Bonneville Power, Wind, and Surplus Energy

When people think of the Pacific Northwest they may think of Seattle and Portland and their associated populace. They may also think of volcanoes, the spotted owl, old-growth temperate rain forest, or the perpetual battles over dams and salmon in the Columbia-Snake watershed. While there are many things to be said about all of those topics, today I mean to discuss something that less associated with the region (in large part because it is generally an issue only in the sparsely populated Eastern regions of Washington and Oregon), wind power.

While many are probably aware of the presence of dams in the region and their importance to regional electricity generation (and their effect on endangered salmon), it is less well known that there is a growing wind energy sector in the high desert areas of central Washington and Oregon. While both hydropower and wind are generally thought of as "renewable" resources because they do not emit carbon dioxide or other greenhouse gases, most dams are not as environmentally friendly as they are sometimes portrayed (and have a host of complications and serious effects on river health and aquatic animals and plants), though they are on the whole more desirable than coal-fired plants. In the Pacific Northwest the relationship between dams and wild salmon is particularly fraught, with long-running legal challenges and battling scientific evaluations pushing back and forth over which dams should be re-worked, which decommissioned and removed, and how much water must be allowed to flow through to facilitate both up- and down-stream migration of the anadramous fish. When America's inadequate and aging electric grid and an expanding wind sector get dragged into it as well it only serves to complicate all the issues further, but provides a valuable example of why we need to upgrade to a smart grid that is connected to a more diffuse electric generation system.

This particular issue began last spring when the Columbia River had unusually high water levels and the Bonneville Power Administration claimed that it needed to let more water through its generators than normal in order to keep river conditions suitable for newly hatched salmon fry heading downriver to the sea. Because of the way dams are designed, this meant any water let through the generators had to be used to generate electricity (spillways would not have worked in these circumstances the agency claimed because they would have caused too much turbulence for the fry to tolerate). This led to BPA hydropower surging into the grid which would have been overloaded had the agency not ordered local wind projects to suspend operations in an inversion of the usual order of operations (in which dams release more water to generate power during times when the atmosphere is too still). This, naturally, upset the wind project owners, especially since BPA did not make any efforts to direct surplus wind power to fossil fuel driven plants in the grid area, a practice called negative pricing, that is common in other areas of the country.

Now there has been a resolution to the dispute. The Federal Energy Regulatory Commission ruled that the BPA was wrong in its actions and was required to rewrite its rules for handling future occurrences of surplus power. How the monetary damages will be distributed between the wind producers and BPA has not yet been finalized.

While having a truly national energy grid would be greatly helpful in eliminating these sorts of situations, where local production is so great that it threatens to overwhelm the system and cannot be exported because of transmission bottlenecks or other issues, that will not completely solve the problem or eliminate conflicts or risk. Denmark has had problems where its large coastal wind installations have generated so much power the nation's grid cannot absorb it all and it must actually pay its neighbors to take it off its hands. While this is rare in the United States and Canada, it can occur and is common in some areas (as I mentioned above). A national grid run by a unified, central system (whether governmental, intergovernmental, public-private partnership, or concerted private action) will largely eliminate the need for such practices except under the most exigent circumstances (though people still need to agree that power lines can and should be built and then decide where to put them so that they are effective but also do the least harm to both the built and natural environments). Additionally, we must continue to invest in research on ways to store energy produced during daylight or windy hours for use during off-hours that might still have high demands from consumers. This must include traditional ideas of storage like batteries as well as research on more innovative ideas like molten salt reserves, thermal gradients, repurposing, and other methods that may not yet have been devised. And, to show that I am not vilifying BPA, I'll finish by recognizing some of the innovative work it is doing in this area. While that doesn't excuse their behavior (and I feel justified saying that since the FERC smacked them down), or get them out of vigilant monitoring, there are far worse environmental and economic actors out there, especially in the realm of energy production. And it goes to show how complicated things can get when you start combining incredibly powerful and important agencies and laws with unexpected circumstances and infrastructure devised to serve the needs of a bygone era.

Arches

So over New Year's my boyfriend and I went out to Arches National Park in the Red Rocks country of southern Utah. And it was beautiful and relaxing and immensely enjoyable. Far nicer than going to an overcrowded bar and paying way too much for drinks. While there were far more people than I would have expected for the middle of winter, the park was by no means crowded. In fact it was quite easy to avoid people entirely by taking trails that were even moderately difficult or by getting started for the day at sunrise while others waited for it to get warmer. (The weather in December and January is generally quite nice, highs in the 40s and lows in the 20s, much nicer than the regular 100+ days present in the summer season). While I often started the day with several layers, and finished it the same way, once I started hiking and the sun got higher I quickly shed them for lighter gear. Much more pleasant and easier to try to get warm than stay cool, though the dry air, even when cold, dehydrates you faster than you realize.

While we didn't slip and fall this sign is quite accurate, the rocks are very slippery.

For a park that is only three hours from Salt Lake and six from Denver and has a high yearly attendance, going at a time that minimizes crowds certainly is a priority. This is another point in favor of going in the off-season. Many trails are loops or out-and-back and therefore quite prone to congestion and crowding. As it was there was one place, Delicate Arch (famous from Utah's license plate) where the number of people all wanting to get photographed with the formation almost prevented us from getting a quality picture (I snuck mine in during the only 30 second window no one was standing in it). The rest of the park generally had some people, we were only alone on our early hikes, though there was none of the traffic or half-mile car lines waiting to park at some trailheads that some road signs indicated could occur during summer.

 

Delicate Arch

The amenities in the park are quite good. A new visitor center has excellent and interactive geology and wildlife exhibits that are accessible to kids but not boring to adults. There are also, during summer, numerous ranger-led programs including tours of the Fiery Furnace area of the park (off-limits without a special permit and inadvisable to those without knowledge of the area due to its maze-like nature and the fragility of the desert soils). Sadly we were not able to hike in the Fiery Furnace or do backcountry camping or hiking. Those will have to wait until our next visit, perhaps one that will add Colorado National Monument and Canyonlands, both nearby. There is only one campground that is first come, first served in the winter and by reservation in summer. It is quite beautiful (the best views are from the sites 20-25) but could be improved by better enforcement of park policies and the separation of trailers/RVs from tents, but those are minor issues in the grand scheme and were addressed more fully in my most recent post.

Part of the Fiery Furnace

In addition to its stunning geology the park also has the standard desert flora and fauna (we didn't see any rare ones but did see plenty of critters and the beautifully weathered desert plants, especially Utah juniper). It also has easily accessible prehistoric petroglyphs and rock art, as well as markings made by Spanish explorers and settlers. Unfortunately these are faded now because they were vandalized in the 1980s and the restoration process reduced their vibrancy. Still, well worth seeing (and a surprise to us).

Seeing cacti covered with snow was unexpected.

Junipers are long-lived and self-prune dramatically to conserve water leading to their beautiful, weathered appearance.

 

Some of the petroglyphs at Arches

It really doesn't do much justice to the park to describe it or even to post pictures, particularly since when you are there almost everything you see is so stunning you feel the need to photograph it. Indeed, it is difficult at times to put the camera away and just appreciate the place for what it is, but I did manage to do that at least a few times while I was there. I'll post a few more pictures of my trip but you'll just have to go for yourself.

Sunset from our campsite

The famous Landscape Arch

The spectacular Double Arch with Andrew for scale

Me looking off during a break on the Dark Angel trail