’t show symptoms.
All of these guidelines are subject to change as we learn more about COVID. Utah already has an eye on lifting some state pandemic restrictions. In the final hours of the legislative session, Utah lawmakers passed a bill that would end the statewide mask mandate by April 10, 2021. The bill would loosen other restrictions as well, once the state hits certain benchmarks, including, 1.63 million doses of the COVID-19 vaccine, a 14-day case rate less than 191 per 100,000 and a seven-day average ICU hospitalization rate lower than 15%.
If you’re anxious to open up your opportunities to see family and friends again, check out whether you’re eligible to receive the vaccine.
Flip a switch, and the lights come on. It seems simple and innocuous, and for many, it’s where the story begins and ends. But energy in Utah is anything but simple. Every phone charged, every movie streamed and every room illuminated comes with a cost. In the Beehive State, more than in most places, that’s paid in carbon.
Utah generates 64% of its electricity by burning coal. That proportion has declined substantially since 2001 (94%) but it still dwarfs the national figure of 23%. Utah has the worst average air quality index ranking of any state and is economically vulnerable as climate change affects snow conditions. A coordinated, concerted effort between residents, local industry and the state government to back cleaner electricity generation is needed, but that’s not what’s occurring.
This reality came into acute focus in October 2020 when the Utah Public Service Commission (PSC) ruled Utah’s monopoly electricity provider Rocky Mountain Power could reduce the amount it pays customers for electricity produced by residential solar by roughly 40% from 9.2 cents per kilowatt-hour (kWh) to 5.969 cents/ kWh in the summer and 5.639 cents/kWh in the winter. The decision was a blow to the residential solar industry in Utah. And while the rate reduction was sold as a compromise between RMP’s original low ball valuation for residential solar of 1.5 cents/kWh and the national average of 22.6 cents/kWh, according Vote Solar, a non-profit advocacy group, there is a huge gap.
The chasm in estimates and the subsequent ruling doesn’t represent reality. “RMP got what they wanted with the decision. They came with an incredible lowball and effectively moved the goalposts, so they can still act dissatisfied with the decision even while kneecapping residential solar in Utah,” said an energy consultant for Berkshire Hathaway Energy, who spoke to us on the condition of anonymity. RMP is a subsidiary of Berkshire.
RMP has been chipping away at residential solar for some time. Prior to 2017, residential solar customers who sent excess power back to the grid were compensated with what’s called net metering, which meant the amount of power generated by customers was paid back to the homeowner, ostensibly paying solar customers the retail rate for energy they produce. RMP argued that the rate wasn’t sustainable because those customers didn’t have to pay for transmission and energy storage, so they pursued the reduced “export credit” of 9.2 cents/kWh for new solar customers as part of a transition program. The change diminished the benefit of new home solar, and installations slowed from more than 12,000 in 2017 to about 3,500 last year.
RMP’s efforts were aimed at avoiding a death spiral for coal production. If more customers are moving to solar, this would, in turn, raise rates for coal, which, in turn, would further drive more customers towards solar. RMP’s monopoly was threatened by a market-based solution available to notoriously frugal customers in a state with more than 300 sunny days per year, so they tipped the scales. Centralized utility monopolies have long been considered prudent because they eliminate overlapping infrastructure—RMP owns all the transmission lines, substations, etc.—but credible, de-centralized competition, like solar, is a threat. RMP managed to set a rate to profit off power generated by residential solar customers.
Utah’s energy monopoly is proving resistant to competitive forces threatening coal, but even when market forces encourage the utility to stray from the status quo, politics can get in the way. RMP is a division of Pacificorp, which runs the Naughton coal-fired power plant in Kemmerer, Wyo, that supplies some electricity to Salt Lake City. Pacificorp’s own 2019 Integrated Resource Plan (IRP) called for the early retirement of two Naughton units within six years, converting one unit to natural gas. Natural gas produces approximately less carbon than coal and it’s more cost-effective. State and local lawmakers are pushing back to prop up the local coal industry against the wishes of both the utility and consumers.
“What we’re hearing are disingenuous solutions,” says Noah Miterko, Policy Associate for the Healthy Environment Alliance of Utah (HEAL). “There are valid concerns about an area’s tax base and peoples’ employment, but saying these jobs are going to be around long term isn’t true. The utility companies and the mining companies know it’s a lie. They’ll keep the jobs around as long as it’s profitable, then declare bankruptcy, give bonuses to the executives and sell the companies off for parts.”
Keeping the Naughton plant operating is just kicking the issue down the road, and continuing to generate power by burning coal will ultimately cost consumers in cash on their energy bills and via environmental calamity. In a way, it’s surprising to see a deeply conservative area pushing for government intervention to prop up a struggling business, and the approach fails to confront a changing reality with solutions that will help the community in the long run.
“The inevitable is coming to a head a few years ahead of schedule. We need to reinvest in these communities economically. It’s not an apples-to-apples comparison, but we’re going to see the same kinds of issues in Carbon and Emery County in Utah eventually, and we need to be ready with solutions,” says Miterko.
But what’s to be done? When a market-based solution threatens the utility, they push back on customers. When the market pushes a utility away from coal towards a more efficient—though still fossil-fuel based—solution, legislatures enter the fray to disrupt adaptation. The climate crisis isn’t waiting on a benevolent form of capitalism to rise, nor is it waiting on an altruistic bureaucracy to act.
“Berkshire will always stack the deck in their favor. At these new export credit rates, buying solar is giving them profitable energy. Unless consumers have the energy storage capacity to directly use the power they’re producing, they’re adding to the utility’s supply at this point,” says the Berkshire consultant.
Miterko was less pessimistic, suggesting homeowners talk to solar suppliers to assess if residential production can work for them. He says the faster we can normalize renewables, the better. While natural gas is preferable to coal, it’s still fossil-fueled based energy. Investing heavily in related infrastructure will lead to the same discussions we’re now having about coal several years down the line.
“If you read how RMP and Berkshire are investing in renewables, it would sound good. But it’s greenwashing,” says the Berkshire consultant. “They aren’t driving change. They’re planning to transition as solutions become more profitable than fossil fuels.”
Essentially, the players are all hedging their bets, but meanwhile, time on the carbon clock is ticking. Miterko concurs: “It’s the business-as-usual plan. Solar and wind are becoming cheaper and more attractive but the transition will be too late for some of our concerns.” Solar subsidies are scheduled to phase out over the next five to 10 years. The subsidies baked into the fossil fuel industry since its inception have never gone away. “Subsidies are designed to help gain a foothold, not prop up an industry indefinitely,” Miterko says.
If anything in Utah will have an effect, there is action regarding electricity production happening primarily at the municipal level. The 2019 Community Renewable Energy Act (H.B. 411) provided cities with the mechanisms to get to net-100% of electric energy from renewable resources by 2030. The Salt Lake City and Park City Councils were early adopters, and by the end of 2019, 24 municipalities comprising nearly one million RMP customers had committed to paying the cost of pivoting to renewable energy sources and removing fossil fuels from their portfolio. That level of participation can compel a utility—even one that’s a monopoly—to change the way they’re investing.
The backcountry access gates at Park City Mountain are closed indefinitely per a directive from the resort’s management. The closure follows the a fatal avalanche accident in backcountry terrain adjacent to the resort’s borders, the second such incident in a matter of weeks after a fatal accident on January 8. The sudden closure prohibits—for the time being—people from accessing national forest land. A meeting between representatives of Park City Mountain and the National Forest Service is scheduled to discuss management of backcountry access gates in the future.
The fatal avalanche accident precipitating the closure occurred on Sunday, January 31, off the area known as Square Top. The victim, Kurt Schroder—a 57-year-old Park City resident who was an experienced backcountry skier and was equipped with rescue gear—accessed the backcountry via a gate at Park City Mountain just before 3:00 p.m. after riding the 9990 chairlift. Schroder triggered an avalanche on the lower portion of the slope on Square Top and was caught and buried. His ski partner was able to locate and extricate Schroder before attempting life saving measures, which were ultimately unsuccessful. Rescue crews were unable to access the area until the following morning to assist because of the high avalanche danger in the area, and mitigation with explosives couldn’t be conducted as darkness fell. Loss of life in avalanche accidents is always tragic, and condolences are extended to the victim’s family and friends.
Since 2000, at least nine fatalities have occurred on the Park City ridgeline. The area can be somewhat more avalanche prone other parts of the Wasatch due to a generally thinner snowpack, but easy access is likely what has made it the site of numerous accidents over the years. There are few similar places where a skier or snowboarder can hike such a short distance from the top of a chairlift accessing long, sustained backcountry ski lines before returning to a chair for another lap. For decades, knowledgeable locals have enjoyed the spoils of powder skiing on these mountains. But the ease of access has also lured unprepared skiers to the slopes as well.
Throughout the resort’s history under numerous different ownership groups, national forest access has been uninhibited with rare exceptions such as when search and rescue operations were underway. A resort can’t prohibit access to public land it borders without getting creative by closing private land to create an off-limits buffer between the open private terrain and public land.
Map showing the boundary between Park City Mountain’s private land and public land. Top of 9990 chairlift located where the hand is.
Some resorts employ this tactic not as means to prevent access, but to instead provide a filter, ensuring people who enter uncontrolled backcountry terrain have the requisite avalanche gear including a beacon, shovel and probe. Bridger Bowl in Montana does this. Jackson Hole infamously moved all their rope lines 10 feet in, effectively closing access to national forest land it borders in the 1990s. The move backfired spectacularly as a culture war between resort management and local die hard skiers culminated Jackson Hole instituting the now-revered open-gate policy in 2000.
We’ve reached out to Park City asking for details about their lease on the property and how regulations affect the resort’s ability to manage the gate, if they are indeed legally permitted at all. We are waiting for details and will update this when we receive more information. We are also waiting on the fulfillment of a FOIA request for the lease.
A prolonged closure of the resort boundaries is certain to rankle the local ski community. Permanently closing access simply shouldn’t be a consideration, as restricting access to public lands is legally and morally dubious at best, and has a long and undignified history of alienating the core ski community. Most backcountry users I’ve spoken with on the subject wouldn’t oppose some measures to ensure people are prepared when entering backcountry terrain, such as requiring people to carry avalanche rescue gear and check out with ski patrol.
Avalanche professionals from the Utah Avalanche Center and AIARE I’ve consulted with also advocate for increased education or some similar form of filtering, but none has advocated for a closure of backcountry access. In Jackson Hole where the gates are always open Teton County Search and Rescue has partnered with the resort to station people at gates on particular high avalanche danger days, not as an enforcement strategy, but to help educate people about the risks. A similar system if instituted in Park City wouldn’t prevent all avalanche accidents, but it could help prevent some while still allowing people to make their own decisions.
Permanently ending decades of public lands access would be a reactionary move in the wake of two tragic accidents. Targeted measures—whether that’s moving the access gate, requiring people have appropriate gear to access the gate, or increasing avalanche education and awareness at access points—should be considered. After avalanche accidents ski resorts, avalanche professionals and backcountry users should work together to build a safer, stronger community, not move to effectively end it.
We will update this story as is progresses. Until then, stay safe and visit the Utah Avalanche Center website for updates for current avalanche conditions.
In the 1800s, humans were busy scurrying across the globe prying into the blank spots on the map, why? Because, of course, they were there. From the frozen poles of the Earth to its darkest jungles, we had a guy on it. Here in the United States, the transcontinental railroad had opened up the nation. But, despite nearly a century of poking around by native peoples, Spanish padres, men military, mountain and Mormon, there remained one big question mark over the terrain through which flowed the Green and the Colorado Rivers.
On then-existing maps of the area between Green River Wyoming and St. Thomas, Nevada, there might as well have been a label, in all-caps, bolded, italicized, underlined and with exclamation points: “DO NOT GO!!!!!” No one, at least no one who lived to tell the tale, had ever navigated these rivers. Why? Because it was a really dangerously dumb idea. Still, it was there. So. We put a guy on it. A one-armed Civil War veteran by the name of Major John W. Powell who said (not really) whatever was the 19th Century equivalent of “Hey, man hold my beer, while I try this” and set off to see just exactly what was there. The answer? Hell.
UNTANGLING THE LEGEND OF JOHN W. POWELL
On a sunny day last October, our captain, Kent Tschanz, pulled on the oars to scoot us down the flat water of the Green River’s Labyrinth Canyon section. Tschanz is a dealer in rare books and collectibles. He put together the trip to help out historian Richard Turley who is working to float all the major sections of the Green and Colorado Rivers to research a series of books on Powell. This particular section, although stunningly scenic, isn’t as popular as others on both rivers that feature more thrilling (and dangerous) sections of whitewater, so it’s harder to hitch a ride. Tschanz volunteered his raft, along with his Rain-Man-level knowledge of western history and we set off to explore the Labyrinth together on what promised to be a very PBS/Ken Burns-ey trip. After a few hours of small talk I finally just asked Turley, “So Powell was just nuts right?”
Major John W. Powell; Courtesy Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division
“No.” Turley chuckled. “He was supposed to be a minister.” Turley is a now-retired historian for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints who, among many accomplishments, wrote a well-respected tome on the Mountain Meadows Massacre (Massacre at Mountain Meadows: An American Tragedy, with Ronald W. Walker and Glen M. Leonard.) Powell crossed paths with many of the notable (or notorious) figures prominent in that dark chapter in the history of the Mormons’ Utah.
“When I was working on the Mountain Meadows research, Powell kept showing up,” Turley said. “Brigham Young had written to his people in the Southern half of the state and told them to watch for debris from his first expedition.”
The son of an itinerant preacher from Shrewsbury England, who pressed him to become a minister, Powell eschewed the family business and became fascinated with geology, fossils and the natural sciences. As a young man, he restlessly explored the rivers and lands of the midwest. When the Civil War broke out, his experience earned him a commission in the Union Army as a cartographer, topographer and military engineer. At the Battle of Shiloh, commanding an artillery battery, Powell raised his right arm to give the order to fire and a Minie ball blew it to shreds. After the war, Powell’s fascination with the natural sciences became a passion that led him to a job as a curator at the Museum of the Illinois State Natural History Society. The post would allow him to do what he really wanted to do—meaningful science in the field. The field lay West.
Powell’s cameos in Utah history piqued Turley’s interest and, while plenty of ink has been spilled about Powell’s three (three!) expeditions through the Grand Canyon, including Powell’s own account, Turley took the bait and set out to write what he hopes will be a clarifying and enlightening set of books on Powell’s adventures. In 1875, Powell published a hefty tome, with a hefty title, Report of the Exploration of the Colorado River of the West and Its Tributaries. The book became the Urtext of the rivers’ exploration, but Turley is a man who jots his tittles and crosses his jots. “That book is the basis for so much of what has been written about Powell,” he said. “The problem with it is that Powell weaves all three trips together as if it was a single trip and it was his personal journal.”
One of Powell’s men sits at the Gates of Lodore. Courtesy Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division
Powell mashed-up the experiences primarily because he needed to make a splash for the United States Congress, his backers. He was constantly raising funds for his research and expeditions. But Turley believes that each expedition “is an adventure in itself” and deserves to be accurately conveyed.
“You have two sets of historians in Powell’s case, the academics and the river runners,” he told me. “Academics have largely relied on Powell’s book but you have these amateur historians but experienced river runners who have been there, seen what Powell says he saw and go, ‘yeah that doesn’t add up.’”
Although there is no possible way to actually re-create Powell’s trip—primarily because Powell and his men were running a wild river, there were no dams at Flaming Gorge and Lakes Powell and Mead—Turley has set himself to floating as many sections as he can and approximating what Powell and his men saw with his historian’s eyes.
THE GREAT SUCK
Powell’s first trip starting in 1869 was essentially a failure except for the fact that the Major and just two of the nine men he set out with actually survived. Powell was an experienced river pilot, but his experience was on the wide, flat rivers of the East. Basically, he had no idea what he was in for.
“There was a myth that somewhere along the river was something called ‘The Great Suck,’ a giant waterfall that descended into the depths of the Earth,” Turley said. “Powell was accustomed to running rivers over long stretches but he had no experience with whitewater.”
The Major outfitted himself with Whitehall boats, large wooden craft with flat bottoms, more suited for the Mississippi than the Green and Colorado. They carried a massive amount of supplies, including scientific equipment that Powell doggedly employed as his men eyed the dwindling supplies and long unknown ahead and grumbled.
“Powell knew enough about geology and the altitudes to estimate the drop in the river systems and thought with all of that descent, the river would not be as violent as the myths had suggested,” Turley said. “He prepared four boats and sat in a chair attached to one of the decks. He would look forward while his oarsman faced back.”
One of Powell’s Whitehall boats during his expedition. The heavy wooden boats were ill-suited for the adventure. Courtesy Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division
Lashed to the mast, as it were, Powell had to make calls at each rapid. They would either carry the heavy boats around in massive steep portages or send a rope down to follow through the unknown. One man left early on, one boat was lost at a place the expedition chillingly named “Disaster Falls.”
“And there was one disaster after another,” Turley said. “They realized they were going to run out of food, they were losing supplies and equipment, three men abandon him at Separation Point attempting to hike out to find a settlement. They were never heard from again. But he became a hero for just surviving—it was a Neil Armstrong kind of accomplishment. That reputation was helpful to raise money to return for his real goal, science.”
For the first trip, Powell had assembled a motley crew of mountain men and wanderers, trappers and hunters lured by the idea of discovering minerals and fresh fur sources as well as ample game along the way. That, as we say, did not pan out. The hunting was poor and prospecting was put on the back burner to merely surviving. So on his second and third expeditions, Powell returned with a more rounded-out crew, science and military men. He worked with the Mormons to arrange food drops along the route and although the latter expeditions were no less harrowing, Powell’s planning allowed him to accomplish his scientific goals.
John Wesley Powell at Green River, Wyo. where he and his men prepare to disembark for their exploration of the Green and Colorado Rivers and The Grand Canyon. Courtesy Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division
FLOATING IN JOHN W. POWELL’S WAKE
The October trip through Labyrinth Canyon was blessedly uneventful and a far cry from what Powell experienced. Powell and his men raced through that section with an eye on supplies and worry about what awaited them in the Grand Canyon. We enjoyed a much more leisurely pace.
Men at first camp on the Green River in Green River, Wyo. Courtesy Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division
“Today we have great equipment,” Turley said. “We have communication with people on the outside and ways of getting help. Past a certain point, Powell and his men had no way of getting help, no way of reprovisioning. There was very little game. They were repeatedly soaked, the boats were swamped or capsized. By the end they were taking out their sodden flour and straining it through cheesecloth, eating rancid apples and shreds of bacon. But these weren’t 21st Century men. They were accustomed to this idea of army discipline or mountain man discipline and somehow they got on. They were brave, no question but they were doing something that anyone today would think was foolhardy.” So, basically, Powell was nuts.
GREAT RIVER READS
We asked Richard Turley to recommend his favorite books about the Green and Colorado and Powell’s expeditions on the rivers. All are available, along with many more, at Ken Sanders Rare Books, 268 S. 200 E, SLC, 801- 521-3819
Best exciting read about modern-day river running along Powell’s route Kevin Fedarko, The Emerald Mile: The Epic Story of the Fastest Ride in History Through the Heart of the Grand Canyon (New York: Scribner, 2013). Best hardcore history to help unravel what really happened on Powell’s first trip Michael P. Ghiglieri, First Through Grand Canyon: The Secret Journals and Letters of the 1869 Crew Who Explored the Green and Colorado Rivers (Flagstaff: Puma Press, 2003). Best new book on Powell’s first trip Don Lago, The Powell Expedition: New Discoveries About John Wesley Powell’s 1869 River Journey (Reno: University of Nevada Press, 2018). Best book on Powell’s route on the upper Green River Roy Webb, Lost Canyons of the Green River: The Story Before Flaming Gorge Dam (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 2012). Best book on the photographs taken during Powell’s second and third trips Hal G. Stephens and Eugene M. Showmaker, In the Footsteps of John Wesley Powell: An Album of Comparative Photographs of the Green and Colorado Rivers, 1871-72 and 1968 (Boulder, CO: Johnson Books; Denver, CO: The Powell Society, 1987).
The Crew
THE CAPTAIN: Kent Tschanz is the co-owner of Tschanz Rare Books with his wife Katie. Kent has been active in the book trade since the late 1990s starting out at Sam Weller’s Books (where he met Katie) and then at Ken Sanders Rare Books.
THE GUIDE: Richard Turley is a historian and author. He worked from 2008 to 2016 as a historian for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, retiring in 2020 from the LDS Church’s communications department. He is researching a series of books about John W. Powell’s expeditions.
THE PASSENGER: Jeremy Pugh is the Editor of Salt Lake magazine, sporting sunnies from Rheos that he’d hoped would reflect the grandeur. He is also the author of 100 Things to Do in SLC (Before You Die) and the forthcoming guide book Secret Salt Lake (Spring 2021, Reedy Press). He will generally say yes to anyone offering a river trip. verydynamite.com
READ MORE by Richard Turley — Wagons West: Brigham Young and the First Pioneers. Salt Lake City, Deseret Book, 2016, with Lael Littke. Massacre at Mountain Meadows: An American Tragedy. New York: Oxford University Press, 2008. With Ronald W. Walker and Glen M. Leonard. Victims: The LDS Church and the Mark Hofmann Case. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1992.
It’s all over but for the shouting. The controversial annexation of 350 acres of land in Summit County by the municipality of Hideout was approved following a 3-2 vote by the Hideout Town Council, clearing the way for a mixed use development in Richardson Flat, east of Park City. The last impediment to annexation is the possibility for Hideout citizens to challenge the decision by filing a referendum in which town residents themselves would vote on the resolution. This provision was a requirement for Nate Brockbank, who holds the area’s development rights, to secure two of the three council votes for approval.
The unilateral annexation of land across county lines was only possible as the result of a short-lived state law passed during a special legislative session through H.B. 359. Sen. Kirk Cullimore (R-Sandy) introduced the amended bill with less than 75 words of explanation about what he intimated were technical changes in the provisions for municipal annexation. In actuality, the changes under the law allowed a municipality in one county to annex land from another county without approval under specific circumstances. This exact eventuality happened to mirror Hideout’s situation, which of course, raised some eyebrows.
Summit County and Park City officials, along with some members of the public, were outraged by what appeared a secretive lobbying effort in the service of special interests, and the law was quickly repealed in August by the very same legislators who had supported it. The Hideout annexation, however, was approved before the repeal went into effect on October 20.
That approval paved the way for 600 residences, 95,000-square-feet of commercial space, a town hall and various other parks and projects, including a chairlift to the highest point on Richardson Flat as detailed in the annexation master plan agreement, which the Hideout Town Council voted unanimously to pass.
Brockbank vigorously defended his actions during the Town Council hearing prior to the vote, repeatedly insisting he had done everything to the letter of the law. At one point he said, “If it’s dishonest to hire a lobbyist, then I’m a dishonest person,” before claiming, “People are against it because of the negative publicity that Summit County and Park City have done in the papers. They’ve destroyed me in the papers. They’re better at the B.S.”
And there’s the central issue at hand. The gulf between legality and propriety is, at times, vast. A reasonable case can be made that more commercial services are needed to meet growth in the area, where some 20,000 residential unit equivalents (2,300 of them in Hideout) are approved for development, especially if as Brockbank contends, it will serve regional interests. It’s the blatantly underhanded process that has irked many.
Perhaps outrage should be reserved for someone other than a private developer who owes the community little in the way of ethical responsibility. It’s the elected officials—like Sen. Kirk Cullimore who introduced H.B. 359 then claimed he was duped by the language in it—who let us down. Let’s not forget it.
Here’s the Timeline:
November 2019: Nate Brockbank and Wells Fargo Attorney meet with Summit County to discuss UPCM parcels SS-87 and SS-88 in Richardson Flat leaving out contaminated Superfund Site area.
November 2019: Summit County attorneys inform Brockbank subdividing the parcels and selling through a foreclosure is illegal.
January 2020: Nate Brockbank and Josh Romney submit an application for the development of Richardson Flatland to Summit County.
February 22, 2020: Brockbank acquires the disputed parcels for $8.55 million using company name “RB 248 LLC”
March 2, 2020: H.B 359 Introduced to amend Utah Municipal Code 10-2-402
March 28, 2020: H.B. 359 Signed by Governor Herbert
July 9, 2020: Hideout passes resolution announcing annexation intent and pre-annexation development agreement with Brockbank
July 14: Brockbank and Romney announce they’re stepping back from plans submitted to Summit County in January.
August 20, 2020: Amended language in H.B. 359 repealed with passing of H.B 6007
October 16, 2020: Hideout approves annexation and development plan prior to repeal of H.B. 359 taking effect.
On Friday, January 8, a 31-year-old man from Clinton, Utah was killed in an avalanche on the Park City ridgeline in Dutch Draw, a popular backcountry skiing area that is easily accessible from the Ninety-Nine 90 Express chairlift at Park City Mountain. It’s the fourth fatal accident in Dutch Draw in the past 15 years, and the second year in a row in which someone has been killed in an accident on the steep run known as Conehead. The tragic accident serves as a stark reminder of the inherent risks involved in backcountry skiing and has raised concerns in the community about how prevent avalanche accidents, particularly among people who are not aware of the dangers.
On the day of the avalanche, the victim Kevin Jack Steuterman and his girlfriend exited the backcountry access gate atop the Ninety-Nine 90 Express and hiked up the ridge before dropping in to snowboard down a run called Conehead. According to a report by the Utah Avalanche Center, Steuterman went first, and when he was about halfway down his girlfriend followed. An avalanche was triggered—it is not known by which rider. The woman was not caught in the slide, but Steuterman was caught, buried and ultimately killed. Rescue personnel responded to the accident when the woman called 911 immediately after the avalanche occurred, but due to risks posed by dangerous avalanche conditions they were unable to begin digging for the victim until after 2:00 p.m. Both riders had some experience in the backcountry, but neither were carrying avalanche rescue equipment at the time of the accident.
In the aftermath of avalanche accidents, it’s important to learn from the circumstances that led to them and avoid casting judgement or blame. The loss of life is tragic, and its incumbent on the community to unite in a positive way to prevent future incidents. This specific incident highlights the importance of avalanche education and preparedness, both with regards to assessing avalanche risk and carrying the appropriate gear to respond in the event of an avalanche.
A ski patroller we spoke with who was on the scene said a rescue of the victim in this particular accident could have been possible with the aid of properly equipped and trained partners. The patroller also said this accident was predictable due to recent avalanche activity in the area and the overall state of the snowpack, which features a considerable avalanche risk on a persistent weak layer of snow. Again, this is not to pass judgement on anyone involved but to stress that nobody should ever go backcountry skiing or snowboarding without the proper training and equipment, regardless of how inviting the snow looks or how many tracks are on a slope.
The area off Ninety-Nine 90 Express at Park City Mountain is a uniquely accessible backcountry area. Because of this easy access, the area in Dutch Draw and Square Top further north on the ridgeline are exceedingly popular for backcountry skiers and snowboarders. Additionally, since these areas are visible from chairlifts within the resort, they are also appealing to people who may not have the experience and equipment required to safely ski and snowboard there.
Park City Mountain, however, is not able to limit access based on a person’s qualifications. The resort borders National Forest and as such is required to offer an access gate. The gate is emblazoned with a skull-and-crossbones symbol and stern warnings about the dangers inherent to leaving the resort boundary. To less experienced skiers and snowboarders, however, this signage can be difficult to distinguish from other signage warning of unmarked hazards and expert terrain common to ski areas.
Some members of the community have argued more should be done to warn skiers who may be unaware of the gravity of the dangers posed by backcountry terrain. Suggestions range stationing resort personnel near the gate to verbally inform people of the risk to requiring skiers and snowboarders to check out with ski patrol and carry an avalanche beacon, shovel and probe. The latter approach is similar to what’s done at Snowbird with the gate in Gad Valley. This, however, requires Snowbird to control private terrain that does not directly touch to the National Forest boundary.
We reached out to Vail Resorts to see if revised procedures were possible or being considered. Jessica Miller, Senior Communications Manager for Park City Mountain responded via email, “Park City mountain places the highest value on the safety of our guests and employees. Within the ski area boundaries, Ski Patrol performs avalanche mitigation work and provides emergency response. Park City Mountain Resort does not prohibit public access to U.S. Forest Service lands outside the ski area boundary. Guests that access the backcountry from Park City Mountain must do so from designated backcountry gates that provide warnings and information about the inherent risks of backcountry travel. Park City Mountain does not manage the lands or the inherent hazards that exist outside its ski area boundary. Guests who access backcountry terrain do so at their own risk and are responsible for their safety. Guests leaving the Resort boundaries should be experienced and knowledgeable about backcountry travel, and be prepared with the appropriate gear and safety equipment.”
None of the concern surrounding the accident should be misconstrued as an effort to limit people’s access to the backcountry. I, myself, have exited the gate to go backcountry skiing on the Park City ridgeline countless times, and I vehemently believe people should have that right. Rather, the efforts are focused on helping ensure people who are unprepared and unaware of the risks associated with backcountry skiing and snowboarding aren’t unwittingly walking into dangerous situations because they see some untracked powder. Each of these accidents deeply affects the entire community, and we can all be part of a solution to ensure fewer people are injured or killed.
The current status quo, however, isn’t doing much to discourage unprepared people from leaving resort boundaries. It’s frankly surprising accidents aren’t more frequent when accounting the number of inexperienced people who access resort-adjacent backcountry terrain. If you want to go backcountry skiing or snowboarding, please put in the time to get educated and get the right equipment. Visit the Utah Avalanche Center website for information about how to get started and see current avalanche conditions.
When the lifts stopped spinning early last spring, we didn’t just lose out on pond skims and goggle tans. We also lost a mountain of revenue crucial to Park City’s feast and famine economy. The impacts were felt by both by private sector businesses which closed en masse and the municipal government which experienced a nearly $4 million shortfall. It was bad, and it was only going to get worse. Some halfwit writer for the very publication you’re reading prognosticated this was the big one that would uniformly decimate a fragile tourist-driven economy—it wasn’t my best take. Instead, the pandemic has made it abundantly clear ski town economies are anything but monolithic, and how the community fared has been anything but equitable.
For every bust, there’s been an equal and opposite boom. Unfortunately, the busts have been acutely felt by those most vulnerable to economic uncertainty and the booms are exacerbating long-standing issues of inequity most commonly associated with much larger population centers.
THE MISSING SALES TAX
Plummeting sales tax revenue is going to threaten the Park City Government, which leans heavily on collected revenue to fund day-to-day operations. Just how bad
is it going to be? These are the projected sales tax collection figures for 2020-21 as compared to the same time a year ago.
While unemployment numbers skyrocketed on the heels of ski season’s abrupt shutdown and a complete implosion of the tourism market, real estate prices and demand in the Park City area have risen dramatically. The fallout will only increase affordable housing shortages and the need for imported labor in the upcoming season as the funding for public services and infrastructure—which has tenuously made bearable the town’s traffic situation, among other things—dries up.
So, what happened when the pandemic struck? $153 million in spending that was expected over the final month of the ski season never came, and the shuttered resorts, hotels, restaurants, bars and shops led to an unemployment rate that spiked from 3.4 to 20.4 percent in Summit County, among the highest figures in the state. Private businesses and their employees faced the brunt of the immediate impact during the initial closure, which they’ve yet to fully recover from while operating at limited capacity. Even when Main Street seemed its most vibrant during lulls in the pandemic, Summit County Economic Development Director Jeff Jones estimated the county was operating at 70 percent of its economic capacity. As a result, the local government—which relies primarily on sales tax and property tax revenue for its fiscal solvency—is tightening its belt for tough times and predicting a $6.5 million shortfall in the town’s general fund.
The town is rebounding, but a complete recovery isn’t imminent until the corona virus is eradicated. The latest Department of Workforce Services figures available at the time of this writing showed the unemployment rate had fallen to 6.6 percent, still higher than Utah’s average but nowhere near peak levels. Arriving passengers at Salt Lake City International Airport, a key indicator for Summit County’s economic health, were down 58.3 percent. Restaurants, meanwhile, were seeing 35 percent fewer customers, though some were finding ways to adapt and remain profitable during a pandemic. If those numbers can hold as we move indoors and cases spike remains to be seen, but long-term economic prosperity will require the return of long-haul customers who fly to the area. Even the ski resorts that seem well-positioned to handle the upcoming winter—Vail Resorts, owner of Park City Mountain, has seen an 18 percent increase in season pass sales—are going to miss those $200 day ticket sales from the jet set.
But what of the housing? Would worldwide economic calamity alleviate the high-cost pressure of an inaccessible market? Quite the opposite. The boomtown to Zoom town transition hit Park City hard. People from out-of-state population centers, emboldened by the work-from-home revolution, flocked to the area to enjoy the lifestyle advantages of living in the mountains. They come bearing cash and have an appetite for the relative safety of the outdoors and single-occupancy vehicles.
The numbers are astonishing. In Snyderville Basin—where most growth is occurring and a majority of Parkites live—condo sales are up 36 percent from the same period in 2019 and the average sale price has increased 40 percent to $968,000. A Gallup Poll from the fall showed 60 percent of Americans are working from home, and two-thirds of them would like to continue doing so. Don’t expect this to slow down.
Eventually, the pandemic will pass, and tourism will return to peak levels. But by the time that happens, wealth will have further consolidated in the housing market, underscoring issues that already plagued the town. Creating a sustainable future in this new Zoom Town is a whole other discussion.
The controversial Hideout annexation of 350 acres near Richardson Flat has played out like a soap opera filmed on a moving rollercoaster over the course of 2020. Final say on the annexation will now fall to the residents of Hideout, who gathered enough signatures to force a referendum during a special election to be held on June 22, 2021. The Hideout Town Council voted 3-2 in October to approve the annexation, but developer Nate Brockbank and multiple councilors at the time supported letting voters have the final say with a referendum.
Tensions surrounding the potential annexation and planned mixed-use development on Summit County land have been high since the beginning of the process, when Hideout moved to unilaterally annex the land in Richardson Flat across county lines under the provisions of a short-lived law passed without public comment, H.B. 359. It didn’t help matters that Sen. Cullimore, who introduced the changes to H.B. 359 during a special legislative session, said the purpose of the changes had been misrepresented to him. Long story short, the whole thing reeked of impropriety, or at the very least a sneaky, special interest lobbying effort.
Park City and Summit County both lodged a series of lawsuits to block the annexation attempt, which was rescinded, altered and resurrected. There was hemming followed by hawing. Throw in a little harumphing on both sides, some accusations by opponents of the annexation and spirited defense by the annexation’s supporters, and ultimately the annexation was passed before H.B. 359’s repeal went into effect, but not without the provision for a possible voter referendum if enough signatures were gathered.
That brings us to now, where we once again are in limbo waiting to see what will happen to the land near Richardson Flat. If the annexation passes, the future holds substantial construction on the eastern edge of Summit county with a mountain of residential and commercial development. If it fails, the land will likely remain undeveloped for the foreseeable future. It’s all up to what residents of Hideout decide. Some agree the additional services are needed for the area’s growing population while others contend the underhanded process has derailed the possibility of mutually beneficial regional development and cooperation. You might as well flip a coin for a guess on how this will turn out.
At the very least we have six months to hear vociferous arguments from both sides, all of which will hopefully feature ample public input and civil, reasonable discussion. I realize that’s probably asking a lot from people in late-stage 2020. A vote, even if it’s not representative of all members of the public who will be impacted, is better than a unilateral decision-making process, so we’ve got that going for us. We will continue to update this story as things progress.
Maybe it’s because of their vaguely European aesthetic, like the gabled roofs on so many faux-Swiss ski chalets. Maybe it’s because the snow driving novices on vacation can’t be trusted to keep from skidding through busy intersections. Maybe the traffic planners around here are just really big NASCAR fans who fancy an endless counterclockwise flow. I don’t know what’s going on with all the traffic circles in Park City, but I know they’re everywhere.
Driving from the parking area at East Canyon to Kimball Junction to pick up some takeout in Kimball Junction, I drove through ten traffic circles. Yes, it could have been as few as three had I taken I-80, but this was back during some beautiful windows-down fall weather, so I turned up KPCW 91.7, cruised under the highway and along Kilby Road past the Skullcandy building. That’s a lot of traffic circles, a bounty that didn’t even include the crown jewel of the greater Park City area thoroughfares: the fabulous circle on Deer Valley Drive providing access to the Snow Park, Guardsman Pass and the Old Town transit center.
Let’s for a moment address the fact I realize a whole bunch of you call these loop-like intersection replacements roundabouts, and those of you from the Northeast inexplicably call them rotaries. Good for you. In Germany, they call them kreisverkehrs and Norwegians call them rundkjørings. Whatever quaint colloquialism you use to refer to traffic circles, I’d argue few, if any, mountain communities have tied their transit identities to eschewing the four-way stop quite like Park City.
The slew of traffic circles in PC has led to some spirited debate about their virtues—especially as the two new mammoth ones on either side of I-80 in Jeremy Ranch and Pinebrook took forever to finish—but we have a century of data showing where roundabouts shine. The Federal Highway Administration says traffic circles reduce the kind of dangerous head-on and right-angle collisions that cause serious injury and death by about 80 percent compared to traffic signal intersections. In a place where half the drivers distractedly gawk out the window at the mountains, that sounds pretty good.
Efficacy aside, Park City’s traffic circles give the town’s roadways an idiosyncratic identity that’s increasingly welcome in a world of homogenized resort communities. I think we can all appreciate a nice turn. This is a ski town after all.
How Do I Drive Through These Roundabout Traffic Circle Rotaries? Traffic circles come in all shapes and sizes, but don’t be intimidated because the rules are simple. Slow down and yield to pedestrians and vehicles from the left before entering the circle. If there’s more than one lane, use the left lane for what would normally be a left turn, the right lane for what would be a right turn and either lane to continue along the same road.
Summit County and Park City officials, along with some members of the public, were outraged by what appeared a secretive lobbying effort in the service of special interests, and the law was quickly repealed in August by the very same legislators who had supported it. The Hideout annexation, however, was approved before the repeal went into effect on October 20.
