Megaproject: Lake Kennedy

As the dam rose skyward, the number of men working on it fell. Fewer cement men were needed to manage its tapering top, and the northern powerhouse was not a time-sensitive project. It would take almost a decade and a half for the reservoir to reach capacity and provide a high enough water table to power those generators. The layoffs came thick and fast in 1984 and 1985, but slowed afterward as the first generators began to be installed in the southern powerhouse.

Just as dam work began to slow, global oil prices plummeted as a result of Saudi Arabia slashing prices. This virtually halted new exploration on Alaska’s North Slope, reducing demand for services in Fairbanks still further. During the boom times of the pipeline and dam, the city had become overbuilt, and retailers that had relied on free-spending workers relaxing after time in construction camps suddenly faced hard times. Development plans were put on hold, then abandoned altogether. More than a few homeowners simply left their keys at the bank that held their mortgage before catching a flight out of town. So many cars were abandoned at the airport that the city was unable to find buyers for them at auction.

Adding to the problem was an influx of displaced Alaska Bush village residents. More than 1,500 people were displaced by Lake Kennedy’s rising waters, and most made their way to Fairbanks. Many lived a subsistence lifestyle, catching or growing their food, and the Western way of life was foreign to them. Holding down a regular job was a new experience, and even if they had lived in a village and were familiar with town life, their family connections were broken and they had to start over again. More than a few turned to drinking, their only income coming from interest checks provided by all Alaska Native corporations to their respective groups and tribes.

Further intensifying the village flight was the increased cost of life in the villages. Construction of the dam interrupted barge traffic to most river communities in east-central Alaska, and flying in items became the main source of supply for many of these villages. The resulting increased costs drove more than a few families to Fairbanks or Anchorage in search of stable work. Making matters worse was the wildlife shortage upstream of the dam. As Lake Kennedy inundated the Yukon Flats, the moose, waterfowl and fur-bearing animal population similarly plummeted. These factors crippled subsistence life in east-central Alaska and caused more than a few complaints among the 40% of the Fairbanks population that enjoyed hunting in the flats.

In Fairbanks, the unemployment led to a great deal of grumbling about hiring practices at the dam construction site, with many disaffected workers claiming that the Corps of Engineers was hiring workers from the Lower 48 instead of people from Alaska. Despite attempts by the Corps of Engineers to show the rumor was false, bad feelings toward the dam project persisted for several years. The grousers did not appreciate those who pointed out that the truck traffic through Fairbanks and the need for Fairbanks to be a supply point for the dam undoubtedly generated quite a few more jobs than might otherwise have been there.

Alaska again voted strongly in favor of President Reagan in the 1984 national race, and in 1985, shortly after Reagan’s re-election, he began negotiations with the Canadian government for an improved shared electrical grid between the two countries. In addition to interties between the Quebec/Ontario grid and New England, he pushed for joining Alaska’s power grid to that of the Yukon and British Columbia. The latter was connected to the United States through interties in Washington, and further connections could theoretically allow electricity from Rampart to power televisions and electronics in Washington. The negotiations went quickly because of the close relations between the two countries, previous agreements along similar lines, and the obvious utility of the agreement. Though criticized in some corners for putting the cart before the horse — Rampart was still years away from generating its first electricity — Reagan’s move was praised in Alaska. It also was seen a move geared at compensating Yukon Territory residents for the effect the dam was having on upper Yukon salmon.

In the late 1980s, work on the dam continued much as it had done through the early 1980s and late 1970s. Concrete was poured, men shaped and flattened it, and more concrete was poured atop it. At the base of the dam, the southern powerhouse was completed and the first nine turbines and generators were installed, but there was as yet no water to turn them. Work on the footings for the northern powerhouse also proceeded, albeit extremely slowly, as this work was not useful until Lake Kennedy rose to a higher level.
At this point in construction, far more attention was paid to the effect the dam was having on the stocks of Yukon River salmon than to the actual construction. The enormous fish ladder was completed in 1980, well before the river’s flow was entirely diverted by the dam. Taking into consideration the problems endured by debris and ice clogging the diversion tunnels, screens were put into place in the temporary sluices through the dam that allowed water to flow through and keep the Yukon flowing downstream. Though these sluices succeeded in keeping the lower Yukon navigable, the screens blocked spawning salmon from swimming upstream in a way that the diversion tunnels did not.

Thus, when the sluices were put into action in spring 1982, so too was the fish ladder. But because the downstream flow of fish also was blocked by the screens in the sluices, enormous protests were raised before the sluices and ladder began operating. Engineers had proposed an elaborate fish collection system that involved a crane lifting a collection of juvenile fish over the dam and into the downstream portion of the river. After initial attempts proved less than successful and widespread protests continued, engineers bowed to popular opinion and removed the grates.

Despite their fears, debris and ice did not clog the sluices, and juvenile fish were permitted to move downstream with the flow of the river. Once completed, the fish would simply slide down the spillway with excess water, avoiding the turbine intakes, which were protected by screens.

With downstream access assured, fishermen’s attention again returned to the fish ladder and fish swimming upstream. Regulations against workers fishing at the construction site — used during the trans-Alaska pipeline construction — were again put into place, and strict monitoring was done to ensure no workers took any salmon from the fish ladder or resting basins as they made the lengthy climb upstream.
 
In treaty negotiations with Canada, the United States agreed to reimburse Canadian salmon fishermen if a set number of salmon did not pass a sonar counter at Eagle, on the river near the Canadian border. There was thus a great deal of pressure to ensure that the most salmon possible reached the upstream portions of the river. As the salmon arrived in June and July 1982, some defects were revealed in the system. The resting basins were too small to contain the enormous numbers of fish that arrived, and some fish died from being crushed as schools attempted to use the ladder en masse. Other fish found gaps in the barriers directing them to the ladder’s entrance and became trapped between the dam and barrier, eventually dying after battering themselves on the dam concrete.

All told, an estimated 30% of the salmon in that year’s run failed to make it to their spawning grounds, a far higher percentage than normal. The Corps of Engineers reacted to the popular outrage with a massive public relations campaign revolving around the construction of two fish hatcheries and advertising the fishing opportunities that would be available once Lake Kennedy was fully formed.

The real changes came in modifications to the fish ladder, which resulted in improved survival for the salmon run. Nevertheless, fishermen were not placated by improvements to the system, and many remained dissatisfied even after the dam was completed and Lake Kennedy filled.

As the waters rose, they carried with them no small amount of debris, which was carried to the hillsides by waves and wind. It was mostly driftwood — some of which was harvested by lumber mills — but there also were water-logged moose, bear, wolverines, and other animals displaced by the lake. Just as restrictions on fishing were put into effect near the dam site, so were limits placed on hunting. Without that guidance, the population surge in the area surely would have had a far greater effect on wildlife.

Another major effect of the creation of Lake Kennedy was a change in central Alaska’s weather. As Lake Kennedy grew, it increased the amount of moisture available in central Alaska. In the summer, the lake spawns large thunderstorms, which can cause rough conditions on the water. Occasional waterspouts have been seen, but because of the relatively undeveloped nature of the lakeshore, these storms have caused little effect.

Lake Kennedy’s far more noticeable weather feature is lake-effect snow. In October and November, temperatures in central Alaska plunge below freezing, but the season is early enough that the lake has not frozen all the way across. In these months, the areas south and east of the lake are some of the snowiest in the United States. In an average October, about 20 inches (50 cm) of snow falls in Eagle, the nearest town southeast of the lake. A similar amount falls in November, precipitation falls off in December, then almost stops from December through May, when the lake is frozen. Lake Kennedy does not have as much lake-effect snow as the Great Lakes, because its northern latitude does not allow as much summer heating and thus the temperature difference between the lake and the atmosphere is not as great as it is on the Great Lakes.

After the lake freezes completely over in December, it can be walked across or driven across by snowmachines or automobiles. In February, the lake hosts the Kennedy 500, a 500-mile circuit sled dog race that both starts and ends in Eagle.

In 1986, Alaska Gov. Terry Miller was defeated by Democrat Steve Cowper, partially because of revelations that Miller had terminal bone cancer. Three years after his electoral loss, he died of the disease. The tourist information center in Eureka is named in his honor, and construction of it began in 1987. Despite that apparent backlash against the Republican Party, Alaska went for Bush in the 1988 presidential election, and has voted for the GOP candidate in every presidential election since.

By 1990, the water level in Lake Kennedy reached a level of 420 feet above sea level — or more than 250 feet deep at the dam. This was sufficiently high for the second set of sluices — those at the 400-foot level — to be opened. These were opened in April 1990, and after a series of checks and testing to ensure they could operate correctly, the lower sluices were closed for the final time. The switch was done because the water pressure in the lower sluices at the base of the spillway blocks was more than enough to create a navigable river downstream. In effect, the dam was allowing more water through than it needed to, slowing the pace of Lake Kennedy’s rise.
After the steel gates of the lower sluices were closed, the tunnels were drained, dried, and filled with two enormous cement plugs. The seven sluices were plugged twice — once at the point where the steel gates were located deep within the dam, and again at the face of the dam, thus creating a smooth, unbroken cement surface.

Away from the dam itself, work was completed on the electrical connections from the dam east, to Fairbanks, and west, to Manley Hot Springs. The enormous electrical substations and transformers needed to convert the electricity generated by the dam for long-distance travel were installed in summer 1989. The work was completed in early 1990, ahead of the planned switching on of the first turbines and generators later that year.

In the 1990 Alaska gubernatorial election, Gov. Cowper was replaced by Republican Walter Hickel, who had served as the state’s second governor. Because Hickel did not win the Republican primary, he elected to run on the Alaskan Independence Party ticket and won as a third-party candidate. Although he was technically a member of the AIP, he governed as a Republican and renounced his AIP status halfway through his term.

With the lower siphons closed, the pace of filling Lake Kennedy quickened slightly, and it was thus on July 4, 1991, that the startup of Rampart’s first two turbines was done. These were not the enormous things that power much of Alaska — instead, they were smaller models intended to power the electrical needs of the dam itself. Nevertheless, the ceremony for switching on the generators turned by those first turbines attracted a crowd. The date selected for the ceremony was done for obvious reasons, and Gov. Hickel was joined by Interior Secretary Manuel Luljan and Energy Secretary James David Watkins.

With the United States still in a fit of patriotic fervor after the conclusion of the Gulf War, the flag-bedecked ceremony at Rampart Dam was portrayed as a means by which the United States could wean itself from foreign energy supplies — just as had been done almost 20 years before, during the oil crisis of the Nixon years.

After the ceremony concluded, the real work on energizing the first four of the southern powerhouse’s nine main generators began. The turbines and generators had been installed for several years, but the level of Lake Kennedy had not risen high enough for them to be used. Even at this stage, the water level was barely above the minimum needed to run the turbines, and the amount of electricity generated was minimal.
 
As always great. :)

Q: earlier you mentioned the difficulties in keeping cement from drying before the next layer was poured, lest a weak point be created. How are similar weak points avoided in filling in the sluices? I have to assume the cement surrounding them can safely be called "dry" by this point, so some method must be needed to avoid the weak points in the dam.
 
As always great. :)

Q: earlier you mentioned the difficulties in keeping cement from drying before the next layer was poured, lest a weak point be created. How are similar weak points avoided in filling in the sluices? I have to assume the cement surrounding them can safely be called "dry" by this point, so some method must be needed to avoid the weak points in the dam.

Thanks for the question! They are weak points, but only in the sense that gates are the weakest point in a castle. Because they've been anticipated, engineering corrections have been made in the surrounding structure to compensate. The steel gates of the sluices are lowered and cemented into place when the sluices are sealed, and two large cement plugs are created between that steel gate and the outer air. In effect, you have three different walls between Lake Kennedy and the downstream face of the dam.
 
The first electricity was transmitted to the nearby Rampart village construction staging site on August 12, 1991. By December, Rampart power was being delivered to Manley Hot Springs and Fairbanks. At first, only limited amounts were available. But as Lake Kennedy grew deeper, so did the well of electricity that those locations could draw upon.

The winter of 1991 was one of the last when the unusual meteorological phenomenon known as “ice fog” was seen in Rampart Gorge and Fairbanks. In sub-zero conditions with low humidity and no wind, any water vapor released into the air — whether through human respiration, automobile engines, or water left open into the air — will begin to evaporate. But because of the extremely low temperatures, the air’s moisture-carrying capacity is almost zero. Instead of becoming humidity, the evaporating air forms suspended ice crystals. In confined areas, such as valleys, or when there is a lack of wind, several days of appropriate conditions will create deep layers of suspended ice crystals — ice fog.

The confined walls of Rampart Gorge and the overwhelming number of idling vehicles meant ice fog was an ever-present fact of life in the gorge during the early phases of construction. Ice fog also was extremely common in Fairbanks starting in the 1950s, as that city — which occupies the Tanana Valley — experienced growth from military construction, the pipeline, and the dam.

After electricity from the dam replaced diesel generators at the construction site and a coal-fired power plant in Fairbanks, both locations saw the virtual elimination of ice fog. At the dam site, only extended periods of -40 weather would cause the fog to return, and it would disappear as soon as temperatures moderated. In Fairbanks, not even extreme temperatures caused ice fog. Cheap electricity rendered wood stoves and oil-fired boilers — the most common form of heat in the area — obsolete, and the shutdown of the town’s coal-fired power plant removed a source of emissions and a source of heat that caused the Chena River in the middle of town to remain unfrozen.

In Fairbanks, the arrival of electric power from the dam put to rest the persistent conspiracy theory that the dam was never intended to work at all — that it was merely a jobs project pushed through by Alaska’s long-lived U.S. Congressional delegation for the benefit of Alaskans and whichever corporations lobbied for it the hardest. It also drove the price of electricity in Fairbanks into the cellar.

As more and more electricity was generated by the dam’s turbines, the cost of power in Fairbanks plummeted from 7.7 cents per kilowatt/hour to 0.3 cents per kilowatt/hour. Golden Valley Electric Company, which supplies Fairbanks and the surrounding area with electricity, stopped buying electricity from the city’s coal-fired power plant and its own diesel generators and started buying it from the dam. The lessened demand for diesel caused diesel fuel prices to drop slightly in Interior Alaska, and the city-owned coal-fired power plant was shut down. It was sold to a developer in 1994, who demolished it and built an upscale hotel-restaurant complex on the riverbank.

Back in 1980, the Alaska Legislature voted to provide $150 million to build an electrical intertie between Fairbanks and Anchorage and Anchorage and Kenai, thus creating a unified electrical grid for most of Alaska. Though it looks scarcely impressive today, the 350 KV intertie was an undertaking that compares with that of the trans-Alaska Pipeline. To reach Anchorage from Fairbanks, the intertie had to cross two mountain ranges, including the tallest in North America — the Alaska Range. It also had to cross areas vulnerable to wildfires, the Denali Fault — site of some of the biggest recorded American earthquakes — several rivers, and more than 400 miles of open ground.

Thus, when dam electricity was available for sale in Fairbanks, it almost immediately was also available in Anchorage and the rest of Southcentral Alaska as well. The availability of Rampart electricity disrupted the economics of electricity production to an enormous extent. Though only a limited amount of the very low-cost Rampart power was available in 1991, when it was connected to the grid, it proceeded to disrupt the state’s economy.

Electrical co-ops across Alaska refused to negotiate new contracts with electrical power stations because they knew massive amounts of almost-free power were just around the corner. In Anchorage, groups like the Chugach Electric Association and the Matanuska Electric Association refused to pay the higher costs of electricity generated from burning natural gas from the Cook Inlet — the body of water that connects the Gulf of Alaska to Anchorage.

In turn, the natural gas providers refused to lower their rates, saying that they could not do so profitably. In turn, the electrical co-ops of Southcentral demanded more electricity from Rampart — which could not be provided until Lake Kennedy rose higher. This led to an odd bidding war in which Alaska’s electrical co-ops fought against each other for the right to buy Rampart’s power. Thus, in the first years after Rampart began generating power, its electricity was sold for far more than the 0.3 cents/KwH it ultimately was worth. Because of this, the cost of electricity in Alaska did not immediately plummet — instead, it was a gradual decline throughout the 1990s.

In 1992 and 1993, the enormous steel spillway gates were built atop the seven blocks of the Rampart spillway. Because of their great weight, parts of the gate had to be delivered via barge, just as the turbines and generators were. For all their size, the gates are simple in design. They are of a type known as the Tainter gate, and in cross-section, they have the shape of a pizza slice held horizontally. Where the crust would be is a wall of steel, holding back the top 50 feet or so of Lake Kennedy. At the point of the slice is the pivot point, which is connected to the gate with two crossed steel trusses.

The gate can pivot upward, allowing water through the gap between the bottom of the steel wall and the concrete of the dam, or it can pivot downward, sealing the gap and permitting no water to pass through. The spillways are located at an elevation of 635 feet — five feet below the surface of Lake Kennedy — and in an emergency can drain 603,000 cubic feet of water per second (17,075 m3/s) from the lake.

In summer 1992, workers finished the concrete work of the spillway and began raising the metal gates into position. Three were emplaced that first summer, and the last four were put into place during summer 1993. Because the level of Lake Kennedy was still far below the gates, however, the upper sluices still spilled water in enormous jets from the face of the dam. Only when water reached the spillways would those be sealed as had the lower sluices.
 

Oddball

Monthly Donor
Sorry Oddball was right about the construction process, so I had to do a major rewrite.

I presume this implies that I can comment further in this thread without beeing "called names?" :rolleyes:

As always great. :)

Q: earlier you mentioned the difficulties in keeping cement from drying before the next layer was poured, lest a weak point be created. How are similar weak points avoided in filling in the sluices? I have to assume the cement surrounding them can safely be called "dry" by this point, so some method must be needed to avoid the weak points in the dam.

Thanks for the question! ...

This problem is solved with a concept called "injection."

After the first concrete structure have been cured but before the concrete of the second is poured, several tiny hoses are mounted. When both structures have cured, microcement or compounds of suitable consistence is pressuriced in between them through the hoses.

This means that often the joint between them in many cases are stronger than the two concrete structures themselfes.

Even if you have three "barriers," this will be done with all of them.
 
Throughout 1992 and 1993, work also continued on the rest of the dam’s concrete structure. Where the spillways consisted of 460 feet of concrete and 50 feet of steel gate, the rest of the dam was 510 feet of concrete rising from the riverbed into the sky. At the far northern end of the dam, the 62nd block in all, a tall end wall was built, stretching from the face of the dam eastward to a hillside. This was among the final major pieces of concrete work to be done, and it was completed in summer 1994.

Finishing work consumed most of summer 1994, but the dam was ready for its great dedication gala on September 20, 1994. President Bill Clinton was on hand, making his first and only visit to Alaska, as he cut the ceremonial ribbon that inaugurated the dam’s service. It was the culmination of more than 21 years of physical work, and even more than that, if you considered the planning work that stretched back to the days after World War II, when engineers surveyed the entire territory of Alaska and found no better spot for a hydroelectric dam than Rampart. But for all the celebratory speeches and articles declaring how Rampart Dam was finally complete, the work was far from over.

In 1994, as the dam was dedicated, the surface of Lake Kennedy lay more than 120 feet below the crest of Rampart. As part of the commissioning ceremony, President Clinton activated the next five of Rampart’s electrical turbines, bringing its total to nine, generating about 2 gigawatts of electricity. This total was already far more than all the electricity used in every part of the state — including those areas not connected to the Alaska electrical grid — but as the price of electricity plummeted in that year in the next, demand spiked as people switched from heating their homes with natural gas to heating them with electric heaters.

In 1994, Alaskans were burning the equivalent of 3.5 gigawatts worth of natural gas to heat their homes. Much of this gas was replaced by natural gas as more Rampart electricity became available. In some places, the switch didn’t take place for reasons of simple economics or location. Barrow, at the northernmost tip of Alaska, for example, hasn’t been connected to the Rampart-Alaska grid, and thus continues to heat its homes and generate power with natural gas. And in some places of Southcentral, the easy availability of natural gas and low demand means that for home heating purposes at least, it can compete with Rampart electricity.

That wasn’t immediately apparent in the mid-1990s, however, and it appeared for a brief period that Alaska alone would consume almost all of Rampart’s electrical production as homes and businesses switched to electric heat. This endangered the feasibility of the treaty-defined electrical intertie between Delta Junction — the far eastern end of the Rampart energy grid — and Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. Work on that intertie had begun in 1992, after several years of negotiations that began with President Reagan’s agreement with Canada.

The intertie was scheduled to be completed in 1996, but the mammoth project — which also included spurs connecting Whitehorse to Juneau, Alaska, and the northern reaches of British Columbia’s electrical grid — was suddenly of questionable utility as Alaska demand spiked. To compensate, engineers rushed ahead with the construction of the northern powerhouse, even though the original plans did not call for it to be completed until well after Lake Kennedy was filled.

Tomorrow will be the final installment.
 
Excellent, just spent a good few hours over the last few days reading and have thoroughly enjoyed your timeline


And I would second the idea of a Severn Barrage tl as mentioned above
 
Glad you like it. My next project -- already in the writing stages -- is The Manhattan Project, or How I stopped worrying and learned to love the ICBM.

After that, I'll be tackling a history of the Alaskan Revolution.
 
Although the work went quickly, it was limited by the ability of manufacturers in the United States and elsewhere to supply the 13 enormous generators and turbines that would fill the powerhouse. To hurry completion, the Corps of Engineers added subcontractors, some in China — a move that drew harsh criticism from some U.S. Congressmen whose districts hoped to eventually supply the turbines.

Nevertheless, the orders went forward, were filled, and the generators were installed in just four years. By October 2000, Rampart was operating at full power and supplying a constant flow of more than 5 gigawatts of electricity to the far reaches of North America. The topping off of Lake Kennedy, which was finished in fall 1999, went largely unremarked outside Alaska. The United States had had its gala celebration, and for almost everyone outside Alaska, the project was already finished.

Almost a decade has passed since Rampart became fully powered, and its effects have proved as wide-ranging as might have been hoped by its original promoters — though they could have hardly predicted the form they would take. When the dam was first proposed, oil had not yet been discovered at Prudhoe Bay. Today, Rampart electricity powers Alaska’s three oil refineries, converting the crude oil that Alaska is best known for into gasoline for Alaska automobiles.

Those promoters hoped that cheap electricity would draw electricity-intensive industries like aluminum smelting to Alaska, but they could not have foreseen how Alaskans would switch almost en masse to electric heat, drawing off most of Rampart’s excess potential. So great is the demand in Alaska and the Yukon today, that the price of Rampart electricity has begun to rise, albeit slightly.

With the way Alaska’s energy grid has been connected to the rest of the United States and Canada, Rampart electricity can “power a toaster in Phoenix,” just as the dam’s promoters proclaimed — but only if the Phoenix energy company is willing to pay for transmission losses. As improvements in electrical transmission progress, that dream might become a two-edged sword, allowing American energy companies to bid against Alaskan ones for Rampart power, returning Alaska’s energy costs to what they were before Rampart’s boon.

For all its success, Rampart still has its doubters. Environmental groups continue to ask if the inundation of the Yukon Flats was worth it, and Native groups continually reference the forced exodus of entire villages in the name of progress. Historians lament the loss of archaeological sites, gold rush-era artifacts, and all the other unknowns that now lie beneath Lake Kennedy.
Even the economists wonder if the dam will ever be paid off in full through electricity sales. Though rising demand now means the dam is scheduled to be paid off in full by 2032, well ahead of schedule, maintenance costs are predicted to rise, and the threat of global climate change might mean reduced flow on the Yukon, again possibly causing problems.

With all these issues, the dam is still a powerful political and social factor in Alaska politics. Every year on May 12, a handful of environmentalists host a ceremonial “funeral” in Eureka, commemorating the start of construction with black bunting and angry signs. Though the crowd has grown far smaller in recent years, it’s a constant reminder of the dam’s effect on the environmental movement, which paradoxically flourished in the years after construction began. Several groups used the dam’s example to great effect in marketing campaigns outside Alaska, and dam removal on the Columbia River has had some success.

On the opposite end of the American political spectrum, Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin returned Rampart to the American consciousness during her vice-presidential run in the 2008 national election. Though she and Republican presidential candidate John McCain lost the election, her push for increasing domestic American energy production to counter America’s dependence on foreign oil was centered on the success of Rampart Dam. The slogan “Dam, Baby, Dam” is still remembered widely across the United States, as is her proposal for additional dams in Alaska, California, and the Pacific Northwest with the goal of eventual American energy independence.

Though it is far from the center of American politics, the dam has thus guided the flow of American life, just as it does the Yukon River. And just like its influence on the Yukon, Rampart’s impact on American life will surely last for a long time to come.
 
{Standing Ovation}

Bravo!! Bravisimo!!

Loved it, every little detail politically, environmentally, and engineering-wise.

Looking forward to the ICBM project, or whatever you do next.
 
Dam, baby, Dam! That's fantastic, though having Sarah Palin associated with it can't help the cause of future dams in the US.
 
I only wish the POD had been earlier; that would've let me create a few more butterflies. But as you see from the ending, there's starting to be a few of those.
 
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