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I've been reading this book before bed over the last few days. It's about the Wasatch Mountains in Utah, but more broadly it's about how snow works, why and where in the world epic storms happen, how not to get killed in avalanches, and how global warming is impacting our climate. It's written by Jim Steenburgh, who is professor of atmospheric science at the University of Utah and author of the blog Wasatch Weather Weenies. And I'm finding it really fascinating, even if there are limits to how granular I want to get on the science behind stellar dendrite snowflakes.
One of the main questions he answers is, of course, the title of the book: Why is the powder skiing and snowboarding so good in Utah? Is it in fact, the greatest snow on earth? (The State of Utah started using this very successful slogan in 1962 and it made its way onto license plates starting in 1985). It turns out that there's lots of science to support this claim, particularly when it comes to the Big and Little Cottonwood Canyons on the east side of the Salt Lake Valley. This is where you'll find resorts like Snowbird, Alta, Brighton, and Solitude.
Little Cottonwood Canyon has one of the most dramatic snowfall contrasts in the world. At its entrance in the valley, the average annual snowfall is about 100 inches. But drive 7 or so miles into the canyon to Snowbird (which during a snowstorm can be super treacherous), and the average annual snowfall increases to over 500 inches. Generally speaking, the average annual snowfall in the canyon increases by about 100 inches per 1,000 feet of elevation gain.
One of the reasons for this is that the terrain surrounding the Cottonwoods is both high and broad, which means that it is exposed to storm flows coming from nearly any direction. During "stable storms", this can also create a blocking front, where storms get caught on the windward side and continue to dump in one place, instead of passing over the mountain. This is one of the reasons why there's this saying: "It doesn't need a reason to snow in Little Cottonwood Canyon; it needs a reason to stop."
Another very snowy place in the world is Japan's Hokkaido Island. In fact, Jim argues that if there's any place that could give Utah a run for its money with the claim of the greatest snow on earth, it's here. Based on historical data, Hokkaido Island has a 90% chance of at least 100 inches of snow in the month of January. This is a lot more than Utah, though snowfall falls off more quickly outside of the peak months.
So statistically, if you want the highest probability of powder snow during the month of January, Hokkaido is the place for you. It also happens to be where we're going for our annual ski and snowboard trip this year. I'll be sure to report back and confirm whether this is true or not.
The last chapter in the book is on climate change and he starts by stating the obvious: global warming is real. The climate of the Wasatch Mountains today is demonstrably warmer than it was when they were mining silver in Little Cottonwood Canyon in the late 19th century. That is bad news for skiing and snowboarding, and already in the Western US, declines in the average snowpack below elevations of 8,000 feet have been observed.
The good news is that there's yet to be a clear and consistent trend above 8,000 feet (at least according to Jim when he wrote the first edition of this book about a decade ago). So stay high up, my friends. If you're interested in this topic, or climate in general, I would highly recommend you check out Jim's book. Or at the very least, his blog. I'm going to take my copy of the book and leave it at Parkview Mountain House the next time I'm there so it's available to everyone who visits. It's fascinating stuff.
Cover photo by Alex Moliski on Unsplash
It is Neat B's birthday this weekend and we are hanging out in Utah. Today, we hiked up to Cecret Lake, which is accessible from the Alta Ski Area in Albion Basin. Alta is a ski-only resort, so hiking is the only way that my kind -- snowboarders -- gets to see this area. The basin is known for its beautiful wildflowers and it didn't disappoint. Cecret Lake is also a watershed area for Salt Lake City. So as you hike up, there are signs telling you not to swim in the lake or do things like bath your dog. Because what goes into the watershed will end up in the faucets of Salt Lake City within 24 hours (according to the signs). If you haven't done this hike, I would highly recommend it. It's easy/moderate, and a great way to work up an appetite for In-N-Out Burger, which is a real treat for us Torontonians.
Every now and then somebody comes forward and proposes an urban gondola. The most recent one that I have heard about here in Toronto was this one from 2016 called the "Don Valley Cable Car." But like many gondola proposals, it sort of just disappeared. Probably because it wasn't entirely necessary. (I just checked their website and it is now down.)
However, there are rare instances where a gondola makes a lot of sense. Medellin, for example, has a very successful urban gondola system that my friend Alex Feldman wrote about, here on the blog, after a visit to the city back in 2014. In this case, the gondola was instrumental in connecting hill-side communities that were previously disconnected from the rest of the city.
Another less urbanized example is the one that Utah (Salt Lake County) is planning to build in Little Cottonwood Canyon. I wrote about this project back in March when I was there and, today, the Utah Department of Transportation announced their preferred mobility option. It is called Gondola Alternative B and, as far as I can tell, it is still
I've been reading this book before bed over the last few days. It's about the Wasatch Mountains in Utah, but more broadly it's about how snow works, why and where in the world epic storms happen, how not to get killed in avalanches, and how global warming is impacting our climate. It's written by Jim Steenburgh, who is professor of atmospheric science at the University of Utah and author of the blog Wasatch Weather Weenies. And I'm finding it really fascinating, even if there are limits to how granular I want to get on the science behind stellar dendrite snowflakes.
One of the main questions he answers is, of course, the title of the book: Why is the powder skiing and snowboarding so good in Utah? Is it in fact, the greatest snow on earth? (The State of Utah started using this very successful slogan in 1962 and it made its way onto license plates starting in 1985). It turns out that there's lots of science to support this claim, particularly when it comes to the Big and Little Cottonwood Canyons on the east side of the Salt Lake Valley. This is where you'll find resorts like Snowbird, Alta, Brighton, and Solitude.
Little Cottonwood Canyon has one of the most dramatic snowfall contrasts in the world. At its entrance in the valley, the average annual snowfall is about 100 inches. But drive 7 or so miles into the canyon to Snowbird (which during a snowstorm can be super treacherous), and the average annual snowfall increases to over 500 inches. Generally speaking, the average annual snowfall in the canyon increases by about 100 inches per 1,000 feet of elevation gain.
One of the reasons for this is that the terrain surrounding the Cottonwoods is both high and broad, which means that it is exposed to storm flows coming from nearly any direction. During "stable storms", this can also create a blocking front, where storms get caught on the windward side and continue to dump in one place, instead of passing over the mountain. This is one of the reasons why there's this saying: "It doesn't need a reason to snow in Little Cottonwood Canyon; it needs a reason to stop."
Another very snowy place in the world is Japan's Hokkaido Island. In fact, Jim argues that if there's any place that could give Utah a run for its money with the claim of the greatest snow on earth, it's here. Based on historical data, Hokkaido Island has a 90% chance of at least 100 inches of snow in the month of January. This is a lot more than Utah, though snowfall falls off more quickly outside of the peak months.
So statistically, if you want the highest probability of powder snow during the month of January, Hokkaido is the place for you. It also happens to be where we're going for our annual ski and snowboard trip this year. I'll be sure to report back and confirm whether this is true or not.
The last chapter in the book is on climate change and he starts by stating the obvious: global warming is real. The climate of the Wasatch Mountains today is demonstrably warmer than it was when they were mining silver in Little Cottonwood Canyon in the late 19th century. That is bad news for skiing and snowboarding, and already in the Western US, declines in the average snowpack below elevations of 8,000 feet have been observed.
The good news is that there's yet to be a clear and consistent trend above 8,000 feet (at least according to Jim when he wrote the first edition of this book about a decade ago). So stay high up, my friends. If you're interested in this topic, or climate in general, I would highly recommend you check out Jim's book. Or at the very least, his blog. I'm going to take my copy of the book and leave it at Parkview Mountain House the next time I'm there so it's available to everyone who visits. It's fascinating stuff.
Cover photo by Alex Moliski on Unsplash
It is Neat B's birthday this weekend and we are hanging out in Utah. Today, we hiked up to Cecret Lake, which is accessible from the Alta Ski Area in Albion Basin. Alta is a ski-only resort, so hiking is the only way that my kind -- snowboarders -- gets to see this area. The basin is known for its beautiful wildflowers and it didn't disappoint. Cecret Lake is also a watershed area for Salt Lake City. So as you hike up, there are signs telling you not to swim in the lake or do things like bath your dog. Because what goes into the watershed will end up in the faucets of Salt Lake City within 24 hours (according to the signs). If you haven't done this hike, I would highly recommend it. It's easy/moderate, and a great way to work up an appetite for In-N-Out Burger, which is a real treat for us Torontonians.
Every now and then somebody comes forward and proposes an urban gondola. The most recent one that I have heard about here in Toronto was this one from 2016 called the "Don Valley Cable Car." But like many gondola proposals, it sort of just disappeared. Probably because it wasn't entirely necessary. (I just checked their website and it is now down.)
However, there are rare instances where a gondola makes a lot of sense. Medellin, for example, has a very successful urban gondola system that my friend Alex Feldman wrote about, here on the blog, after a visit to the city back in 2014. In this case, the gondola was instrumental in connecting hill-side communities that were previously disconnected from the rest of the city.
Another less urbanized example is the one that Utah (Salt Lake County) is planning to build in Little Cottonwood Canyon. I wrote about this project back in March when I was there and, today, the Utah Department of Transportation announced their preferred mobility option. It is called Gondola Alternative B and, as far as I can tell, it is still
Here are the details in graphic form:
To summarize, though:
The system is being designed to carry 1,050 passengers per hour, with cabins departing every 2 minutes.
The gondola itself is expected to cost $370 million, but when you add in a new parking garage for 2,500 cars, tolling infrastructure on the existing State Route, and other improvements, the total all-in capital cost is projected to be $729 million. The route itself is somewhere around 10 miles, so let's call it $73 million per mile.
At the same time, the projected operating costs are relatively low at $8 million per year, so this option actually has the lowest 30-year lifecycle cost out of all the ones that were studied. The other alternatives included widening the existing roadway, enhancing the bus service, and adding rail. There was also one other gondola option, which was presumably called Gondola Alternative A.
If you're wondering why this is likely a good idea, check out my post from this past winter.
Here are the details in graphic form:
To summarize, though:
The system is being designed to carry 1,050 passengers per hour, with cabins departing every 2 minutes.
The gondola itself is expected to cost $370 million, but when you add in a new parking garage for 2,500 cars, tolling infrastructure on the existing State Route, and other improvements, the total all-in capital cost is projected to be $729 million. The route itself is somewhere around 10 miles, so let's call it $73 million per mile.
At the same time, the projected operating costs are relatively low at $8 million per year, so this option actually has the lowest 30-year lifecycle cost out of all the ones that were studied. The other alternatives included widening the existing roadway, enhancing the bus service, and adding rail. There was also one other gondola option, which was presumably called Gondola Alternative A.
If you're wondering why this is likely a good idea, check out my post from this past winter.
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