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Show A-12 The Park Record Utah’s portable classrooms could be risky, experts say Associated Press SALT LAKE CITY – Portable classrooms used by hundreds of Utah students every day could be risky without a set of uniform standards, engineering experts said. Leaders of state civil and structural engineering groups issued a statement on Jan. 17, urging officials to adapt new standards on the modular buildings used by schools and offices, the Salt Lake Tribune reported . The groups said any structure used more than 180 days should be considered permanent and be subject to rigorous structural codes. “At the minimum, Utah schools should adhere to the code more strictly by securing portable classrooms to the ground with use of a permanent footing and foundational system,” said Matt Roblez, a past president of the American Society of Civil Engineers Utah Section. “Until this code can be properly enforced, Utah should write an adopted standard for schools to follow.” Natalie Grange, an assistant state superintendent for the Utah Board of Education, said the ground portable classrooms are placed on is studied beforehand to check seismic and soil conditions, but she said the structures are not required to be on a permanent foundation. The structures are commonly used as a cheap fix when school districts run out of classroom space. Utah’s two largest school districts, Alpine and Davis, operate 363 and 347 portable classrooms, respectively. Davis School District spokesman Chris Williams described the modular units as a necessary evil. “We wish we could get away from them, but as you see from the numbers, 347 of them, we use them quite a bit,” Williams said. “We definitely make sure that it’s safe for people to occupy them.” State officials urged to plan for Utah’s population boom Associated Press SALT LAKE CITY – A regional planning group told local leaders that Utah’s rapidly growing population could double commute times, ramp up housing costs and amplify air quality problems in the coming decades without careful planning along the Wasatch Front urban core. Executive Director of the Wasatch Front Regional Council Andrew Gruber warned a crowd of mayors, city council members and other local officials of the looming population boom Tuesday at the Wasatch Choice 2050 + Mayor’s Metro-Solutions Symposium. Utah’s population is projected to hit more than 5 million by 2050, the Deseret News re- ported. “Growth. We keep hearing about it,” Gruber said. “It’s this omnipresent issue. We have been growing, we are growing today, we will continue to grow in the future, and we have all that growth occurring here in the Wasatch Front – we’re bounded by the mountains on one side and then the lake and the mountains on the other. Gruber said local leaders strategically working together to plan for the future and build smarter communities – with more housing options, prioritizing open space and more transit-oriented developments, with a variety of transportation choices. Salt Lake County Mayor Ben McAdams announced the Wasatch Choice for 2050 vi- sion, an initiative to encourage cities and counties to work together to plan for the population boom along the Wasatch Front. The Wasatch Choice 2050 vision is in draft form, Gruber said, so he’s hoping residents will give input on what they want for their communities. “If we don’t coordinate with cities and counties, you’ll see wasted tax dollars first and foremost,” McAdams said. “You’ll have an investment – maybe a road widening in one city that bottlenecks in the next city.” If cities and counties work to implement the goals of the Wasatch Choice 2050 vision, residents could have access to 57 percent more jobs within 30 minutes of their homes in the next 30 years, Gruber said. Wed/Thurs/Fri, January 31-February 2, 2018 Core samples By Jay Meehan Wrapping Sundance “In darkness there is light.” ~ Henerishi It was the best of times, it was the worst of times -- a tale of two festivals. Nah, too Dickensian. Anyway, it wasn’t about best and worst as much as light and the tranquil absence thereof. Early in the first week, you kill time between films loitering in whatever shadow avails itself. It’s all about keeping ambient light at bay -- ducking inside the head envelope of your “hoodie” or “slicker,” slogging toward the venue in your crosshairs, your comfort zone a solo act. You mutter to yourself about your last film preview or review and the ones in the wings. Not that it’s an angstrich environment or anything. You’re not exactly interpreting the art-in-question, just what it was like to rub up against it. The old adage that “writing about music is like dancing about architecture” always hovers near the surface. Contemplation over a beverage is not unheard of. Neither is ending a sentence with a preposition. For whatever reason, possibly due to sponsorship product placement, Stella from Belgium has long been a favorite Sundance companion. One particular afternoon, our bonding was such that it was suggested we get a room. For whatever reason, with each succeeding round, I find my backpack-wares gaining in assertiveness while spreading themselves across Urethane-coated saloon tabletops. Once again, the latest from John Le Carré finds itself butt-welded to assorted festival swag of dubious distinction. Jotting down random thoughts in one of those lined spiral notebooks adds to the overall sense of peace. If I’m not reading or making notes, cobwebs begin to appear on the edges of the frame. While checking out the print film-guide, I notice a scheduling conflict between a panel discussion of interest and an act performing onstage at the Music Café. A few quick hand gestures later and resolution arrives on the arm of one of Stella’s sisters. Family is everything. Figuring that I could always use a virtual reality fix, I point The old adage that ‘writing about music is like dancing about architecture’ always hovers near the surface.” myself toward that quirky zone where the New Frontier folks have circled their wagons. Of course, the sirens call of Dolly’s bookshop and the cul-desac of its “Fiction” aisle intercept those best laid plans. I’m at home there, safe and snuggled in a print cocoon. My original target on the back wall had been Pynchon but another word-loon soon caught my eye. William Gibson got a grip on me back in the day and quickly has me locked in that familiar motherboard VR of his own making. By the time I bid adieu to the “stacks,” the Cosmos have flipped and I’m no longer a lone wolf on the prowl. It’s late in the second week of the Film Festival and it’s snowing and I’m on a “Theater Loop Shuttle” with a longtime crony and one of her partners in crime. No longer re-shaping shadows, I’m actually engaged with fellow film buffs. How novel. I’m the “Doc-head” in the group, the others, not necessarily so. We’re off to see a documentary that the radical in me characterizes as a century-old act of corporate terrorism. The old mining border town of Bisbee, Arizona reenacted a 1917 mass deportation of mostly immigrant miners and the re-visitation of the incident has been captured on film. The following day has us deposited in the very last row of the Eccles Center balcony for “Blaze,” wherein actor/author/ filmmaker Ethan Hawke spins a three-prong outlaw-country yarn utilizing life incidents of the late Blaze Foley to tell a larger story. Hawke is like that. Gonzo, indeed. It takes a while to “come down” from Sundance, the transformation both welcome and less so. You miss interviewing those on the inside and the access afforded by a “Press Pass” but there’s also something to be said for lazing about at home in the foothills twenty miles away. There is an understanding that, while locals share both an attraction and repulsion to the annual inundation of filmfolk, it’s become, at least in the culture-sphere, a large part of the Park City vibe. Myself, I choose to partake. I sit in the dark, therefore I am. l Jay Meehan is a culture junkie and has been an observer, participant, and chronicler of the Park City and Wasatch County social and political scenes for more than 40 years. Writers on the range By Eric Balken Utah plans a big gulp of the Colorado River While states along the Colorado River plan for future shortages, Utah is betting on a big new diversion of water stored behind Glen Canyon Dam. It’s called the Lake Powell Pipeline, and last month the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission accepted Utah’s licensing application to drain water from the reservoir. The federal agency’s acceptance triggers a new environmental analysis and public comment process for what would become the largest new diversion of the Colorado River. Costing billions of dollars, this would also be one of the state’s most expensive infrastructure projects. Developers sell the pipeline as vital to the growth of the St. George region in southern Utah. More accurately, it is an effort to put yet another straw in the Colorado before it runs dry. In the decade since Utah’s Legislature voted to build this pipeline from Lake Powell to southwest Utah, there has been endless debate about its supposed need. The 140-mile pipeline would pump 77 million gallons of water daily to Washington and Kane counties even though they consume water at twice the national average. Still, proponents insist growth will be stifled without it. In addition, the project’s economics are a nightmare. A 2015 study from the University of Utah, backed by 17 economists, showed it would be financially unfeasible. For the counties to pay back the currently estimated $1.8 billion cost, plus interest, they would have to raise property taxes, charge users impact fees and spike water rates by over 500 percent. While pushing full-bore to make the pipeline a reality, the state has neglected to provide a repayment plan to the federal government. During the permitting process, FERC repeatedly asked Utah to provide information on project costs, repayment, and impacts to local economies. The state responded that a finance plan would emerge “well in advance of the 90 days prior to construction.” Given that the current water needs of southwest Utah are nowhere near enough to justify this project, and that every economic analyses shows it to be wildly unrealistic, one might ask why this fiscally conservative state is pushing it at all? The answer is that Utah Utah’s Division of Water Resources is steering the state into a water battle it can’t win. The pipeline’s intakes even aim to suck water as low as dead pool, a level so low the dam can’t even release water.” is staking a claim in the river before it’s too late. The river has been over-allocated since its water was originally divvied up in the early 20th century, and climate change is only worsening the problem. The river has seen below-average runoff for most of the last two decades, with this year lining up to be one of the worst yet. Combined storage in Lakes Powell and Mead is 48 percent of capacity, and flows are predicted to further plummet by 35 percent over the next century. California, Arizona, Nevada and Mexico are nearing agreement on a drought-contingency plan wherein each party is preparing to take less water than their legal allotment — a bold measure to prevent the river’s demise. Yet here is Utah pushing forward with its pipeline so it can legally claim the water will be put to “beneficial use.” Historically, those who put water to use are the ones who get to keep a water right. Utah, Colorado and Wyoming have not been using their full allotment of the river because their populations are relatively small and far from the river itself. Utah’s diversion may be the most high-stakes attempt at tapping the river before drought forces future cuts. When asked about the Lake Powell Pipeline last month, Brad Udall, a climate scientist based at Colorado State University, said, “In law, (Utah is) allowed to do that. But it’s like doubling down on a bad bet, and it’s just going to make the pain all the more serious if and should we have to deal with large declines in flow.” Utah’s Division of Water Resources is steering the state into a water battle it can’t win. The pipeline’s intakes even aim to suck water as low as dead pool, a level so low the dam can’t even release water. At that point, however, all Colorado River users in the Lower Basin would no doubt face drastic delivery cuts. In the last century, water-diversion schemes like the Lake Powell Pipeline were a sure way for states to develop and stake claim to water rights. But in the modern West, where drought and shortage rule, it amounts to a brazen gamble of public funds that flies in the face of regional conservation efforts. The public can submit comments on this proposal by Feb. 11, 2018, by visiting https:// www.ferc.gov/docs-filing/efiling.asp and using the project number 12966-044. Eric Balken is a contributor to Writers on the Range, the opinion service of High Country News (hcn.org) He is the executive director of the Glen Canyon Institute in Salt Lake City. |