California Utilities Still Freeloading on Independent Power Producers - Part II

Two years ago, I wrote California Utilities Still Freeloading on Independent Power Producers, which you really should read because it is a riveting story about corporate greed. I left this opening for a sequel:

One small bright spot on the horizon: "If the CEC authorizes retroactive RPS certification of net surplus generators, the utilities may retroactively pay the renewable attribute adder to its eligible customers." Which means that I may get some additional compensation someday--maybe.

 That was two years ago. I had completely forgotten about being ripped off for $136 by Southern California Edison (SCE). The worst kind of pickpocket is one that is richer than you, and gets the government to hold you down while they do it.

The First Rain

The first rain of the season. The last day of summer. Tomorrow at 1:44 pm, the sun will be directly over the Earth's equator, marking the beginning of autumn, and the start of the cooler rainier season in California.

Yesterday there was some drizzle. But the rain didn't start until about 11 pm last night. About twelve hours later blue sky reappeared overhead in between the clouds, with Mount Barnabe reporting 0.7 inches and Woodacre reporting 1.3 inches. The clear plastic container in our yard, first used to dispense salsa, now normally used to collect raspberries and dig in the sand and pour water in the pool, collected close to two inches, but it has a convex bottom that is displacing water. When I turn it upside down (quicker than pouring it into another container, measuring both diameters, and adjusting the depth with a ratio), it is about 1.25 inches deep. That confirms my feeling that the Woodacre total looked more like what we got here, at the mouth of Larsen Creek.

The last time it rained--not counting foggy drippy days--was on June 25th, almost three months ago. A typical summer. About an inch of water fell from the sky that day. That was the first rain of the summer, and this day was the last. It has rained twice since the sun was at its furthest point north in its annual analemma.

The first rain of the rainy season is always magical, because something significant happens that hasn't happened for a quarter of a year. But today feels more special than usual. June was our wettest month since December (until now). Last fall was wet, but then it just stopped raining in January, depriving us of most of the rainy season's rain. This was the second of two relatively dry winters in a row.

So today's rain is a big deal. It isn't just the first rain to wet the dusty soil since June. It isn't just the first rain to wet the dry yellow grass on the hillsides. It isn't just the first rain to connect all the disconnected pools in San Geronimo Creek, where the fish and crayfish wait out the long, warm days of late summer. It is all these things, but it is more. It is the first September rain in a year where it is the most rain since December, following a dry year.

Last October's rain ended the 2012 dry season. That dry season also lasted since June, but was preceded by 15 inches that March (wet), 8 inches that January (almost average), and almost 3 inches in February (dry) and in April (wet).

If you look at the flow in San Geronimo Creek, which represents late-summer groundwater conditions, the flow this summer was only 1/2 to 3/4 what it was last summer. It has been dry.

And I am grateful for the rain.

Connectivity

Touch any water anywhere, and you are touching all the water on the planet. Aside from water locked in tanks and bottles and closed geologic formations, of course. But when I touch the water in the stream in my backyard, that water is touching every lake and river and ocean on the planet. Although they are all touching, the water bodies of the world are separated by chemistry (salinity, pH), temperature (ice), pressure (water vapor), and saturation of different media (our bodies, plants, soil, air). These barriers prevent aquatic organisms from swimming freely everywhere. For a microbe to swim from my finger, down my creek, through the ocean, up the Angara River, and into Lake Baikal, it would take a lot of time and success in surmounting a few of these barriers. But the same surface tension I can touch stretches all around the world to Lake Baikal and every other water body not separated by a physical barrier.

Air is another substance that is connected--again unless it is locked in tanks and bottles and impermeable areas. I'm breathing the same air as someone in Beijing--although luckily for me, the concentration of pollutants in the air varies spatially, and various processes remove pollutants from the air. But the substance is the same everywhere.

Life is also connected to all other life. The energy, nutrients, and water that pass through all life is shared and recycled over and over again, so that a molecule in one being eventually will travel through all other beings.

John Muir said it best:

"When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe."

Hike up a headwater stream that is dry, and think about the moist soil in the streambed that connects all the water molecules in it to all the ones that stretch all the way down to the ocean, and then up to all the other headwater streams in the world. They are all connected. Pick any two places on Earth, and there is a line of water molecules connecting them.

The Mount Lyell Glacier No Longer Moves

Photo of me taken by Sacha Heath in 2003, back when
the Lyell Glacier (behind me) was still active, as it has
been for about the last 400 years.

I just got the news from Margaret Eissler. Greg Stock, the Yosemite National Park Geologist, has pronounced the Mount Lyell Glacier inactive. The largest glacier in Yosemite National Park no longer moves downhill, as active glaciers do.

This is very sad news. It is like Negit Island no longer being an island, or the Casa Diablo Geyser going inactive, or Tulare Lake no longer being a lake, or the Colorado River no longer flowing through its delta to the sea, or Walker Lake Nevada's Lahontan Cutthroat Trout fishery being decimated, or Lake Tahoe losing its clarity, or the loss of the starry sky due to light pollution, or the loss of silence due to noise pollution. It is a huge geographical, geological, historical, and cultural event.

The Mount Lyell Glacier no longer moves. Because of us. We just killed the Lyell Glacier.

It is sad because it has been caused by humankind, and was preventable, just like all these other tragedies. It is also a glacier that spared my life and taught me some things, so I feel a personal connection to it.

But we can console our sadness with the thought that the Lyell Glacier isn't dead, it is just inactive. Just like the Mono Craters are still volcanoes, the Lyell Glacier is still a glacier. Glaciers and volcanoes are processes that will recur. The Lyell Glacier has only been active since the Little Ice Age. When the climate turns cold again, it will recur, just as surely as the Mono Craters will erupt again. Both leave marks upon the landscape, and then go dormant for a few hundred years before they come back. John Muir himself said:

Third World Patterns in the Bay Area

As students of cultural geography know, in the Third World, property values in the cities tend to be highest, where the wealthy live, while shantytowns tend to surround the cities in the steeper terrain. In the First World, this pattern is often reversed, due to the wealthy fleeing the city centers and being able to afford the expensive engineering required to build in steeper terrain. Naturally these are generalizations, but it is always interesting to note when they don't apply.

San Francisco (left) and Mt. Tamalpais, the highest
point in hilly and forested Marin County.

In the San Francisco Bay Area of Northern California, the First World pattern tends to hold. Steep and hilly Marin County, a short walk across the Golden Gate Bridge north of the densest city in the state, is the richest county in the state and tends to have some of the highest property values.

As you move outward, property values tend to fall again, which is why commuters spend so much time in their cars and buy houses in hot, inland locations. Recent events in the housing market and higher fuel costs have tended to make house prices in these areas even lower.

Historic LA (back when it was legal to walk)

The header image for this blog shows a historic 1900 map of the area between downtown L.A. and Santa Monica. My dad grew up (drinking water from the Owens Valley) in the 1920s in the area toward downtown L.A. on Hobart Blvd., just east of Western Avenue.

2013 map (thanks to Google Maps) of the area in the 1900 map in the header.

 These maps are centered on the area seen in the photos below (found in the Facebook album Vintage Los Angeles).

Tiptoeing Up a Mountain Part 2

Two years ago I climbed Mt. Warren in my sandals and wrote about it here. Last year, the day after my LA Aqueduct Tour that I lead every summer, I climbed Tioga Peak in my sandals... from the south side. That is, the steep trail-less side above Ellery Lake, and not via the Gardisky Lake Trail on the northwest side.

The wildflower rock gardens on Tioga Peak are spectacular, even in a dry year.