OCR Text |
Show A-18 Meeting and agendas The Park Record Sat/Sun/Mon/Tues, November 11-14, 2017 More dogs on Main TO PUBLISH YOUR PUBLIC NOTICES AND AGENDAS, PLEASE EMAIL CLASSIFIEDS@PARKRECORD.COM A rolling stone Notice is hereby given that the Summit County Board of Adjustment will NOT meet on Thursday, November 16, 2017 The next Board of Adjustment meeting is scheduled for Thursday, December 21, 2017 Notice is hereby given that the Snyderville Basin Planning Commission will meet in regular session Tuesday, November 14, 2017 Location: Sheldon Richins Building (Library), 1885 West Ute Boulevard, Park City, UT 84098 AGENDA Agenda items may or may not be discussed in the order listed. 4:30 p.m. Work Session 1. Discussion regarding potential regulations for the operation of Food Trucks in the Snyderville Basin Planning Area.– Ray Milliner, Principal Planner 2. Discussion regarding a potential amendment to the Use Table in the Snyderville Basin Development Code to allow a Maintenance Building Use in the Rural Residential (RR) zone.– Ray Milliner, Principal Planner 3. Discussion regarding a proposed Conditional Use Permit for a hotel and associated uses at the existing Colby School/Snowed Inn building in the Rural Residential Zone; PP-102-A-3. – Ray Milliner, Principal Planner Regular Session 1. Public input for items not on the agenda or pending applications. DRC Updates Commission Comments Director Items Adjourn A majority of Snyderville Basin Planning Commission members may meet socially after the meeting. If so, the location will be announced by the Chair or Vice-Chair. County business will not be conducted. To view staff reports available after Friday, November 10, 2017 please visit: www.summitcounty.org Individuals needing special accommodations pursuant to the Americans with Disabilities Act regarding this meeting may contact Melissa Hardy, Summit County Community Development Department, at (435) 6153157. 2. Discussion regarding integration of Affordable Housing within Silver Creek Village Center.– Jennifer Strader, Senior Planner 3. Approval of minutes: July 11, 2017 and August 22, 2017 By Tom Clyde Posted: November 9, 2017 Published: November 11, 2017 - Park Record PARK CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT COMPLAINT REVIEW COMMITTEE Wednesday, November 15, 2017 4:00pm-6:00pm The thing about rocks is that they are just so rocky. They are everywhere, but it’s hard to find one when you need one. I’ll be out in the field and see a gate post that needs a lose nail pounded back in. I could fix it right then and there if I could only find a palm-sized rock to use as a hammer. But there are none to be found. Then, a few weeks later in exactly the same place, I’ll hear the sickening sound of the perfect, palm-sized rock getting caught in the hay mower, mangling blades and rollers before getting spit out the other end. My property is very rocky. There’s a little dust on top, and then it’s river cobble all the way to China. There’s no shortage of rocks around here, except when I need special rocks. Last spring, the river went nuts with the huge snowpack. The flooding moved a lot of logs and washed out trees downstream, making logjams that changed the course of the river for a few days. Then the logjam would break, and it would all shift course again, ripping out trees and cutting new channels. A couple of huge logs rammed the headgate on the irrigation canal straight on. The angle iron frame was bent over flat and the cast iron part of the valve smashed. The river undercut the hillside the canal is cut into, and the whole thing was ready to fall into the river below. It was a mess, and the kind of mess that can only be fixed this time of year, at low flow. To get to the head of the canal, I have to drive up through a neighbor’s property on the opposite side of the river, and then pack everything across the river. That takes some big machinery and guys who know how to operate it. The excavator had a bucket about the size of a Subaru on it. I think the operator could have rolled a burrito with it. Big equipment aside, what I needed was rocks. The riverbed is nothing but rocks, but they are the wrong kind. They are round and smooth as bowling balls, and won’t stay where you put them. What I needed was some big, DeSoto-sized rocks, angular so they won’t roll away. In a lot of places, this kind of riverbank reinforcement was done with actual DeSotos. A big hunk of crushed car body will resist a lot of erosion. It’s a perfect In a lot of places, rocks just sit there. Not so in Summit County. Our rocks are on the move. solution, aside from the transmission oil leaking into the river and the general ugliness of it. We missed out on the junk car riprap era, primarily because of the difficulty of getting a truckload of flattened Buicks to the site. So it was all about rocks. In a lot of places, rocks just sit there. Not so in Summit County. Our rocks are on the move. There is a whole economy that deals in rocks. If you have to buy them from a quarry, they are terribly expensive. If you want them to be pretty, they cost even more. On the other hand, if you have dug a foundation for one of our new mansions, and have a pile of boulders you need to get rid of, rocks are free. So my neighbor, who also needed rocks, found a new mansion with a pile of surplus boulders in the yard. Then we had to line up a trackhoe big enough to load them, and a dump truck with the right kind of bed on it to haul them. Even free rocks get expensive when you start freighting them around. Amazon Prime doesn’t apply. There’s a kind of rock exchange system out there, like the stock exchange. There are always people who need rocks and others who have rocks they want to get rid of. Connecting them is the key. All the excavators in the valley know who is digging where, and they all know what the soil conditions are in different subdivision. Finding a guy who knew a guy who heard another guy had rocks to get rid of took some calls. Tyler had one kind of rocks, Rusty had another. Bob will have a bunch more in December when he starts another dig. There are boulder futures. Ironically, the place we got our gray, DeSoto sized-boulders from was eager to have those hauled away, while at the same time, they were paying big money to haul in rocks of a more tasteful hue for a retaining wall on their driveway. At any given time, the volume of rocks in motion in Summit County is pretty amazing. Sometimes the same rocks will get moved several times; off the lot they came out of, then parked somewhere else until somebody else needs a boulder for a retaining wall. A rolling stone . . . Tom Clyde practiced law in Park City for many years. He lives on a working ranch in Woodland and has been writing this column since 1986. 2060 Park Ave. Park City, UT 84060 AGENDA: o Introductions o Approve 9/8/17 Meeting Minutes o Policy Purpose and Procedures o Open Meeting Act Training o Case Study Training ADJOURNMENT A majority of Complaint Review Committee members may meet socially after the meeting. If so, the location will be announced by the Chair. Committee business will not be conducted. Pursuant to the Americans with Disabilities Act, individuals needing special accommodations during the meeting should notify the Executive Assistant to the Chief of Police at 435-615-5505 at least 24 hours prior to the meeting. Posted: See: www.parkcity.org Writers on the range By Bryan Sexton Arby’s fantasy game Earlier this month I was fortunate enough to kill a nice blacktail buck. I had been hunting off and on through deer season, and I saw lots of does every time I went out. With a little patience I knew I would finally cross paths with a good buck and have a chance to punch my tag. I was feeling good about my chances after the weather in Oregon’s Coast Range turned wet and cold in October, so I headed out to public land near the town of Cave Junction. By noon, the buck was dressed, skinned and hung out to cool and dry in my wood shed. My wife, Suzanne, needed to make a trip into Grants Pass so I took over the supervising of our young daughters. Worn out from the morning’s work, I decided that a little TV time was in order, and within minutes a commercial ran for Arby’s new “venison sandwich.” My 5-year-old asked, “Daddy, what’s venison?” I explained that venison is deer or elk meat. “Oh,” she said, “just like our deer?” Well, no, not exactly, I replied. In fact, it’s not even close. An entire industry based on raising and harvesting traditional game meats has evolved over the past several decades. There are thousands of game farms in the country, and hundreds of them in the West. Arizona, California, Colorado, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, Utah, Texas and Wyoming — all provide venison to restaurants and grocery stores. But rather than roaming wild, these animals are raised behind tall fences as if they were domestic cattle or sheep, and they are butchered, packaged and sold in much the same manner. We know that these game farms help spread the disease known as chronic wasting disease, or CWD, to herds of wild game. This deadly disease spreads most easily through captive populations, but it also makes its way into the wild, spreading both through contact, when wild animals touch game animals “through the fence,” and through domestic animals that escape. The problem has been clear for a while, and many groups are working to find ways to stop the spread of the disease. Technically, a deer or elk in the wild is the same as an animal raised in a pen. But the actual Technically, a deer or elk in the wild is the same as an animal raised in a pen. But the actual differences are immense. differences are immense. Imagine a wild turkey that scratches out a living in the forest, surviving on bugs and berries. It has no white meat to speak of; its meat is dark from the vascularization of well-developed muscles. Compare that to the Thanksgiving birds we buy from the supermarket — monstrosities that are raised to boost their fat and juiciness content. Factory-farmed turkeys sport giant white breasts with pathetic wings that have never moved. Fenced elk also differ from their farm-raised kin. You can tell by their antlers: They are white in game-farm animals because they are never used, but in the wild they’re black, because the elk sharpen them on trees, the better to fight other elk. Wild game is unique, and the experience of hunting an animal and bringing it home for meat makes it something that transcends “meal prep.” Call me a snob, but I have to take a deep breath every time I hear someone say, “Oh, you hunt, I just love elk. I had it at a restaurant in Montana.” I guarantee that the elk that diner tasted, while probably delicious, was an inherently different beast from the animal my wife and I packed out of Nevada’s Jarbidge Wilderness last year. What Arby’s is selling is a fantasy of wild animals running free until they are hunted down and turned into dinner. Arby’s is also selling the idea that its sandwiches connect ordinary people to someone like the charismatic hunter Steven Rinella, who has his own television show, without requiring any of the hard work it takes to kill, butcher and process a large animal. Arby’s might put a piece of meat between two pieces of bread and call it venison, but I don’t think that piece of meat deserves the name. At least Arby’s venison is said to come from domestic red stag in New Zealand, so the company is not supporting an industry that spreads disease to wild deer and elk here in America. But it is normalizing the consumption of game meat in a national ad campaign without acknowledging any of the potential dangers involved in the game farming industry. Before they saw Arby’s TV ads, how many people even knew that they could buy venison? It will be interesting to check whether the sales of game meat from online vendors flourish as a result of this ad campaign. Why knows: Maybe McDonald’s will get on board and offer us a special “Big Moose.” Brian Sexton is a contributor to Writers on the Range, the opinion service of High Country News (hcn.org). He manages a medical clinic in Grants Pass, Oregon, and also volunteers for Backcountry Hunters and Anglers. sunday in the Park By Teri Orr Disaster and delight It was the F-2-ing that came first. I was woken up by a piercing noise – not quite a smoke detector sound but annoying and beeping nonetheless. I walked downstairs bleary-eyed, toward the sound. It was the computer panel — blinking F-2 and emitting that beeping. I turned off the panel and told myself the extended years of life support had ended. I knew in my heart the stove was dead. “F-2 to you too!” I hissed at the stove in an unkind benediction. Two of the burners had failed in each of the glass top panels in the summer. I knew they would need to be replaced soonish, but I live alone. I wasn’t cooking any holiday meals for … Halloween. It could wait. I could wait. After spending far too many hours (maybe three) in Home Depot and Lowe’s and online, I ordered a new stove. After nothing but electric for nearly 40 years I went with gas to get the stove with the features I wanted — that fit in my tiny slide-in dollhouse-size space. I was going to be gone for ten days and I asked a friend who helps me with repairs and stuff to take a look at a few things around the house. And he did — when he discovered the warped floor boards I had ignored and the puckered paint behind the curtain from the ice jam last winter. Painting and new floors can no longer be ignored. Sometime in my travels — I discovered when I returned home again, I had broken my back-up reading glasses — across the bridge — in half. I discovered this when I went find those back-up glasses because my regular reading glasses had unscrewed a side piece and liberated it. I had the monocle/opera glass look going on. When I backed out of the garage I decapitated my antenna box on the roof of my car. Limited now to a microwave I have used perhaps half a dozen times a year to reheat my tea, I heated up canned soup a couple of nights for dinner. Then I had some fancy soup from Whole Foods that came in a pouch. I would have boiled it on the stove, of course, to get warm. But without a burner because I had no stove, I simply tore open the package and poured it an a bowl and stuck it in the microwave. It was not intended to be heated that way. When I returned from watching the tiniest piece of the news — I saw the soup had somehow exploded inside the glass space. I considered this collateral damage to be able to eat under these conditions. So I started to search for crackers. For the past 20 years there have been more adventures for me than all the rest of my years combined. Because the gas guy had to add a pipe and connected the line to where the new stove will be, we had to move all the foodstuffs out of the pantry where the crawl space is under. So I strolled to the living room to find the crackers — as you do — and in the new normal, I pulled them out of the box and sat on the arm of the couch where a bunch of framed artwork was stacked because of the painting now taking place. The damaged carpeting will also be torn up and replaced, finally, with dark wood floors. I blame Africa for this. After returning from my first ever trip there this summer, I looked around my home of many colors and my stuff, and thought good lord! how have I lived like this for so many years? I have given away bags of clothes. Thrown away piles of paper-related things. I am evaluating the continued service of every piece of furniture in my home — most are antiques and have been with me since my twenties. Which was a very, very long time ago. I have a need to not need so much. Once the pictures were removed from the walls — during the painting prep process — they all looked wrong. The warm white walls are radically different from the former pink and green ones. Those things that I framed that told stories of my past are not are not all friendly ghosts. Some are passive and dated of course. And some are cherished moments of a trip. In fact, anything that seems to be making the cut appears to represent an adventure. For the past 20 years there have been more adventures for me than all the rest of my years combined. My life has been kinda upside down from most people. When I was younger I was raising babies and running a business. When the kids left home I started leaving too. Sometimes for a weekend in the desert. Sometimes for meandering trip up north. And sometimes with no destination in mind whatsoever. But be it ever so humble I do love my crazy tiny home. It is safe and warm and dry and I have fabulous neighbors and a yard and a porch and windows that let in light and have views of the mountains that surround us. I know there are folks who would have taken earmarked resources and made all the home repairs over time and managed their choices with professional help and solid intentions. But my life just never follows a playbook. And when the universe gangs up and says “Pay Attention,” that’s seems to be when things change in my life. And while I find all this annoying to do at once and far more expensive than I had any plans for — in the next five years — it is a bit like looking at a map in a National Park — You Are Here. And Here — is a place with adventures ahead and a home base that is becoming more reflective of my heart, each crazy unpredictable day. Including this very Sunday in the Park... Teri Orr is a former editor of The Park Record. She is the director of the Park City Institute, which provides programming for the George S. and Dolores Doré Eccles Center for the |