Cookies help us run our site more efficiently.

By clicking “Accept”, you agree to the storing of cookies on your device to enhance site navigation, analyze site usage, and assist in our marketing efforts. View our Privacy Policy for more information or to customize your cookie preferences.

Like It Or Not, a Hydrogen Ecosystem Is Coming to New Mexico

News Feed
Tuesday, May 21, 2024

Over the past month, in public meetings stretching from the Navajo Nation to Albuquerque, public officials and company representatives unveiled a picture of a new hydrogen energy industry being built in the northwest corner of New Mexico. The presentations reveal hydrogen production, transportation, power generation and carbon sequestration projects arcing across the Navajo Nation to Farmington and down to the I-40 corridor between Gallup and Albuquerque. Most of the projects are underway, and it’s clear they’ll rely on fossil fuels.   Tallgrass Energy sits at the center of all this activity and has the backing of the state’s biggest political player, New Mexico’s governor. The Denver-based company operates more than 7,000 miles of natural gas pipelines stretching from Oregon to Ohio, and it’s going all-in on creating the necessary pieces of a new economic base in New Mexico’s second-largest fossil fuel producing region. The region’s natural gas holds the key to many of the projects “Hydrogen is huge!” Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham proclaimed while speaking at an event in Farmington in April. What came next is what many in the region fear. “Hydrogen uses the natural gas resources here we don’t know what to do with,” she said.  Actually, plenty of people know what to do with natural gas. The issue is that fewer and fewer people want to use it, even as more and more of it is being produced. Historically, natural gas has been used most significantly for electrical grid power generation in the U.S., but its use in that arena is declining as renewable energy prices drop in the face of government climate policies and ever-cheaper solar technology.  It takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy.  Meanwhile, natural gas prices have tanked due to a production glut caused by ever-increasing oil production using hydraulic fracturing, or “fracking,” in places like the Permian Basin, shared between New Mexico and Texas. Producers want the oil, which brings a market price well above the cost of its production. But, pulled from the well, that fracked oil comes commingled with the less desired natural gas. Over the past month, natural gas prices dipped below zero at a main pipeline transit hub in Texas due to the glut. Some companies are storing gas underground, awaiting better days and prices. Enter hydrogen. The most plentiful element in the universe is a perfectly clean fuel when used to make electricity in a fuel cell. It’s generally cleaner than natural gas when burned to make heat, though the process produces nitrogen oxides that the EPA says damage the human respiratory system and contribute to acid rain.  The crux lies in how you make your hydrogen, which rarely exists on its own on earth. The cleanest, most energy-intensive way breaks water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen using renewable energy. The common way breaks off hydrogen atoms from the methane in natural gas. Either way, it takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy. When made with natural gas, the process also produces a lot of climate-damaging carbon dioxide. That defeats hydrogen’s clean bonafides unless the carbon dioxide is captured and buried underground, a process that uses even more energy. Furthermore, the natural gas production and transportation process often leaks, sometimes a lot. That gas is mostly methane, which is 80 times more capable of warming the atmosphere than carbon dioxide in the first 20 years after it’s released.  The federal government incentivized so-called low-carbon hydrogen production from natural gas with carbon sequestration in the Inflation Reduction Act of 2022. Many worry that this will lead to increased greenhouse gas emissions in light of New Mexico’s rocky track record of policing its oil and gas producers. All of this means a fuel promoted to fight climate change could actually exacerbate it, and cost a lot, too. “How companies choose to produce that hydrogen will fundamentally be a business decision they must make,” said Michael Coleman, director of communications to Gov. Lujan Grisham. “Our greatest opportunity as a state is producing hydrogen from a range of feedstocks.” Gov. Lujan Grisham has stumped for hydrogen for years, with little support from the state’s Legislature or environmental groups. She also sought a multibillion-dollar grant from the federal government to create a multi-state hydrogen ecosystem centered in New Mexico’s San Juan Basin, but the feds snubbed it last October. Hydrogen investments face a bumpy road in other states as well.  Nonetheless, Lujan Grisham forges on — she went to the Netherlands last week to drum up more hydrogen investments. Meanwhile, testing and planning chug along, with Tallgrass linking many of the far-flung pieces together. “The governor is looking to attract all kinds of hydrogen businesses to New Mexico,” Coleman said. “Tallgrass’ proposal draws all of the attention because of its scale but is hardly the only initiative under way.”  The Navajo Nation has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind.   “One of the more notable misconceptions that we’ve struggled to overcome is the view that we are focused on a singular point-to-point hydrogen project,” said Steven Davidson, vice president of government and public affairs for Tallgrass Energy. He’s referring to a hydrogen pipeline being developed by GreenView, a Tallgrass subsidiary. “We are working to create a clean energy ecosystem in coordination with many other parties,” he said. One of those parties is the Four Corners Clean Energy Alliance, an advocacy group promoting hydrogen development and associated technologies in the region on behalf of GreenView and Tallgrass. One of the group’s board members is an executive at Tallgrass. Both the group’s interim director and director of communications also work for the Consumer Energy Alliance, an industry trade group sponsored in part by a who’s-who of fossil fuel energy producers. The Tallgrass ecosystem includes a carbon capture and sequestration project with New Mexico Tech. The university has been studying the geology of the San Juan Basin since 2020 with the goal of getting three sequestration wells operational in a few years. The project is in the middle of its federal permitting process and could be approved sometime next year. It also includes the Escalante coal-fired power plant retrofitted to burn hydrogen, along I-40 between Albuquerque and Gallup and the hydrogen pipeline linking Farmington to central Arizona and crossing the Navajo Nation, a controversial project still in the planning stages. It’s expected to include a hydrogen production facility or two in or near Farmington, with exact locations to be determined. And there’s more. At a San Juan County Commission meeting in April, the lead researcher on the carbon sequestration project pointed out that if the Escalante power plant is to reach its carbon-free objective, Tallgrass has to build another pipeline, this one for carbon dioxide, running from the Escalante power plant to the future carbon sequestration wells, roughly 100 miles to the north and crossing the eastern reaches of the Navajo Nation. Meanwhile, the hydrogen pipeline project has already drawn fire from Navajo opposed to further energy projects on the Nation. The tribe has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind.  “All the projects that have ever been on Navajo [Nation] made those companies a lot of money,” said Jessica Keetso, who is Diné and an organizer with Tó Nizhóní Ání or Sacred Water Speaks, a Navajo water rights and environmental protection group. Historically, she said, they don’t clean up after themselves. “They get away with not doing reclamation, for everything from oil and gas, uranium to coal,” she said.  “Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy? I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.” ~ Jessica Keetso, organizer, Tó Nizhóní Ání  Many are also unhappy with how Tallgrass has gone about drumming up support from the tribe’s widely spaced, often-impoverished population.  At a meeting of the Navajo Nation Resources and Development Committee in Albuquerque in late April to discuss the hydrogen pipeline project, committee member Rickie Nez told Tallgrass representatives, “No more gift cards! No more gift cards! It makes you look like you’re bribing someone.”  GreenView representatives had been giving out gift cards to tribal members who attended chapter house meetings where the pipeline was discussed. (Chapter houses are the most local form of government on the Navajo Nation.) At some meetings, tribal members also voted on resolutions to allow the pipeline to cross their chapters. Davidson said the company came up with the idea “in consultation with respected cultural advisors from the Navajo Nation … to lessen the burden to the individual to encourage them to participate.” He said that the cards were for $25 to $50. He also heard that the cards “met with some concern about optics. We completely understand that point.” In addition, at the Resources and Development Committee meeting, Adam Schiche, whose online profile says he is the vice president for international business development at Tallgrass, said that GreenView representatives met with and paid individual grazing permit holders $500 for the possibility of working on land where livestock grazes. Davidson later said, “We have no qualms” in offering upfront payments, treating Navajo permit holders “exactly like landowners off the Nation.” He said further money would be given if the project goes forward. “Money talks. Money is persuading people, which is a very sad thing to see,” said Keetso. “The tactics are actually paying off for them because two months ago they didn’t have any resolutions.” For roughly two years, representatives from both Tó Nizhóní Ání and GreenView have made their cases for or against the pipeline and asked chapters to consider resolutions supporting or opposing it all along the proposed pipeline route. At the April Resources and Development Committee hearing, Schiche said that Tallgrass representatives had gathered resolutions in favor of the pipeline from five chapters. Tó Nizhóní Ání has gathered 15 against. Tallgrass’ main business is natural gas, and while the focus on hydrogen is touted as part of a climate change solution, it’s clearly connected to those fossil fuel operations. “We believe every practical option to decarbonize should be advanced — including the decarbonization of natural gas to make … hydrogen,” Davidson said. He sees hydrogen keeping the lights on, firing power plants when the sun goes down and the winds calm. “Hydrogen is a proven way to convert and store that clean electricity for when it’s needed,” he said. That’s the idea that ties natural gas to carbon sequestration, to the Escalante hydrogen-fired power plant 100 miles west of Albuquerque and to a 200-mile pipeline across the Navajo Nation to central Arizona. Powering the electric grid with expensive hydrogen isn’t universally popular. The Rocky Mountain Institute, a Colorado-based nonprofit that helps businesses and governments transition away from fossil fuels, promotes a common view for hydrogen’s best uses. “Fertilizer, oil refining and petrochemicals, steel manufacturing, and long-distance heavy-duty transport are no-regrets applications of hydrogen today,” they write. Hydrogen power plants aren’t what’s needed now. In the end, New Mexico’s discussion about hydrogen is about money. At the Resource and Development Committee meeting, Schiche told the group that $400,000 a year would be split among chapter houses along the pipeline route. In addition, the Nation could choose either a percentage stake in the pipeline company or annual payment for gas moving through the line.  “Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy?” Keetso said later. “I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.” Long-term jobs are a perennial hope for any projects on the Nation, where unemployment runs high. Schiche said that there would be a lot of construction work while building the project, but “the pipeline itself doesn’t generate a lot of jobs.” He said those would be at two hydrogen production sites somewhere around Farmington — which is not on the reservation. Keetso calls on bigger groups to fight alongside Tó Nizhóní Ání against the hydrogen projects. She said, “I just wish big greens would get off the fence and say, ‘Hey, this hydrogen may be the solution for some things. But the way that this company is doing it is wrong.’” Copyright 2024 Capital & Main

Production, distribution, power generation, carbon capture all in the works: Questions, concerns, confusion abound. The post Like It Or Not, a Hydrogen Ecosystem Is Coming to New Mexico appeared first on .

Over the past month, in public meetings stretching from the Navajo Nation to Albuquerque, public officials and company representatives unveiled a picture of a new hydrogen energy industry being built in the northwest corner of New Mexico. The presentations reveal hydrogen production, transportation, power generation and carbon sequestration projects arcing across the Navajo Nation to Farmington and down to the I-40 corridor between Gallup and Albuquerque. Most of the projects are underway, and it’s clear they’ll rely on fossil fuels.
 



 
Tallgrass Energy sits at the center of all this activity and has the backing of the state’s biggest political player, New Mexico’s governor. The Denver-based company operates more than 7,000 miles of natural gas pipelines stretching from Oregon to Ohio, and it’s going all-in on creating the necessary pieces of a new economic base in New Mexico’s second-largest fossil fuel producing region. The region’s natural gas holds the key to many of the projects

“Hydrogen is huge!” Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham proclaimed while speaking at an event in Farmington in April. What came next is what many in the region fear.

“Hydrogen uses the natural gas resources here we don’t know what to do with,” she said. 

Actually, plenty of people know what to do with natural gas. The issue is that fewer and fewer people want to use it, even as more and more of it is being produced. Historically, natural gas has been used most significantly for electrical grid power generation in the U.S., but its use in that arena is declining as renewable energy prices drop in the face of government climate policies and ever-cheaper solar technology.
 


It takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy.


 
Meanwhile, natural gas prices have tanked due to a production glut caused by ever-increasing oil production using hydraulic fracturing, or “fracking,” in places like the Permian Basin, shared between New Mexico and Texas. Producers want the oil, which brings a market price well above the cost of its production. But, pulled from the well, that fracked oil comes commingled with the less desired natural gas. Over the past month, natural gas prices dipped below zero at a main pipeline transit hub in Texas due to the glut. Some companies are storing gas underground, awaiting better days and prices.

Enter hydrogen. The most plentiful element in the universe is a perfectly clean fuel when used to make electricity in a fuel cell. It’s generally cleaner than natural gas when burned to make heat, though the process produces nitrogen oxides that the EPA says damage the human respiratory system and contribute to acid rain. 

The crux lies in how you make your hydrogen, which rarely exists on its own on earth. The cleanest, most energy-intensive way breaks water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen using renewable energy. The common way breaks off hydrogen atoms from the methane in natural gas. Either way, it takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy. When made with natural gas, the process also produces a lot of climate-damaging carbon dioxide. That defeats hydrogen’s clean bonafides unless the carbon dioxide is captured and buried underground, a process that uses even more energy.

Furthermore, the natural gas production and transportation process often leaks, sometimes a lot. That gas is mostly methane, which is 80 times more capable of warming the atmosphere than carbon dioxide in the first 20 years after it’s released. 

The federal government incentivized so-called low-carbon hydrogen production from natural gas with carbon sequestration in the Inflation Reduction Act of 2022. Many worry that this will lead to increased greenhouse gas emissions in light of New Mexico’s rocky track record of policing its oil and gas producers. All of this means a fuel promoted to fight climate change could actually exacerbate it, and cost a lot, too.

“How companies choose to produce that hydrogen will fundamentally be a business decision they must make,” said Michael Coleman, director of communications to Gov. Lujan Grisham. “Our greatest opportunity as a state is producing hydrogen from a range of feedstocks.”

Gov. Lujan Grisham has stumped for hydrogen for years, with little support from the state’s Legislature or environmental groups. She also sought a multibillion-dollar grant from the federal government to create a multi-state hydrogen ecosystem centered in New Mexico’s San Juan Basin, but the feds snubbed it last October. Hydrogen investments face a bumpy road in other states as well. 

Nonetheless, Lujan Grisham forges on — she went to the Netherlands last week to drum up more hydrogen investments. Meanwhile, testing and planning chug along, with Tallgrass linking many of the far-flung pieces together. “The governor is looking to attract all kinds of hydrogen businesses to New Mexico,” Coleman said. “Tallgrass’ proposal draws all of the attention because of its scale but is hardly the only initiative under way.”
 


The Navajo Nation has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind. 


 
“One of the more notable misconceptions that we’ve struggled to overcome is the view that we are focused on a singular point-to-point hydrogen project,” said Steven Davidson, vice president of government and public affairs for Tallgrass Energy. He’s referring to a hydrogen pipeline being developed by GreenView, a Tallgrass subsidiary. “We are working to create a clean energy ecosystem in coordination with many other parties,” he said.

One of those parties is the Four Corners Clean Energy Alliance, an advocacy group promoting hydrogen development and associated technologies in the region on behalf of GreenView and Tallgrass. One of the group’s board members is an executive at Tallgrass. Both the group’s interim director and director of communications also work for the Consumer Energy Alliance, an industry trade group sponsored in part by a who’s-who of fossil fuel energy producers.

The Tallgrass ecosystem includes a carbon capture and sequestration project with New Mexico Tech. The university has been studying the geology of the San Juan Basin since 2020 with the goal of getting three sequestration wells operational in a few years. The project is in the middle of its federal permitting process and could be approved sometime next year.

It also includes the Escalante coal-fired power plant retrofitted to burn hydrogen, along I-40 between Albuquerque and Gallup and the hydrogen pipeline linking Farmington to central Arizona and crossing the Navajo Nation, a controversial project still in the planning stages.

It’s expected to include a hydrogen production facility or two in or near Farmington, with exact locations to be determined.

And there’s more. At a San Juan County Commission meeting in April, the lead researcher on the carbon sequestration project pointed out that if the Escalante power plant is to reach its carbon-free objective, Tallgrass has to build another pipeline, this one for carbon dioxide, running from the Escalante power plant to the future carbon sequestration wells, roughly 100 miles to the north and crossing the eastern reaches of the Navajo Nation.

Meanwhile, the hydrogen pipeline project has already drawn fire from Navajo opposed to further energy projects on the Nation. The tribe has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind. 

“All the projects that have ever been on Navajo [Nation] made those companies a lot of money,” said Jessica Keetso, who is Diné and an organizer with Tó Nizhóní Ání or Sacred Water Speaks, a Navajo water rights and environmental protection group. Historically, she said, they don’t clean up after themselves. “They get away with not doing reclamation, for everything from oil and gas, uranium to coal,” she said.
 


“Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy? I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.”

~ Jessica Keetso, organizer, Tó Nizhóní Ání

 
Many are also unhappy with how Tallgrass has gone about drumming up support from the tribe’s widely spaced, often-impoverished population. 

At a meeting of the Navajo Nation Resources and Development Committee in Albuquerque in late April to discuss the hydrogen pipeline project, committee member Rickie Nez told Tallgrass representatives, “No more gift cards! No more gift cards! It makes you look like you’re bribing someone.” 

GreenView representatives had been giving out gift cards to tribal members who attended chapter house meetings where the pipeline was discussed. (Chapter houses are the most local form of government on the Navajo Nation.) At some meetings, tribal members also voted on resolutions to allow the pipeline to cross their chapters. Davidson said the company came up with the idea “in consultation with respected cultural advisors from the Navajo Nation … to lessen the burden to the individual to encourage them to participate.” He said that the cards were for $25 to $50. He also heard that the cards “met with some concern about optics. We completely understand that point.”

In addition, at the Resources and Development Committee meeting, Adam Schiche, whose online profile says he is the vice president for international business development at Tallgrass, said that GreenView representatives met with and paid individual grazing permit holders $500 for the possibility of working on land where livestock grazes. Davidson later said, “We have no qualms” in offering upfront payments, treating Navajo permit holders “exactly like landowners off the Nation.” He said further money would be given if the project goes forward.

“Money talks. Money is persuading people, which is a very sad thing to see,” said Keetso. “The tactics are actually paying off for them because two months ago they didn’t have any resolutions.”

For roughly two years, representatives from both Tó Nizhóní Ání and GreenView have made their cases for or against the pipeline and asked chapters to consider resolutions supporting or opposing it all along the proposed pipeline route. At the April Resources and Development Committee hearing, Schiche said that Tallgrass representatives had gathered resolutions in favor of the pipeline from five chapters. Tó Nizhóní Ání has gathered 15 against.

Tallgrass’ main business is natural gas, and while the focus on hydrogen is touted as part of a climate change solution, it’s clearly connected to those fossil fuel operations. “We believe every practical option to decarbonize should be advanced — including the decarbonization of natural gas to make … hydrogen,” Davidson said. He sees hydrogen keeping the lights on, firing power plants when the sun goes down and the winds calm. “Hydrogen is a proven way to convert and store that clean electricity for when it’s needed,” he said. That’s the idea that ties natural gas to carbon sequestration, to the Escalante hydrogen-fired power plant 100 miles west of Albuquerque and to a 200-mile pipeline across the Navajo Nation to central Arizona.

Powering the electric grid with expensive hydrogen isn’t universally popular. The Rocky Mountain Institute, a Colorado-based nonprofit that helps businesses and governments transition away from fossil fuels, promotes a common view for hydrogen’s best uses. “Fertilizer, oil refining and petrochemicals, steel manufacturing, and long-distance heavy-duty transport are no-regrets applications of hydrogen today,” they write. Hydrogen power plants aren’t what’s needed now.

In the end, New Mexico’s discussion about hydrogen is about money. At the Resource and Development Committee meeting, Schiche told the group that $400,000 a year would be split among chapter houses along the pipeline route. In addition, the Nation could choose either a percentage stake in the pipeline company or annual payment for gas moving through the line. 

“Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy?” Keetso said later. “I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.”

Long-term jobs are a perennial hope for any projects on the Nation, where unemployment runs high. Schiche said that there would be a lot of construction work while building the project, but “the pipeline itself doesn’t generate a lot of jobs.” He said those would be at two hydrogen production sites somewhere around Farmington — which is not on the reservation.

Keetso calls on bigger groups to fight alongside Tó Nizhóní Ání against the hydrogen projects. She said, “I just wish big greens would get off the fence and say, ‘Hey, this hydrogen may be the solution for some things. But the way that this company is doing it is wrong.’”


Copyright 2024 Capital & Main

Read the full story here.
Photos courtesy of

State-Funded Gun Range in South Dakota Nearly Finished, Expected to Open in November

The South Dakota Game, Fish & Parks Department hopes to have a mostly state-funded gun range near Rapid City ready for public use in early November

PIEDMONT, S.D. (AP) — Dust plumes rose frequently along a gravel section of Elk Vale Road on the open prairie of Meade County, South Dakota in early September where workers are vigorously trying to finish a gun range that will be among the nation’s largest.Plumbers, landscapers, equipment operators and construction crews were all busy working or driving to or from the 400-acre site. The goal, according to the South Dakota Game, Fish & Parks Department, is to have the range, located about 12 miles north of Rapid City, ready for public use on Saturday, Nov. 8.Construction on the range – now known as the Pete Lien & Sons Shooting Sports Complex – has happened quickly and is going along smoothly, far different from the long, up-and-down path the project went through in the planning and funding processes.The range proposal was raised by the GFP in 2021 with strong support from former Gov. Kristi Noem. Despite opposition by some lawmakers and neighbors, it is close to completion and is creating a buzz among shooting enthusiasts across the state and region, said John Kanta, a GFP section chief.“There’s a tremendous amount of excitement among folks who want to start using it,” he said. “Some weeks we’re hearing from people daily who are super excited to get out there and start shooting or get their events scheduled.”The $20 million range will include 160 rifle, handgun and shotgun shooting bays, a tactical shooting range for shooting and moving, and a 10,000 square-foot main building that can house events, law enforcement training and firearm education, Kanta said. Some lawmakers opposed funding mechanism Almost immediately after the range proposal was announced, both support and opposition arose within the South Dakota Legislature.While some lawmakers have supported construction as a way to serve the public and potentially generate millions of dollars in annual tourism revenue, others have been bothered by the way the project has been funded.Rep. Liz May, a Republican from Kyle, opposed the use of taxpayer money to build the range. May, who serves on the Joint Committee on Appropriations, said lawmakers defeated six separate bills or funding mechanisms brought forward by range supporters.“We kept killing it, and they kept bringing it back and bringing it back,” May told News Watch. “I’ve got nothing against guns or gun ranges. But that’s just not an appropriate use of taxpayer dollars.”May was particularly bothered when Noem allocated $13.5 million in Future Fund dollars toward construction of the range in 2024.The Future Fund consists of money collected from most South Dakota businesses as part of unemployment compensation fees. The money is required to be used for “workforce development and technical assistance programs” for workers, including those who have been laid off. Grants are made by the Governor’s Office of Economic Development and do not require legislative approval.“There was opposition from landowners and lawmakers, and they basically just ignored all that and went around the process by using those Future Funds,” May said. “With the whole thing — they really stepped outside the boundaries.” Donors step in to complete project GFP officials promised that donations would help fund the construction of the gun range, and their plan has succeeded, with more than $6.3 million either donated or pledged for the project so far.According to a GFP budget document, obtained by News Watch through a public records request, more than $3 million has been donated and another $3.3 million has been pledged over the next five years by corporations, individuals and groups that support the project.About a third of the donations have come from firearm industry businesses or groups that support shooting. The top donation of $800,000 with a commitment to give another $1.2 million in the next three years came from Pete Lien & Sons, a Rapid City concrete company that is now the namesake of the range.The next largest donation of $600,000 came from South Dakota Youth Hunting Adventures, a charity group, followed by $200,000 from Scull Construction of Rapid City and $150,000 each from firearm manufacturers Smith & Wesson and Glock.Annual ongoing expenses at the range will be about $400,000 and include three full-time employees and some seasonal workers as well as upkeep, Kanta said. Those costs will be covered by permit fees paid by some users, support from government agencies that use the range for training and possibly from some federal grant funds, he said.“No general fund money will be used,” Kanta said. Some neighbor opposition remains Joe Norman and his wife, Diane, own a home and a 7,600-acre cattle ranch in Meade County with borders that extend to within close proximity of the gun range site.Norman, 69, is one of several ranchers and landowners in the area who oppose the location of the gun range. After testifying before the Legislature and opposing the range in public meetings, he is resigned to the fact the range is about to become reality.Yet Norman remains concerned about heavy traffic on gravel roads in the area, disruption of his cattle, and the noise from the repeated firing of handguns and rifles.“If they’ve got 175 shooting bays and it’s full, that’s potentially 175 shots every minute. And if they do that for 10 to 12 hours a day, I think the noise is going to be unbelievable,” Norman told News Watch. “The roads have also gone to heck with all the construction traffic.”Initially, the range was expected to have 175 shooting bays, though that number has been reduced to 160, Kanta said.Norman said he’s already heard some shooting at the site, even though the formal opening is not until November. He’s concerned that promises to keep the noise level under 64 decibels will be difficult or impossible to monitor and enforce.Noise from the range will be reduced by the natural topography of the land and by berms and baffling that will help stifle sound, Kanta said. Shooters will aim to the east and northeast where there are no structures for miles, and lead bullets will be captured and contained within federal environmental guidelines, he said.As part of an agreement with Meade County, a 3-mile section of Elk Vale Road leading to the range will also be paved in the coming months to reduce dust from vehicles.Norman said he’s disappointed that, in his opinion, the concerns of neighbors were largely ignored by the GFP, state officials and lawmakers who supported the range and were determined to find a way to get it funded and built.“We were fighting the governor, the lieutenant governor and legislators,” he said. “It feels like the GFP responses have all been smoke and mirrors.” Excitement building for new shooting option Despite its strong firearm culture, South Dakota has a fairly limited number of gun ranges. And one argument from range supporters was that more controlled shooting sites were needed to prevent gun owners from leaving messes and creating nuisances at unofficial shooting sites in the Black Hills.The GFP operates 20 public shooting sites, though most are for archery and only seven allow firearm discharges. Those that allow firearms include North Point in Lake Andes, Oahe Downstream in Fort Pierre, Louis Smith near Mobridge, Brule Bottom north of Chamberlain and South Shore in Codington County.This interactive map on the GFP website includes location and consumer information for 67 public and private shooting range sites in the state, though many have limited access or are for archery only.A few ranges are outdoors and allow easy public access, such as the Fall River Gun Club near Hot Springs and the Watertown Area Shooting Complex. A few ranges are indoors, including at Gary’s Gun Shop in Sioux Falls.The large size, wide range of shooting options and quality of amenities at the new state range will make it a destination for shooting enthusiasts across the state and nation and possibly even internationally, said Mark Blote, a co-owner of First Stop Gun & Coin in Rapid City.Blote visited the range site in early September and was impressed with the progress. Excitement over the range’s opening is palpable in the firearms community and in the local tourism industry, he said.“I think it’s going to be great for the gun folks in our area. But it’s truly a world-class facility, so it will do a lot for the economy,” Blote said. “It’s going to bring in a lot of competitions, which will help the hotels and restaurants.”This story was originally published by South Dakota News Watch and distributed through a partnership with The Associated Press.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – Sept. 2025

Montgomery Hills’ leafy neighborhoods contrast with busy Georgia Ave.

Where We Live | Five communities share the benefits and challenges of suburban life near an urban thoroughfare.

Cars stream off the Beltway onto Georgia Avenue in Silver Spring, Maryland, where traffic is inching past stoplights and attempting to turn from shopping centers, gas stations and churches. Sidewalks have no buffer with the road, but there are few pedestrians and even fewer trees or plants. Horns blare when confused drivers travel the wrong way in reversible lanes.Subscribe for unlimited access to The PostYou can cancel anytime.SubscribeBut the five leafy neighborhoods that abut either side of this mile-long stretch of Georgia Avenue belie the cacophony of traffic noise and endless concrete. And while residents prize the peaceful communities on their streets once they leave Georgia Avenue, they find it difficult to traverse the retail hub they center on.“There’s no relief from the traffic, no median, no trees. There are utility poles popping up in the middle of the sidewalk. It’s extremely inconvenient and ugly,” said Gus Bauman, who has lived in a Dutch Colonial house a few blocks to the west of Georgia Avenue for 48 years. Bauman was head of the Maryland-National Capital Park and Planning Commission from 1989 to 1993 and is an attorney focusing on land use and related environmental issues.The commercial area of Georgia Avenue from the Beltway south to Spring Street just north of downtown Silver Spring is known as Montgomery Hills. Most of the neighborhoods that border it all start with Woodside: Woodside Forest, Woodside Park, North Woodside and Woodside itself. Linden, itself the name of a tree, is the fifth community. At one point they all carried the name Montgomery Hills as well, but as resident Geoff Gerhardt notes, “it just became too much of a mouthful to say North Woodside Montgomery Hills.” Gerhardt has lived in a 1928 Craftsman bungalow in the neighborhood since 2011. The neighborhoods were established from the 1920s through the 1950s and have a diverse range of single-family houses and some newer townhouses.“I think the heart of the issue is Montgomery Hills really being ignored for years and years. It’s that when you look at the civic associations in the residential neighborhoods surrounding it, nobody really claims that as their own,” said Michelle Foster, who lives in Woodside Park and founded the group Friends of Montgomery Hills about a decade ago.Foster, who had been an urban planner in New York City, first moved to Reston, Virginia, but felt more at home in Silver Spring, moving into her center-hall Colonial house in 1994.“The opportunity to have a single-family home but be able to be in downtown Silver Spring really easily, to be able to walk and have community resources super close by, was important,” she said. “It was really diverse, and I mean that from all perspectives, from income and race and housing styles, it kind of had it all. So I’ve always said I think this is the absolute perfect place, and I just can’t imagine living anywhere else.”However, that doesn’t mean the perfection doesn’t have problems. Foster discovered that the neighborhood elementary school, Woodlin, is across Georgia Avenue, meaning it wasn’t really walkable for her son, and inconvenient for friends he made just across the road.In addition to an Aldi grocery store and CVS, mainly small, independently owned restaurants and businesses line both sides of Georgia, including Lime & Cilantro, which opened last year and quickly claimed a spot on Post restaurant critic Tom Sietsema’s 40 best area restaurants list. But even though some businesses are just a few blocks away, many people end up driving. “And when you’re already in your car, you often decide to just leave the neighborhood altogether,” Foster notes.At the same time, transportation options in the community are a bonus, said RLAH real estate agent Cari Jordan, who lives in another Silver Spring neighborhood. “It’s a commuter’s dream, with the Beltway right there as well as the Forest Glen Metro station,” she said. The Purple Line train under construction will have a station at the far edge of the North Woodside neighborhood.But help for Georgia Avenue is in the works. Friends of Montgomery Hills primarily focuses on working with the Maryland State Highway Administration for improvements. The state’s Georgia Avenue Safety and Accessibility Project has been planned for years but has moved slowly. In fact, Bauman remembers holding meetings in his living room back in the 1970s to help sketch out ideas.The project focuses on the road from just a block north of the Beltway by the Forest Glen Metro station down to 16th Street, a stretch of about three-quarters of a mile that carries about 71,500 vehicles a day. Improvements now in the works call for removing the center reversible lane, replacing it with a landscaped median and new left turn lanes. A two-way bike lane will be added to the west side of Georgia, continuing onto 16th Street to the end of the neighborhood at Second Avenue. The Beltway exit and entrance areas on Georgia Avenue will be improved, and new or upgraded sidewalks on both sides of Georgia will be added, as well as a pedestrian crossing with a signal.As a first step, the State Highway Administration is now working on relocating utility poles. A Shell gas station was demolished, and the Montgomery Hills car wash, which operated for 51 years, was closed in March and will be removed to make way for planned improvements. Actual road construction is expected to begin in 2028.“The partnership with the community has been critical to moving this project forward, and we look forward to coming back to celebrate its completion,” State Highway Administrator Will Pines said during a Sept. 4 event held on Georgia Avene to announce full funding of the project. The draft fiscal year 2026-2031 transportation budget allocates $50.8 million for the project.While having the project move ahead is a win, coalescing the community is also an accomplishment, said Gerhardt. He is also vice president of Friends of Montgomery Hills and helps coordinate the community’s Street Fest every one to two years, which draws more than 1,000 residents. The event includes tables for community organizations, food from local restaurants, and remarks by area elected officials. The next Street Fest will take place in spring 2026.“It’s a fun event. It’s placemaking, but for us it’s also an important advocacy function,” he said.For Bauman, Snider’s, the independent grocery store that has been in Montgomery Hills since 1946, proximity to the Metro and tree-lined streets with diverse housing are all important attributes to the community.“I have found over the half-century I’ve been here, people say to me, ‘Aren’t you going to move to Bethesda or Potomac?’ I say: ‘Why would I do that? It’s so easy living here.’ What people do here, they don’t move. They just build additions.”Home sales: From Sept. 1, 2024, to Sept. 1, 2025, 60 houses sold, ranging from a three-bedroom, three-bathroom home that needed extensive renovation for $465,000 to a five-bedroom, four-bathroom Colonial built in 1900 on nearly one acre for $1.65 million. Four houses are now on the market, ranging from a three-bedroom, two-bathroom rambler for $711,000 to a five-bedroom, three-bath split level for $1.115 million.Schools: Woodlin Elementary, Sligo Middle, Einstein High School (part of the Downcounty Consortium)Parks: Montgomery Hills Neighborhood Park with basketball and tennis courts and a playground; Woodside Urban Park with a playground, skateboard area and indoor handball and volleyball courts; Sligo Creek Park, which forms the eastern border of the community.

120 Land and Environmental Defenders Killed or Disappeared in Latin America Last Year, Report Finds

A report by Global Witness reveals that at least 146 land and environmental defenders have been killed or gone missing worldwide in 2024

BOGOTA, Colombia (AP) — At least 146 land and environmental defenders were killed or have gone missing around the world in 2024, with more than 80% of those cases in Latin America, according to a report released Wednesday by watchdog group Global Witness.The London-based organization said the region once again ranked as the most dangerous for people protecting their homes, communities and natural resources, recording 120 of the total cases. Colombia remained the deadliest country, with 48 killings — nearly a third of cases worldwide — followed by Guatemala with 20 and Mexico with 18. The number of killings in Guatemala jumped fivefold from four in 2023, making it the country with the highest per capita rate of defender deaths in the world. Brazil registered 12 killings, while Honduras, Chile and Mexico each recorded one disappearance.“There are many factors that contribute to the persistent high levels of violence in Latin American countries, particularly Colombia,” Laura Furones, lead researcher of the report, told The Associated Press. “These countries are rich in natural resources and have vast areas of land under pressure for food and feed production. Conflict over the extraction of such resources and over the use of such land often leads to violence against defenders trying to uphold their rights.”Since 2012, Global Witness has documented more than 2,250 killings and disappearances of land and environmental defenders worldwide. Nearly three-quarters occurred in Latin America, including close to 1,000 cases since 2018, when the region adopted the Escazu Agreement — a treaty designed to protect environmental defenders. The pact requires governments to guarantee access to environmental information, ensure public participation in environmental decision-making and take timely measures to prevent and punish attacks against those who defend the environment.“The Escazu Agreement provides a crucial tool for Latin America and the Caribbean,” said Furones. “But some countries have still not ratified it, and others that have are proving slow to implement and resource it properly. Stopping violence against defenders will not happen overnight, but governments must ramp up their efforts toward full implementation.”The report noted that Indigenous peoples bore a disproportionate share of the violence. They accounted for around one-third of all lethal attacks worldwide last year despite making up only about 6% of the global population. Ninety-four percent of all attacks on Indigenous defenders documented in the report occurred in Latin America. In Colombia’s southwestern Cauca region, Indigenous youth are working to ensure they will not be the next generation of victims. Through community “semilleros,” or seedbeds, children and teenagers train in environmental care, cultural traditions and territorial defense — preparing to take on leadership roles in protecting land that has come under pressure from armed groups and extractive industries. “We are defenders because our lives and territories are under threat,” said Yeing Aníbal Secué, a 17-year-old Indigenous youth leader from Toribio, Cauca, who spoke to AP in July. These initiatives show how communities are organizing at the grassroots to resist violence, even as Colombia remains the deadliest country for defenders.Small-scale farmers were also heavily targeted, making up 35% of the victims in the region. Most killings were tied to land disputes, and many were linked to industries such as mining, logging and agribusiness. Organized crime groups were suspected of being behind at least 42 cases, followed by private security forces and hired hitmen. Colombia one of the worst hit The Amazonian department of Putumayo in southern Colombia illustrates many of the risks faced by defenders. With its strategic location bridging the Andes and the Amazon, the region is rich in forests, rivers and cultural knowledge. But it also sits at the crossroads of armed conflict, extractive projects and illicit economies. Armed groups have long used the Putumayo River as a trafficking route toward Brazil and Ecuador, where weak controls make it easier to move cocaine, minerals and laundered money.An environmental defender there, who asked to remain anonymous out of fear of reprisals, told AP this has created one of the most hostile climates in the country.“Defending rights here means living under permanent threat,” the source said. “We face pressure from illegal mining, oil projects tied to armed groups, deforestation and coca cultivation. Speaking out often makes you a military target.”Andrew Miller of the nonprofit Amazon Watch said transnational criminal networks involved in drug, gold and timber trafficking have become a major force behind threats — and often deadly attacks — against environmental defenders.“The security situation for defenders across the Amazon is increasingly precarious,” Miller said.The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – Sept. 2025

Contributor: Truck makers breaking emissions deal are hurting themselves — and all Californians

This is no longer just about truck emissions. It's about who gets to write the rules that govern our economy and who gets to decide how polluted our state will be.

California’s air is under attack — by the very companies that promised to clean it up.In 2023, truck manufacturers struck a deal with the California Air Resources Board to drastically reduce emissions and invest in electric trucks. This summer, however, several of the companies — Daimler Truck, Volvo Group, Paccar and Traton — backed out of the partnership and sued California, with support from the Trump administration. Now fossil-fuel-aligned corporations are leveraging political connections to weaken oversight, erode environmental protections and entrench their dominance.This is no longer just about truck emissions. It’s about who gets to write the rules that govern our economy and who gets to decide how polluted our state will be. It’s about defending democracy from corporate overreach.Likely seeing an opportunity to profit from diesel under new federal leadership, the major truck manufacturers doing business in California are injecting instability into the very market they once sought to stabilize. This is political opportunism, plain and simple.The 2023 deal, known as the Clean Truck Partnership, was rooted in trust and a shared interest in predictable, stable rules during the transition away from fossil fuels. It wasn’t a regulation or a law; it was a collaboration — an experiment in handshake agreements that now looks like a cautionary tale for regulators and communities everywhere: Corporations can walk away from deals like this the moment political winds shift or the quarterly earnings dip.The manufacturers’ gratuitous lawsuit comes alongside a proposed rollback of the Environmental Protection Agency’s greenhouse gas standards and a surprise Federal Trade Commission move to condemn the partnership. The commission issued a statement closing an investigation it never publicly announced, after the companies sent letters playing victim. Is it any surprise that Trump’s federal lawyers jumped in days later to sue California along with the truck makers?The consequences of breaking the agreement are real and devastating. Diesel freight pollution has long hit hardest in low-income neighborhoods and communities of color near ports, warehouses and freight corridors, causing higher rates of asthma, heart disease and cancer. Rolling back the Clean Truck Partnership means more diesel trucks on California roads, more hospital visits and more lives cut short. It’s an assault on environmental justice that tells Californians their health is expendable.And everyone pays. Delaying clean truck adoption locks fleets into high and volatile diesel prices and undermines U.S. competitiveness. The manufacturers themselves are maintaining that crisis by discouraging the shift to electric trucks: California has documented a $94,000 markup on some electric trucks in the U.S. compared with Europe.When a handful of corporations can derail public policy this way, states must push back. California tried a compromise; now it must defend its right to set stronger standards, invest in clean infrastructure and refuse to subsidize companies that break their commitments.California’s leadership on clean transportation has helped it become the world’s fourth-largest economy. Its authority to set its own standards has driven innovation, created jobs and put more zero-emission vehicles on the road than in any other state. The public wants clean air and modern infrastructure. The choice is clear: double down on clean truck commitments or cede leadership to China and watch our industries and economy fall behind.A predictable market is essential for corporate investment in the energy transition. California brokered this partnership to give manufacturers the certainty they said they needed and say they still need. Now some of those same manufacturers are adding uncertainty by trying to revert to older standards and delay the transition. But it must come, and the sooner the better — for manufacturers, Californians and the nation.There’s still time to do the right thing. The truck makers who broke their word can still step up to electrify trucks. And the manufacturers who have not joined the lawsuit against California — Cummins, Ford, General Motors and Stellantis — should publicly reaffirm the goals of the Clean Truck Partnership, follow through on their commitments and reap the rewards. If these companies choose to stand with California now, they won’t just be honoring a promise; they’ll be helping build an economy that creates good jobs, drives innovation and secures a competitive future for American freight.Guillermo Ortiz is a senior clean vehicles advocate at the Natural Resources Defense Council. Craig Segall is a former deputy executive officer and assistant chief counsel of the California Air Resources Board. The following AI-generated content is powered by Perplexity. The Los Angeles Times editorial staff does not create or edit the content. Ideas expressed in the pieceTruck manufacturers who signed the 2023 Clean Truck Partnership are engaging in political opportunism by backing out of their commitments, taking advantage of the Trump administration’s support to weaken environmental protections and maintain their dominance in the diesel market.The lawsuit represents corporate overreach that undermines democracy, as these companies are leveraging political connections to write the rules governing California’s economy and determine pollution levels in the state.Breaking the partnership agreement will have devastating consequences for environmental justice, particularly harming low-income neighborhoods and communities of color near ports and freight corridors who face higher rates of asthma, heart disease, and cancer from diesel pollution.The manufacturers’ decision to abandon the deal creates market instability and undermines U.S. competitiveness in clean transportation technology, while maintaining artificially high prices for electric trucks compared to European markets.California must defend its authority to set stronger emissions standards and refuse to subsidize companies that break their commitments, as the state’s leadership on clean transportation has helped it become the world’s fourth-largest economy.Companies that have not joined the lawsuit should publicly reaffirm their commitments to the Clean Truck Partnership goals and help build an economy that creates jobs, drives innovation, and secures America’s competitive future in freight transportation.Different views on the topicTruck manufacturers argue they are “caught in the crossfire” between conflicting directives, with California requiring adherence to emissions rules while the U.S. Department of Justice instructs them to stop following the same standards that Congress recently preempted under the federal Clean Air Act[1].The manufacturers contend that the Clean Truck Partnership is being applied to enforce regulations that no longer have federal waivers, following Congress’s passage of resolutions under the Congressional Review Act in June 2025 that nullified EPA’s earlier waivers allowing California to implement key programs including the Advanced Clean Trucks regulation[1].Industry representatives maintain that the agreement includes provisions that limit manufacturers’ ability to contest CARB regulations, creating legal constraints that may no longer be valid given the changed federal regulatory landscape[1].Some manufacturers are adopting a “wait and see” approach, with companies like Isuzu anticipating “a good faith discussion with CARB and other regulated signatories to determine the agreement’s current scope and relevance” rather than immediately abandoning all commitments[2].Legal experts and former CARB officials argue that the partnership remains binding regardless of federal changes, pointing to language in the agreement that commits manufacturers to meet CARB regulations “irrespective of the outcome of any litigation challenging the waivers or authorizations for those regulations”[2].Manufacturers express concerns about the lack of clarity in how to proceed with truck sales in California, with some companies like Volvo Group choosing to keep their current sales policies “as they are for now” while the regulatory situation remains uncertain[2].

Why fast-tracking oil drilling in California won’t lower prices at the pump

Lawmakers just enabled fast-tracking of new oil drilling permits in Kern County. Gas prices are mainly moved by other economic forces.

California lawmakers just passed legislation to support the oil and gas industry in an attempt to lower costs for consumers. Below, an environmental scholar argues that making it easier to drill oil won’t lower gas prices. The opposing view: A business professor says the deal is an overdue but also piecemeal approach for such a critical problem. Guest Commentary written by Deborah Sivas Deborah Sivas is a professor who teaches environmental law and environmental social science at Stanford University. California’s demand for gasoline has fallen steadily over the last two decades as state consumers shift to cleaner electric and hybrid vehicles.   What’s giving some state policymakers heartburn is the fact that falling demand for gasoline means declining demand for in-state petroleum refining. In response, some California refineries have begun consolidating, converting or closing.  Though this is good news for nearby communities burdened by refinery pollution, state officials worry refining capacity could fall faster than gasoline consumption, driving up pump prices as short-term demand exceeds supply.  The oil industry has stoked this fear and proposed a dangerous solution: Exempt all new oil and gas drilling from the California Environmental Quality Act, colloquially known as CEQA (pronounced see-kwah). The industry aggressively pushed state legislation for that. What legislators passed last week, Senate Bill 237, didn’t go that far but aims to make it easier to expand drilling in oil-rich Kern County. Still, the same issues arise from this exemption. Fast-tracking new oil drilling permits will do nothing to affect pump prices. California has been extracting crude oil for 150 years. By the start of the 20th century, it was the leading oil-producing state in the nation. Helping that boom were natural gas deposits, which create pressure in oil reservoirs that allows crude to flow to the surface. California’s early oil derricks sometimes caused explosive gushers that sprayed oil high into the air, prompting a wave of local regulation. The days of gushers are gone. With natural gas stores largely depleted, California oil fields now contain mostly heavy crude oil, often tucked into folded geology and difficult to extract. Today’s drillers typically inject steam or hot water to lower the oil’s viscosity and increase its flow. That is energy-intensive and expensive, so drilling in California isn’t as cost competitive as Texas or North Dakota. These fundamental economics — not environmental laws — largely dictate the level of in-state crude oil production. California already imports most of the crude oil feeding its refineries. Refinery operators understand this and are making decisions based on long-term business projections.  As the state produces less oil, there is less need for in-state refining. That transition presents an opportunity. Many refineries sit on valuable land that could be repurposed for more sustainable uses.   Legislation that exempts new oil drilling from environmental quality standards won’t magically change this reality. In fact, current projections by the U.S. Energy Information Administration suggest global oil prices will fall over the next year or two, perhaps to levels that will make most California production uncompetitive. Global market prices are the likely reason many new wells the state approved in recent years haven’t been drilled.    Gutting environmental regulations would disenfranchise communities trying to protect themselves from potential risks associated with oil production, such as toxic air pollution, water and soil contamination and drilling rig explosions.  If state officials want to smooth California’s transition from transportation fuel, they should look for solutions such as facilitating port improvements to accommodate increases in oil imports. And state lawmakers must remain vigilant about price gouging as the market consolidates to fewer players. CEQA requires California’s oil regulators to study, disclose and mitigate potential effects of drilling. Contrary to the industry’s narrative, CEQA is neither the cause of falling gasoline demand nor the solution to price spikes.  We should celebrate the clean energy path California is blazing, not hastily eviscerate one of its bedrock environmental laws. 

Suggested Viewing

Join us to forge
a sustainable future

Our team is always growing.
Become a partner, volunteer, sponsor, or intern today.
Let us know how you would like to get involved!

CONTACT US

sign up for our mailing list to stay informed on the latest films and environmental headlines.

Subscribers receive a free day pass for streaming Cinema Verde.
Thank you! Your submission has been received!
Oops! Something went wrong while submitting the form.