wind generation capacity in the state. It
took eight years for Anschutz’s company
to get environmental and other clearances,
but the first turbines are expected to go up
sometime in 2022, with the whole project
completed by 2026. At that point the only
problem will be how the heck to get all that
energy captured from Wyoming’s tropo-
sphere into the laptops, light bulbs, and
Teslas that need it.
↙
WHILE WYOMING’S GEOGRAPHY PRODUCES
some of the best wind in the country, it
also complicates the process of exporting
energy. The state produces 15 times more
energy than it consumes, and its turbines
are relatively far away from California and
Nevada, where the big populations of elec-
tricity-hungry consumers live. Electricity
moves around the US on three separate
grids—one for the West, one for the Mid-
west and East, and one just for Texas. Wyo-
ming taps into the Western grid. But many
of the power lines within that grid are pri-
vately owned and have been leased to spe-
cific users, or are already overloaded.
One solution is more transmission lines,
but getting them built is a bear. In the East-
ern grid, the electricity flow is controlled
by a handful of centralized organizations.
Aside from one in California, there is no
such authority in the West; the lines are
managed by a patchwork of independent
operators. To construct a new line from,
say, Wyoming to California means getting
permits and fulfilling rules and regulations
across multiple jurisdictions.
Still, given the potential for cheap wind,
PacifiCorp has a project in the works for
about 400 miles of new power lines con-
necting a substation in southern Wyoming
to another in Central Utah. Right now, the
company has to dial back production when
the lines are crackling to capacity. “Once
we get the new transmission line in, that
should not happen,” says Anderson.
For the Chokecherry and Sierra Madre
project, the Power Company of Wyo-
ming could buy its way onto one of the
new PacifiCorp lines. More significantly,
Anschutz is also investing in a $3billion
line, called the TransWest Express Trans-
mission Project, that would carry wind
energy along 730 miles of high-voltage
lines from southern Wyoming to Las Vegas.
Another potential choke point is a
familiar one. With revenues from coal
drying up, and wind taking off, lawmak-
ers have floated the idea of increasing the
wind-generation tax—to as high as $5 per
megawatt-hour. Godby, of the University of
Wyoming, argues that those who are con-
sidering a steep tax increase on wind are
being shortsighted; if you discourage future
wind projects, you might end up reducing
overall tax revenue and undercutting the
purpose of the tax. At some point, he says,
you have to wonder whether the goal is
less about filling state coffers than trying to
stop wind development altogether.
Or to give a leg up to coal at wind’s
expense. In mid-February, Wyoming gov-
ernor Mark Gordon, a Republican, threw
his support behind the coal industry during
his state-of-the-state address. “We will not
recklessly abandon our most abundant
and reliable energy source just because
it is unpopular with some people,” Gor-
don said, while also calling for tax breaks
for oil and gas. Legislators were right on
it. One bill now being considered would
subsidize the development of unproven
carbon-capture technology to help keep
coal viable and would require public util-
ity companies like PacifiCorp to produce a
fixed percentage of electricity from “reli-
able” sources. The bill goes on to define
reliable as “generated electricity that is not
subject to intermittent availability.” In other
words, not wind.
Madden, the state official who first
championed a generation tax, retired from
the statehouse in 2018; but he’s still out-
spoken about energy, and he still supports
a wind tax. When I called him recently, he
said the tax “should be closer to $4 if we’re
going to be treating the sources of elec-
tricity creation equally.” But during our
conversation it was clear Madden’s point
about fairness ran deeper than just dol-
lars and cents; he seemed irked by the
attitude among some people working in
renewables. “The wind industry doesn’t
think they should be taxed,” Madden said.
“They think, ‘We’re doing more good than
we are harm.’”
In some ways, Wyoming’s wind tax
gambit has actually worked. Yes, it was at
least partially responsible for a sustained
period of non-development, but there is somuch money to be made that at this point,
developers might even tolerate a slightly
higher tax. During one of my conversations
with Godby, I asked if wind could actually
help with Wyoming’s depleted state bud-
get. “Renewables won’t save Wyoming by
directly replacing the economic loss the
downturn in fossil fuels will cause,” Godby
says. “But, potentially, it’s a large part of the
solution.” It’s a delicate balance.↙
AFTER TOURING GLENROCK, ANDERSON AND
I drove about an hour south into Carbon
County, the site of four PacifiCorp wind
farms. Two more are being built now.
Anderson pulled into a 74-turbine proj-
ect known as Dunlap I and introduced
me to the site manager, a big, friendly
guy named Todd Looney. He’s been in the
wind business for 16 years. Most guys, he
says, don’t last more than a year or two.
“You’re basically a mechanic,” he says. But
your toolbox is in a truck 300 feet down
a ladder.
Then, Looney says, there’s the wind
itself: “It takes a different person to work
in the wind, blowing all day every day.
That eats at people.” I asked Looney what’s
made it possible for him to survive in this
industry for so long. He turned and looked
me in the eye: “So, my last name is Looney;
a lot of it’s because I’m about half crazy.”
After the tour in Carbon County, Ander-
son and I hop back in his truck. On the
drive to Casper, he tells me that he sees
customers—like Facebook, which opened
a data center in Utah—starting to demand
renewable energy. Change, in other words,
is cultural as well as economic. The con-
versation made me think back to some-
thing he’d said earlier in the day: that any
big shift toward wind is going to take time.
“Right now, wind is just a small bucket here
in Wyoming, and they’re trying to compare
us to coal that produces billions in dollars,”
Anderson says. “But they’re trying to pick
on us, ‘You’re not going to do what coal
does.’ Well, no kidding: Coal’s been around
for 100 years.” The challenge facing Ander-
son—and all of us—is that we don’t have
100 years to wait.CHRIS OUTCALT (@chrisoutcalt) is
a journalist living in Colorado.