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I’ve wanted to write something like this for a while, but I haven’t had the right frame of mind, or haven’t known quite what to say, or feared saying something that might interfere with the wheels of justice, or something. But I’m ready. (Ali is preparing something of her own, and given that she will speak at the defendant’s sentencing in about a month, her piece is actually worth something. My ramblings and incoherence, on the other hand, are just for kicks and giggles.)

THE BIKE

We took bikes on our honeymoon, and we’ve ridden regularly since then (I’ve been riding a road or mountain bike off or on for something like 20 years [at Deer Valley in the mid-90s, and anywhere else I could find back before there was an actual bike trail between City Creek and Bountiful], and consistently for the last 14+). Even when she was 7, maybe 8, months pregnant, Ali would pedal away on her trainer in my home office, trying to keep up her fitness as long as she could before some mandatory recovery time.

Since that first trip as a married couple, our vacations for the last 14+ years have managed to include bikes–borrowed when we flew across the country from Ohio to ride in Orange County; carried on top of the car when we spent our 10 year anniversary in Aspen; broken down and packed into luggage for the annual pilgrimage to Ohio; rented posthaste when we reached a port of call in Alaska; and so on and so forth.

Our kids, whether or not by choice, have been grafted into the hobby. The boys have wanted to ride Emigration Canyon for years, and I finally took Noah when he was 10–what I consider a young age for a ride like that. He hasn’t stopped talking about it since. In fact, he mentions it so frequently, that it wasn’t too long until 8 year old Logan followed suit. Logan hasn’t stopped talking about it either, and Miles (all of 6 years old) is confident, no insistent, that he could do it too (and given his track record, I’d be a fool to doubt him–the kid taught himself how to ride a bike, sans training wheels, at age 2, and his older brothers have struggled to keep up with him ever since).

Bikes are what we do and form a huge part of our identity, both individually and as a family. When we looked at neighborhoods considering a move, we rejected many of them *solely* because we couldn’t bike or walk from home to the grocery store, school, library, park, etc. Yalecrest is nearly unbeatable in that regard, and it’s something we’ve come to value tremendously. For us, bikes are a means of transportation and recreation, of course, but bikes are also part of who we are.

THE IMPACT

May 12, 2016, at about 10:30am, changed that. I’ve had my fair share of crashes (some my fault, some not). I’ve been hit by cars twice in the last three years. I haven’t cared. I mean, I’ve been angry about it and frustrated that we don’t treat two to three ton vehicles with more care, but being hit hasn’t deterred me from riding.

But that morning, when I listened to a voicemail telling me that my babies’ mom had been in an accident, followed by my rushing to pick up my four year old from preschool, followed by happening upon the scene of the accident from which my wife had recently departed, only to learn that she was hit by a drunk driver who had an empty vodka bottle on the seat next to him, well, it changed my perspective on riding a bike. And I also found a new sort of anger I didn’t recognize before.

What’s the point? I mean, really? I’m not particularly talented, I have horrible genes (sorry mom and dad, although I guess you should be sorry too!), and I don’t have as much free time as I would like. But, I was willing to suffer and enjoyed competition, even when that meant being embarrassed in a race. But as an old man, what was really the point of flogging myself in the dark (often starting before 5:00am) or for 5 to 9 hour-long rides on a Saturday? Would I be better served spending some of that time with the kids doing something they wanted to do, with me having the energy to do it?

I miss it, sometimes a lot. I haven’t stopped riding, but a typical ride is now a mere hour long. Sometimes, I only squeeze in 30 minutes just to keep up the habit. No more 5:00am to 8:00am weekday rides (frankly, I’m not sure that I could pedal for 3 hours even if I wanted to). I spend more time riding trails, and again more time running, trying to hold on to the last vestige of aerobic conditioning I’ve developed over the course of years and lost over the course of weeks.

I think the thing that makes Ali (or at least me) the most frustrated isn’t the physical pain (going on 5 months), mental pain (will it ever go away?), or anything like that–I think it’s the fact that we feel robbed of an important part of our identity. We recently stayed in St. George–one of our favorite places on the planet to ride. The boys and I took our bikes, and we didn’t pedal a single stroke on them. They went from the car rack to the garage when we arrived, then from the garage to the car rack when we left. That’s a shame.

If indeed time heals all wounds, then I assume that at some point we’ll rediscover our love for it–but I just don’t FEEL it. You know? And with what we’ve invested in cycling both in terms of dollars and in terms of time? Well, that’s a shame too.

THE DEFENDANT

Leaving for a moment what we’ve lost since May, here is what we’ve learned:

– The defendant’s blood alcohol content was 3.5 times the legal limit when he hit Alison–so drunk that he was a sip from being unconscious. At 10:30am on a Thursday.

– He drove past Evergreen Junior High, Evergreen Park, and the Millcreek Recreation Center (and who knows where else) before he hit Ali and came to a stop. Ever been by those areas on a weekday? If not–hold your kids tight. The area is crowded with kids–some at school, some on their way to/from, youngsters at the park, parents and kids headed to/from the library, etc. I sometimes have to keep myself from imagining what could have happened.

– It wasn’t his first rodeo. Granted, about three decades had passed since his last DUI, but still. Not a great thing to have experience with.

– The defendant pleaded guilty to a 3rd degree felony, the maximum possible, and will be sentenced in November.

– The federal government doesn’t make it a habit of employing felons, and thus the defendant, formerly a federal employee, is now in forced retirement.

THE STRUGGLE

I’ll try to not get too religious here, but let me say this: It is tough to balance the demands of justice with the demands of mercy.

Ali is not a vengeful person, and I don’t think that I am either (although I’m certainly not on Ali’s level). I believe in the rule of law and that a consequence should be affixed to each action. I also believe in forgiveness and that forgiving a villain can bring peace to a victim. You may feel the same, or you may think I’m nuts. I’m fine with that.

When you’ve been hit by a drunk driver and had something you love taken from you, it’s one thing to think about what you’d like to see happen as the wheels of justice grind along. When your spouse has been hit by a drunk driver and you can overcome a period of rage, it’s one thing to think about what you’d like to see happen. But how much consequence is too much consequence? How much consequence is too little consequence? Ali and I talked about some of these issues on May 12, and have talked about them countless times since.

It wasn’t until we got a call from the assistant district attorney that we actually had to grapple with those issues in a meaningful, concrete way. Theoretical discussion is fine (and part of the healing process), but when the prosecutor asks you what you’d like to see happen, and at that point realizing that what you say will have real consequences, it’s quite another thing entirely.

We’ve asked ourselves all sorts of questions. For example:

– How fulfilled is someone who is completely smashed at 10:30 on a Thursday morning? I feel badly for those who don’t feel fulfilled by their relationships, or their hobbies, or their employment, or just the amazing valley in which we live.

– Is jail time a deterrent (I don’t think so, for many reasons I won’t get into)? Or should jail time be punitive?

– How likely is the defendant to repeat? How likely is punishment to prevent recidivism generally?

– Is the criminal penalty sufficient? In the grand scheme of the events and consequences, how severe should the civil penalty be? Should the criminal penalty temper for us what we think might be a fair civil remedy?

– Is it fair that his spouse and family suffer for his actions (more than they already have)?

– On the continuum from “slap on the wrist” to “spend five years in the clink and be forced into bankruptcy,” at what point does punishment go from motivating change to feeding a cycle of depression (and consequent potential damaging behaviors) that only make change more difficult and less likely?

– Is what seems fair to us necessarily fair to the defendant? Is it fair to the defendant to have a maximum penalty? Is it fair to the defendant to have no penalty? Is it fair to the defendant’s family to have a maximum or no penalty?

– How sincere is the defendant’s remorse? Does it matter?

– Should perceived remorse ameliorate consequences?

– By not seeking the maximum possible criminal and/or civil penalties, are we doing a disservice to others–both those who might in the future be affected by this particular defendant’s potential actions as well as by the chance (if any) that a lack of extracting the maximum penalty might not serve presumed deterrence effects for others who might do similarly in the future?

– How do you economically quantify hours, days, weeks, months, and years of pain? Multiple surgeries? Impaired limb function? A summer (few they are whilst the kids are young) hearing about or watching your kids do the things you love to do but can’t participate in? Emotional wounds presenting at unexpected times, or in unexpected ways, and that you can’t fully understand yet?

– How do you make up for the fact that your short term memory has been so affected that your husband actually now wins an argument from time to time (“Where is my book?” “You put it on the table 30 seconds ago, literally.” “No I didn’t.” “Walk over there and look.”)

And the list goes on. (and on. and on.)

THE FUTURE

I’ve tried to help Ali understand that her input into the criminal process is not, or at least should not be, a burden in which she must decide the defendant’s fate. The defendant’s fate was in his own hands, and it is now in the hands of a trier of fact. Her input is important in that process, but whether or not the defendant is convicted is not her burden, and she should feel no guilt at the consequences imposed if she perceives them to be too harsh or too lenient. It’s easy for me to say. It’s not easy for a victim to appreciate.

The ride has been interesting, and it is not over. But sentencing will be an important milestone as we move forward and try and put the issues behind us and can focus on Ali being who she wants to be and doing what she wants to do.

Until then, next time you drive down the road, please drive sober/drive safely/put your phone down, and please give a cyclist a little space (we only take up a few feet). You may lose five (or even 15!!) seconds of time, but you’ll potentially save the cyclist a lot of pain and suffering, not to mention that of those waiting at home for her/him. You don’t understand the battles one is facing merely by looking at her/him.

It has been 5.5 years since I moved back to SLC, and I still can’t stop staring at the mountains.  I can name most of the peaks visible from the Salt Lake Valley, have hiked to the top of many of them, and feel lucky to live in an area of such beauty.  I’ve been wanting to take a picture of the Salt Lake Valley and label the visible peaks for quite some time, and I finally got around to it this week by taking the first picture (from the south end of the valley).  The peaks look so different depending on the angle that a single image won’t do them justice.

I’ll get around to labeling the various peaks, sharing that version, and moving around the valley to capture different perspectives over the coming weeks.  In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this preview (the original version of this image is nearly 400mb! You can click below for a larger, though reasonably-sized, version).

We’re lucky to live in a land of such beauty.

***Warning: I am about to step onto a soapbox like I have not heretofore done on my blog. So, hide your kids and hide your wife.

I simply cannot take it anymore

I grew up in the shadows of the Wasatch. I moved away. But I returned, and the Wasatch are a big part of why I returned. The Wasatch are under attack and it is time to stand up and speak out. You have probably heard me rant (in person or via Facebook) about SkiLink, the proposal which would place lift towers and gondolas between The Canyons resort, in Summit County, up and over the Wasatch Crest, and down into the heart of Big Cottonwood Canyon and Solitude resort, in Salt Lake County. There are so many things repugnant about SkiLink that I don’t know where to begin.

As Talisker, the parent company of The Canyons, and Solitude increase efforts to form a coalition of the willing, we are at the point where I must publish my opposition–a sort of cleansing of the hands–for we simply must stop SkiLink, and with it save the Wasatch which, once lost, may never be regained. Here is why I oppose SkiLink and why some call me a tree hugger:

1. SkiLink is not about transportation.

Modern transportation systems must quickly move the highest number of people possible at the lowest possible cost while minimizing impacts on sensitive natural elements. SkiLink fails. I agree that SkiLink has the potential to move a high number of people; however, SkiLink is at a great cost (both direct and external), and one must consider the realities of SkiLink. Perhaps Andrew McLean, the world-reknowned extreme skier and Park City resident put it best:

Let’s see… it starts in a private gated community with limited access, costs $96 per person per day to ride it, creates a donut hole of public property surrounded by private land, crosses a historic scenic trail, crosses a designated scenic highway, forces a sale of public lands that weren’t for sale to begin with, promises to attract 75,000 new skiers a year while at the same time reducing traffic and pollution, and is being proposed by a secretive foreign real estate developer with a questionable local environment track record.

You can read about some of Andrew’s other ideas here: http://goo.gl/0k2IH

Indeed, SkiLink is not about efficient transportation. This video shows the path necessary to get to where SkiLink will begin:

http://vimeo.com/35722395

Nearly $100 and 1.5 hours later, it is clear that SkiLink is not the transportation solution for Park City residents that it purports to be. Rather, SkiLink is a shady land grab of public lands by a Canadian real estate developer with a questionable environmental track record. It is also an expansion of my least favorite Utah ski resort (The Canyons) into my favorite (Solitude, which I will no longer ski if SkiLink becomes a reality). There are many transportation solutions that are much more feasible (and palatable) than selling some of the Wasatch’s prime land to foreign interests. Hike Willow Heights with me this spring and I think you’ll agree.

2. SkiLink is not smart growth.

SkiLink and other interconnect proposals, paving Guardsman (yuck), trains, busses, tunnels–these are some of the many ideas about how to get skiers to/from/between Park City, BCC, and LCC. Some ideas are practical, some are impractical, some are well intentioned, and some are SkiLink. If we are heading down the (perhaps inevitable) road to interconnected ski resorts, we must consider all proposals and select those that have the greatest likelihood of long term success and that minimize impacts on the Wasatch–the place from which our drinking water flows and to which we flee to escape the stresses of urban life. SkiLink may be the best solution for a ski resort trying and grow and gain access to hundreds of acres of additional terrain, but it is a poor solution for an economy and public who depend on Wasatch for tourism, recreation, and finding oneself. There are many proposals out there (including those mentioned by Andrew McLean in the article linked to above), and they deserve serious consideration before Talisker acquires 30 prime acres of USFS land.

3. SkiLink sets a dangerous precedent.

Utah legislators speak frequently and fervently about the necessity to “take back” public lands, returning them to the people, etc. These are the same legislators who purport to favor a strict and unyielding interpretation of the Constitution, which, by the way, contains the Supremacy Clause. Of course, the Utah Legislature’s own researchers and lawyers told them that H.B. 148 has “a high probability of being declared unconstitutional,” but the legislature went ahead and allocated $3,000,000 of our tax dollars to litigate and try to “get back” land from the federal government.

That issue is not directly tied to SkiLink, but the concept is. We have a congressional delegation who again wants to free the federal government of prime land in exchange for money. Money which, once received, will certainly be inefficiently disposed of–it will quickly disappear, but the scar on the Wasatch will remain for generations. This is all being done without public input.

In this interesting take, Tom Wharton summarized it well:

What about Utah’s congressional delegation? Our representatives spend much of their careers crying about how the oppressive federal government prevents the state from developing its resources as quickly as possible by putting controlling mandates on local government. Then most of the delegation sponsors a bill that goes against the wishes of the elected governments of Salt Lake City and County to force the U.S. Forest Service to give up 30 acres of public land for an ill-advised ski lift to connect the Canyons and Solitude ski resorts. How do you spell hypocrisy?

One way to spell hypocrisy is S-k-i-L-i-n-k.

Now, if you are unaware, most ski resorts are located on USFS land. This means that the ski resort operators own the lift towers, chairs, and other improvements, but the USFS owns the land (which the ski resort operators lease from the USFS). Obtaining a permit to use USFS land for ski resorts involves a number of steps, including public comment/hearing periods. Talisker assumed this process would be much to difficult, so they instead convinced Rep. Bishop, Rep. Chaffetz, and Senators Hatch and Lee to support a bill which will sell a 30 acre strip of land, which land was not otherwise for sale, to Talisker, a Canadian real estate development company with a spotty environmental track record.

Talisker did not even try the NSFS permit route. Instead, as one article put it: “It’s ironic — or perhaps the word is hypocritical — because this effort to circumvent local input is coming from the loudest proponents of local control and state’s rights in Congress, who regularly scrap with Uncle Sam over the use of federal lands in the Beehive State.”

In other words, Utah’s congressional delegation, minus Matheson (of course), agreed with Talisker that it would be too difficult and time consuming to try to obtain the USFS permit for which Talisker never applied, and rather than hearing any objections from the locals who live within the shadows (tint) of the Orange Bubble (see below), they found a way to get what they want (even better for them, actually, because the fee simple is the full bundle of sticks, vs. the permit or lease with is something less–visit a real property law class in law school for more discussion about the bundle of sticks).

The dangerous precedent is this: If a wealthy developer can get the ear of a congressperson (money talks), then the entire regime established to ensure orderly growth within the confines of a system designed to get input from all parties, review potential adverse environmental impacts, etc. can be set aside. Not good. Think for a minute about what that means.

What is to stop someone from getting prime land to throw up a development (which, after all, will bring property tax revenues to the state coffers)? Where does your water come from? Who controls it? (If you live in Salt Lake County, chances are that your drinking water comes from the Wasatch canyons, and even from the very area proposed to be sold to Talisker.) It doesn’t take much of an imagination to see where SkiLink’s precedent could lead. How about roller coasters up and down Mount Superior? Wait–I think they’re already working on something like that.

4. Stopping SkiLink is our only chance to save this land.

Again, SkiLink is a proposal which would sell 30 prime acres to a foreign real estate developer. Once this land is sold/developed, it is gone and we aren’t getting it back! Those towers will be there until well after we die.

5. Utah’s economy depends on the environment.

Now, let me turn my focus from the narrow issue of SkiLink to a more general discussion of the environment. Utah’s economy depends on travel and tourism. In fact, in 2009, 19.4MM visitors brought more than $6B into Utah, supporting over 110k jobs, and bringing in $625MM in taxes.

Do visitors come from all over the world to experience the magnificent inversion?

If you are not familiar with the inversion, it is a weeks-to-months-long event in which cold/heavy air gets trapped on the valley floor by a layer of warmer air on top. It feels like a perpetual fog signaling an impending storm–but it is simply a toxic cloud of pollution that blocks the sun and burns the respiratory system. In the picture to the left, all of the pretty colors are the result of pollution. In fact, the pollution in Salt Lake County gets so bad that exercising outside can be as bad for your lungs as smoking a pack of cigs. People don’t come here to see a spoiled environment–they come here to explore wide-open spaces, see the sun during the winter (something not generally possible in much of the country [at least not in Ohio between November and March]), and reconnect with Mother Earth.

Poor air quality, degraded resources, uncontrolled growth, etc. threaten tourism, and a threat to Utah’s tourism industry is a threat to one of Utah’s greatest economic machines. For that reason alone, we should do our best to preserve the mountains that surround Salt Lake City and make it such a great place to live. (Don’t buy the “projections” the SkiLink proponents have thrown around–there are plenty of counters that throw those projections into question.)

6. Protection of the environment is an end in itself; or, what will it look like tomorrow?

Have you hiked Donut Falls lately? Years ago, I found Donut Falls to afford some degree of solitude. Sure, it was heavily traveled and visitors were frequent. But, when I hiked Donut Falls again last year, we found people parking all over trampled vegetation, a number of people with dogs (in the BCC watershed, where they are many, many signs warning that dogs are prohibited), etc. It was so busy and had turned into such a Disneyland of sorts that Ali, the (then) three boys, and I turned around before we reached the end–we could not make it through the wall-to-wall people.

We left and headed for Willow Heights, and what a contrast! The narrower, steeper, and more imposing trail thinned the crowds, and even on a busy weekend we were able to enjoy the sort of solitude that compels one to leave the valley for the mountains. Unhindered development, SkiLink, and other issues threaten to destroy areas like this and the beauty that makes Utah unique. There are several ways to protect the Cottonwood Canyons and Utah’s beauty generally. That beauty is worth saving for ourselves, our children, and their children.

Fine, but what can I do?

– Call and email your representatives:

Rob Bishop
Jason Chaffetz
Orrin Hatch
Mike Lee
Utah Legislature

– Donate time and money to Save Our Canyons

– Join Stop The Tram on Facebook

– Support candidates for office who care about the environment, like Ben McAdams (you can read Ben McAdams’ editorial about SkiLink here: http://goo.gl/M6jNb) and Jim Matheson

Done with the soapbox.
Okay, that was intense. Last summer, Noah and I backpacked to Lake Blanche (see the post below for details). Noah talks about it constantly, and he and his brothers marvel at the beauty that surrounds us. Here is proof (from a different hike):

This summer, I will take Noah and Logan to Willow Heights, where we will spend the night, practice the principles of Leave No Trace, and talk about how the beauty surrounding them may forever be scarred with towers, wires, and gondolas courtesy of the people who brought us the Orange Bubble.

 

The Orange Bubble folks hardly seem like a worthy companion to Willow Heights, a very small portion of which looks like this:

The rest of Willow Heights has streams, mountains, ponds, etc., like this:

(courtesy Christian Paul)

We will take pictures so that they can show their own children and grandchildren how pristine Willow Heights used to be (one of the most beautiful areas I know of, which also happens to be within a 30 minute drive from Salt Lake City), before greed took over and poor planning resulted. My parents instilled in me a love for all things outdoors, and it is our duty to do the same for our children and to protect something for them and their children to enjoy.

Then they can tell their children and grandchildren that we did not care enough to save it for their generations–but instead, we decided that, rather than needing to hike the quick .75 miles from the road to the lake, they can now see the lake by driving to Park City, taking 5 chair lifts (at a cost of nearly $100 per person in 2012 dollars), hopping on SkiLink, and viewing Willow Heights from within the confines of an orange bubble. That sounds much more enjoyable, doesn’t it?

We only have one Earth, and I hope you will join me in being a good steward of it.

Thank you, and Happy Earth Day.

* I have chosen not to publish the location of the Willow Heights trailhead in hopes it can keep some solitude. If you want to visit with me, leave me a comment and I will be happy to take you there. The place speaks for itself, and I promise not to take my soapbox with me! (By the way, I know that SkiLink will not run through Willow Heights, but it will impact a similar area and be visible from Willow Heights.)

* Below are some pictures of the beauty that surrounds us in the West and that I think is worth preserving (these are not Willow Heights–just beautiful areas we should protect for the future)