Some standards for wind farms
Toolbox
By JUSTIN LINDHOLM - Published: July 1, 2009
Regarding the proposed wind turbines in Ira, I stand in the rather unique position of owning a mountaintop in Ira, as well as land near and along the ridgeline of a section of Lempster Mountain in Lempster, N.H., where 12 wind turbines are presently in operation.
Most people are admirers of all forms of renewable energy — when sited and scaled properly. I have spoken in favor of the turbine site around Grandpa Knob, and I also find the siting and scale of the Lempster, N.H., turbines to be acceptable.
But when the wind power company of Lempster wanted me and one of my neighbors to sign on for four wind turbines on our undeveloped land on Lempster Mountain, we flatly turned down their lucrative offer. Consequently, there are only 12 turbines in this project instead of the originally proposed 16. I refused to accept turbines on my property because I felt that their presence at this location would have been shocking (other than electrically) to many of my residential neighbors.
When I talked to some of my neighbors, they expressed the concern that, because the wind industry is so new, there are no state standards for where, or where not, to place wind turbines. It frustrated these neighbors to know that the placement of turbines is basically just up to the land owner and the wind power company, much like the placement of power dams on rivers in years past, when that industry was new.
After hearing these concerns, I came to realize that both New Hampshire and Vermont should consider the following commonsense standards for large turbine siting:
Where people, from their residences, have to look at large turbines up close and at a severe upward angle, these people should be compensated.
No turbines should be stacked in a line along well-defined long ridges. My section of the mountain in Lempster consists of a well-defined ridge where the towers would have looked like marching metal monsters from two directions. At the site where the 12 turbines are now located, the mountain is very wide, with undulating terrain and five different, randomly located peaks. Because of this terrain, it is almost impossible to see the whole silhouette of more than seven of these turbines from most viewing angles. Some of these turbines always seem to be tucked away into the varied terrain, even though they actually stick up high in the air. By the way, I believe the designers of the Searsburg wind tower site also did a good job of making their turbines look like they are tucked into the terrain when viewed from surrounding areas.
The reason I am in favor of the Grandpa Knob site is because the wide and varied terrain there will tend to make many of its towers less pronounced when viewed from the surrounding area. In contrast, almost all of the Ira turbines will stick out mightily because those mountains are basically just tall, long, narrow ridges, where the turbines can't appear tucked in.
So as not to overburden any one community in our small state, each wind farm should be limited to about 15 of the two-megawatt turbines, like those at Lempster. The Ira site proposes to have 45 turbines, each of which would be up to 100 feet taller than the 400-foot monsters at Lempster, when measured from the ground to the tip of the top blade.
If these sensible standards are followed, I'm sure there are many Lempster-size sites in Vermont capable of powering 10,000 homes each. But we should also be thinking of developing several large solar array sites, which, in my opinion would complement wind energy and be less visually intrusive.
I shall end this piece by mentioning the almost pristine Birdseye valley, which is between Herrick Mountain and Birdseye Mountain (aka Bird Mountain). This valley, only six miles from Rutland, is a rare jewel which contains thousands of undeveloped acres and is bordered and defined by miles of undeveloped ridgeline (where the turbines would be). This valley is almost unique in Vermont, where cliffs of over 100 feet can be found on each side. Whenever I take people to the top of Birdseye, who haven't been there before, it amuses me to see and hear their expressions as they see for the first time, in its entirety, this exquisitely beautiful valley. "Oh!-My!-God!" is one expression I've heard.
Just the other day I watched a rare peregrine falcon chase a marauding hawk away from her nesting area on Birdseye's 300-foot cliffs, and drive him out of the valley. Her cries were shrill as she let him know, "Not here!" How poetic.
Justin Lindholm is a resident of Mendon.
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