The sky was bright blue, the air crisp, the colors of the water and beach vivid. I was on Antelope Island to clear my mind. The holiday season had been unsettling. Actually, the entire election cycle had been unsettling. While I wrote this article, our country was in a lull between a political system we know (and have been not entirely sold on), and an administration intent to change things in a way we should all hope will end for the better. For everyone.

Half of our country voted differently than we did (regardless of how we voted), and somehow, understanding the other half seems nearly impossible. We can talk about silos and fake news, but these voters are half the people we dine with at the new Thai restaurant in town, who ride the ski bus with us, who visit our state parks with their dogs, who sit by us at church, who throw holiday celebrations for their families, who deeply love their children. Sometimes they are family. 

We know them, live with them, love them. And yet we feel divided. 

We have so much to be grateful for. And so much to protect. Things felt unsettled, so I went for a hike on Antelope Island State Park. My goal, to figure out:

What I am grateful for:

Clean bathrooms – The parking lot was empty, the outhouse looked abandoned, but I had to go. I considered squatting next to the car because I hate a dirty bathroom, but still I ventured in. It was clean, smelled fresh and contained several rolls of fresh paper. And I was grateful. Grateful for a state park service that clearly cares about providing the best experience for visitors. 

My bladder empty, my mood started to lift.

Safety – I'm a woman who most often hikes alone. The path that skirted the lakeside was remote, but at all times I felt safe. And I was grateful. Grateful for a state and country that values public safety. Grateful my land isn’t overrun by ongoing war or cartels. Grateful for my fellow humans who (most of them) don’t intend harm to a woman hiking alone.

Audio books – On my hike I was listening to a historical novel (WWII in Paris, in this case). I was trying to take comfort that people over time have suffered through times of greater strife than this, and we as a species, have survived. And I was grateful. Grateful for the technology I can wear in my ear, grateful for the authors who write the stories that help explain the world. And finally, grateful for a retrospective point of view. I think we can all agree things were worse during WWII, and we also know that at the end of the story, the good side wins (despite the obvious fallout), which is gratifying and soothing.

My knees – My knees are a marvel that need maintenance, so I was grateful for access to healthcare. While we might not have a perfect system, and it can be expensive and difficult to access...there is science, technology and doctors who work hard. People are trying to care for each other in this world. And if nothing else, we have ChatGPT where you can list all of your random symptoms and get a virtual diagnosis to obsess about.

Wide open country – I've visited places where all the best spots belong to individuals or hotels or golf courses or mining companies or developers (Mexico, I’m looking at you). And what a shame. Here in Utah, and in our country, we have invested in keeping equal access to beautiful places. And I was grateful. Grateful for this island in the middle of a salty lake that boasts sweeping beauty and birds and bison. 

The Great Salt Lake - And now, the star of the show. This body of water right in front of me could not be ignored. I am newly grateful for the Great Salt Lake. 

Like many of you, in the past I didn’t even consider the lake. I grew up in Murray but lived in Seattle in the 1990s. Seattle, unlike Salt Lake, is a lake-facing community, and my coworkers would ask if I’d spent much time on the Great Salt Lake. And I had to tell them I’d NEVER BEEN. Yes, I was an adult and had never been to the namesake lake of my hometown, a massive body of water, much larger than Lake Washington. And they were astounded, and when I really thought about it, so was I.

But for years we’ve all taken from, then ignored, the lake. It would be more convenient to continue to do this, but I am grateful for the Great Salt Lake, and for its continuing existence. Why?

Let’s start with air quality. The exposed bed of our shallow saline lake is coated with toxic chemicals that have accumulated over centuries (from natural and manmade causes). When the bed is exposed and these chemicals dry out and become airborne, we all breathe dust comprised of things like arsenic and mercury. The bowl-shaped valley often has the worst air quality in the United States, and ranks in the top-10 worst cities in the world. The bad air doesn't come solely from the Great Salt Lake, but lake dust is a contributor with the potential of becoming much worse. Bad air will affect our health and the economic viability of our state. So, I am grateful for the shallow layer of water protecting us from this toxic muck.

The lake creates “lake effect” snow, adding anywhere from 5% to 10% of Utah’s snow and extends the ski season by as much as five to seven weeks. That’s water to drink in the summer and tourist dollars and recreation in the winter. Grateful.

According to a study by ECONorthwest, the annual economic contribution of the Great Salt Lake is estimated at $1.7 to $2.2 billion (which is nearly as much as the ski industry...not to mention the lake effect snow season extension). The salty lake supports a brine shrimp industry that provides 40% of the food supply for aquaculture across the world. I do love a grilled salmon dinner. 

And I’m not even going to discuss the more than 10 million birds who make the critical stop at the Great Salt Lake along their annual migration.

So, heck yeah, I’m grateful for the Great Salt Lake!  

To honor and protect what I am grateful for, I resolve to:

Now it’s the New Year, the time of resolutions. Since I can’t just assume that all these things I was grateful for on my hike would forevermore be mine to enjoy, in regards to each of the above items, I resolve to:

Clean bathroom – Use my state and national parks respectfully. Not begrudge the taxes spent to maintain them or the fees I must pay to access each site. Not throw garbage into the outhouses. The signs say I shouldn’t, so I will continue to obey.

Safety – Value and respect my local police and the laws they uphold, use my vote to be sure they have the resources they need. Take precautions with my own safety by carrying pepper spray.

My knees – Go to the physical therapist and actually do physical therapy to strengthen the muscles surrounding my knees. And I will take the time to ice after playing pickle ball. I don’t know why this is so hard. 

Audio books – I already listen to too many audio books, so I will let capitalism do its work by buying the things I use, thereby ensuring they will continue to be available.

Wide open country – I’ll use my voice and my vote to be sure public lands are kept available, providing access to everyone. This is a frustrating one for me, as developers and special interests seem to have a much bigger voice than I have. At the same time, I’ll realize that growth must occur someplace, but urge that it be done for the benefit of many and not the few.

The Great Salt Lake - The lake hit its lowest level ever recorded in 2022 as a result of domestic/agricultural use and climate change. Though we’ve had a couple of good winters, it is currently at levels seen in 2021, putting us one below-average winter and one dry summer away from the record low. 

So, I resolve to pray for rain. Gov. Spencer Cox was mocked for saying we should pray for rain. But I applaud reaching to a higher power. And at the very least, praying for rain keeps the lake front of mind. 

I resolve to use my voice and resources to encourage planning for not enough rain. I will stay aware; I will contact my legislators and the legislators in lake-adjacent districts and tell them thank you, and also to continue their efforts. 

At this time, I am encouraged that representatives from both sides of the aisle are recognizing that the health of the Great Salt Lake is critical, and many are working to make the Salt Lake great again.

According to reporting at Fox 13, the Utah State Legislature has passed a number of bills and spent over a billion dollars on water conservation efforts. There are agricultural optimization bills and grants, studies on taxing public and private entities for water, allowing users to see the “true cost” of their water consumption, and yes, nonprofits (like churches, cities and schools) don’t pay equally for their water, so are not encouraged to use less. 

Historic water rights are being gifted to the lake, and laws of “use it or lose it” water rights are being changed to encourage conservation and flow downstream. Legislation was passed limiting unfettered mineral extraction. Utah has received a $50-million grant from the federal government via the Inflation Reduction Act to be used toward conservation. Stream gauges are being installed to monitor flows into the lake and evaporation during the summer. There is more public awareness and engagement about the Great Salt Lake than there has been in probably forever, like youth activist groups, symposiums and public art.

These are all good things.

 However, Speaker of the House Mike Schultz (R-Hooper) has called for a pause on major water bills for the upcoming session of the Utah State Legislature. He told Fox 13 News, “Any time you make a change, I think it’s really important that you take a pause, make sure they’re working, see what needs to be reformed and what needs to be changed. I think that’s where we’re currently at.”

This comment, while pragmatic, was discouraging to me. The world is (and will continue to be) affected by climate change, but the health of the Great Salt Lake is a bit of a bellwether. We won't see a gradual increase in wildfires or flooding. The lake is a system of salinity and collapse. But unlike global climate change, preserving the Great Salt Lake is a project in our purview. Even if droughts become more prevalent, we can preserve it by continuing to change our behavior and our laws. This particular crisis isn’t out of our control. 

And so, I resolve to keep up my spirits and my energy to affect this one thing. This one, big thing that intimately affects my health and my local economy. I resolve to continue to use my voice and my vote to make the Salt Lake great, again. λ