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
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 the longest and most expensive urban gondola ever proposed.
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.
If you drive around the Cottonwood Heights neighborhood in Salt Lake City, which I have done multiple times over the last year, you will invariably see lawn signs shouting for "no gondola!" And the reason for this is that last summer, the Utah Department of Transportation (UDOT) came forward with its preferred solution to traffic congestion in Little Cottonwood Canyon: an eight-mile long gondola all the way up and into the mountains. If built, this would apparently be the longest and most expensive urban gondola in the world.
To try and explain why this is being recommended, I'll give the example of what happened to us when we were there last week. We drove into Little Cottonwood Canyon on Tuesday morning when it was not snowing. We left Park City around 8am, passed through the valley (Salt Lake City), and arrived at Snowbird (resort) in around 45 minutes. This is normally how long it takes. But on the way up it started snowing, and it didn't stop all day. (Nice!) So our drive home took significantly longer and looked like this (we were going 8-10 miles per hour all the way down):
This is what happens when it snows in the canyons. Which is why a wise bartender at one of the resorts advised us that, "on powder days, you need to leave the valley at 6AM. Because at some point, some asshole is going to think they can get up the canyon in a Tesla, and they will ruin it for everyone. It's better to nap in your car at the resort than white knuckle for 2-3 hours." During our drive home, we learned that he was not at all joking. This is what happens. And it is why UDOT wants to build one really long urban gondola.
There are, however, some very good reasons why urban gondolas aren't really that common. Portland has one. Medellín has one. And apparently both are quite successful. But other than these examples, they generally aren't thought of as the most effective tool in the transportation arsenal:
Gondolas are low-capacity vehicles that quickly get cramped if turned into high capacity ones. They don’t work well for multiple stops. As a result, they are a point-to-point transportation method with low capacity. They are also expensive, especially relative to how many people they might serve, making them financially unattractive options for most applications. At their best, gondolas work when traversing difficult terrain with a consistent but low ridership, which is why they’re most often deployed on ski resorts.
But this situation is maybe a bit unique. It's kind of urban transport, but really it's for people to get up the canyon and shred deep powder. Here's more on how it might work:
The Cottonwood Canyon gondola would be a hybrid of sorts between urban transportation solution and resort-based gondola. The proposal is to build a massive 2,500-spot parking garage at the base of the canyon, about 20 miles from downtown and the airport, where people will park. They will then ride the gondola for 27 minutes to Snowbird or 37 minutes to Alta, a trip duration which has no parallel in the urban or resort gondola scene (the Snowbird tram, one of the most famous in the world, fits more than 100 people per tram but takes less than 10 minutes to ride). Even though the gondola would serve two ski resorts, it belongs more to the urban gondola concept because it is being proposed and recommended by the state’s transportation department as a solution to a recurring traffic problem.
As a snowboarder, this sounds great. But it is, of course, complicated. Conservation groups are objecting, and some/many taxpayers don't want to pay for a gondola that will largely benefit two ski resorts. Especially one that doesn't permit snowboarders (I made this part up). So we'll see. A final decision is expected by UDOT this summer. In the meantime, if you're interested in urban gondolas, check out this recent article in Vice Magazine by Aaron Gordon (quoted above). He does a good job explaining both sides of this debate. And if you are interested in this topic, I'd be curious to hear whether you think this is a good idea or not.