Skip to main content

Powering the West

In this episode – Powering the West . . .

Welcome back to On the Fly, your podcast for curious minds exploring the unexpected. Today, we're soaring across the Pacific Northwest down to sunny California, tracing the fascinating history of the Pacific Northwest–Pacific Southwest Intertie.

Imagine a massive power line stretching over 800 miles, carrying electricity from the mighty Columbia River in the Pacific Northwest to the sun-drenched valleys of California. This is the Pacific Northwest–Pacific Southwest Intertie (Intertie), a marvel of engineering that revolutionized power transmission in the Western United States.

Professor Carl Magnusson from the University of Washington had a vision as early as 1919 to create a high-voltage network that would connect the Pacific Northwest, rich in hydroelectricity, with the energy demands of the Southwest. This vision gained momentum during the droughts in California during the 1940s, highlighting the need for a reliable power source beyond local resources.

This journey from vision to reality wasn't easy. The Bonneville Power Administration (BPA), established in the 1930s, played a crucial role in promoting the Intertie's development. The Columbia River Treaty with Canada in 1961 secured increased hydropower generation, providing a reliable energy source.

What is an Intertie?

In the context of electrical power systems, an Intertie refers to an interconnection permitting the passage of electricity between two or more separate electric utility systems. It's a network of high-voltage power lines that allows for the exchange of electricity between different regions or countries. This enables “Balancing” energy needs. Regions with surplus electricity can export to areas with higher demand, improving overall grid balance, efficiency, and reliability. (The Electric Grid)

Interconnected energy systems can share resources and enhance grid stability during disruptions. Construction finally began in 1964 after overcoming numerous obstacles, including negotiations between various stakeholders.

The construction of the Intertie was a gradual process that took different phases. The Alternating Current (AC) Intertie was constructed between 1968 and 1993 and involved the progressive building of three AC lines, each increasing the Intertie's capacity.

The Pacific Direct Current (DC) Intertie was built in 1970 and marked a significant milestone as the first long-distance high voltage direct current (HVDC) line in the United States. This development significantly increased Intertie's overall capacity and efficiency.

The Pacific Northwest–Pacific Southwest Intertie is a power system that has had a significant impact on the Western United States. It allowed for the exchange of surplus hydropower from the Northwest to California, providing a reliable power source for millions during periods of peak demand. But Intertie's benefits go beyond just exchanging power. Intertie has also improved the stability and reliability of the Western US electrical system by interconnecting the power grids of two regions. Additionally, Intertie's use of clean hydropower has helped California reduce its reliance on fossil fuels, promoting a cleaner energy future.

Looking ahead, the Intertie is constantly evolving through upgrades and potential expansions to meet the region's ever-growing energy demands. It proves the benefits of collaborative efforts, highlighting the advantages of interconnected power grids and sustainable energy solutions.

So, the next time you flip on a light switch in California, remember the invisible thread connecting you to the mighty rivers of the Pacific Northwest, a testament to human ingenuity and the power of collaboration.

I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. I'll see you in the next episode.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Morning Coffee

In this episode, Morning Coffee . . . Now, I’m not saying everyone needs coffee. Some folks get by just fine on, I don’t know, sunlight and positive thinking. Me? I’m pretty sure I started drinking the stuff sometime around the Reagan administration. Reading John Gierach’s "Ode to Campfire Coffee" in Trout Bum (a book that should be required reading for anyone who sees sleeping on the ground as recreation) got me thinking about how we’ve managed to complicate something as fundamentally simple as boiling water and adding grounds. Taste, you say? Look, black coffee is an acquired taste, like tequila or cilantro. I just don’t get it. Gierach, bless his heart, mostly drinks his java streamside, probably while wearing wool socks and waders and contemplating the mysteries of the universe. As for me? My outdoor coffee experience is a bit different. Picture this: the High Sierra, where campfires are banned (to avoid agitating Smoky Bear), and I’m huddled over a Whisperlite , coax...

The Endless Work of Wisdom

It always makes me smile. The moment people learn I've officially entered what I like to call the Great Un-Working (retirement), they almost immediately ask the same question: “So . . . What do you do now?" I think they're expecting me to say I'm restoring a vintage sports car, hiking the John Muir Trail, or finally becoming fluent in French.   Instead, I tell them: "I live life deliberately." That's usually the point when I get a polite nod, followed by the unmistakable look of someone wondering whether I've simply found a more sophisticated way to say, “I’m becoming a bum.” Apparently, "living deliberately" sounds suspiciously like unemployment, just better branding. The truth is, what living deliberately looks like for me right now is taking time to synthesize a lifetime of experiences into these weekly reflections. It's slowing down long enough to ask what those experiences have taught me, while keeping the door wide open to the poss...

A Tucson Typewriter Tale

One of the great joys of wandering without much of a plan is that the universe occasionally rewards your lack of organization. During my recent visit to Tucson, AZ, Robert and I were strolling through the Annex this afternoon, doing what tourists and newly minted retirees like me have elevated to an Olympic sport: meandering. The Annex is one of those places where every few steps there's another handmade candle, artisan coffee, or vintage object someone rescued from a garage sale and convinced the rest of us was always destined to become art. Then I saw something that genuinely stopped me. A young woman standing quietly behind a manual typewriter. Not a laptop designed to look like a typewriter. Not a quirky Bluetooth keyboard. An honest-to-goodness mechanical typewriter—the sort of machine that once announced every sentence to the entire office with a satisfying clack and enough force to wake nearby pigeons. With an iPhone 16 sitting in my pocket in an age when people write novels...

A B+ Kind of Life

Welcome back to this week's On the Fly . Retirement has taught me something unexpected: life gets a lot more enjoyable when you stop chasing perfection. Lately, I've been having an absolute blast playing executive par-3 courses like Rancho Carlsbad . A short iron, a sunny morning, and nowhere to be except the next tee—that's my kind of day. This Thursday, though, I'm raising the stakes. I'm heading to The Links at Lakehouse in San Marcos, a full-size par-71 course with enough water hazards to keep the local fish well-stocked with my golf balls. After shooting a 64 on a par-3 course, I've set myself a new goal: shoot an 89 before my birthday next August. Why 89? Because on a par-71 course, that's bogey golf—one extra stroke per hole. For non-golfers, think of it this way: par is like earning 100% on a final exam. Bogey golf is a solid B+. You got the job done, learned something, and probably had a lot more fun getting there. The older I get, the more I appre...