Last week I raised the possibility of saying “no” to new development. It would be complicated and require zone changes and lots of political heat. But a decision that Summit County and all its towns are full, finished, and complete would be great for the environment.
It would, of course, be a disaster for people trying to get a foothold in the community. The resulting scarcity would only make the housing supply/demand imbalance even worse. We would end up with a county filled with the second or third homes of the very wealthy, and at least inside Park City, their domestic staff living in subsidized housing. Anybody in the middle of that wide spread would be out of luck.
So all of our problems can’t be solved by throttling supply. We need to look at the demand side of the equation. How do we solve that one?
Ask yourself this question: “I would move to Summit County except for [fill in the blank.]“
There have been a lot of ways to fill in the blank through the years. A big one used to be that giving up a secure salary and promising career to move here to tune skis for a living was not a reasonable choice. The combination of the internet and Covid spoiled that one.
When I first moved into town (contributing to growth), there were solid excuses like the drinking water was laced with arsenic and other weird stuff. When water came out of the tap, which was by no means a given, you never knew what color it would be. I think that at deterred some folks.
The streets in Old Town weren’t paved. Back when we all had rear-wheel drive cars, tire chains were a necessity around here. I lived on Ontario Avenue and often wished there was a winch to get up the hill. But then the city paved the streets, bought snow plows, and cleaned up the water. See what happened?
We have public services that work — a fire truck or ambulance will show up when you call 911. Medical care is available and you don’t have to drive yourself to Salt Lake with a 2×6 attached your arm after shooting yourself with a nail gun.
There are retail options beyond the Mt. Air Market and Alpha Beta. All make life here convenient and comfortable, but are truly opportunities lost when it comes to repelling growth.
Traffic seems like the serious system failure that would convince people not to make the move. The problem is that where ever they are coming from is so much worse that, bad as locals think it is, it’s a big improvement over Los Angeles or Atlanta. We’re doing our best to completely destroy the transportation system — the housing at the film studio, a Maverick station at Quinns, anything that happens at Kimball, and it will surely get worse.
But compared to Dallas? No problem.
Is there nothing we can do that will slow growth by attacking the demand side of the problem? Well, there is. I’ve offered this solution before and it hasn’t taken off, but maybe it’s an idea whose time has come. I offer you: The Entry Corridor Auto Wrecking Yard.
In its first iteration, there was no growth in Snyderville to speak of, so the proposal was to stack a pile of junk cars more or less at the intersection of Payday Drive and S.R. 224. It wouldn’t take a lot of them. Stacked perpendicular to the road, about three or four high and several cars long, a wall of rotting Buicks and DeSotos would send a clear message that this is not the kind of place people of a certain class want to live. The arrangement would be flexible, and if the economy slowed and the housing imbalance cleared, they could be stacked differently to be less visible. With a little crane work, it would be more or less a development thermostat, fully adjustable to the conditions.
Because the idea was rejected years ago, growth is rampant. We now may need several entry corridor auto wrecking yards. Places like Kimball Junction, of course 224, a couple of spots on 248 in Hideout and Kamas, and S.R. 32 in Francis and Oakley. And U.S. 40.
The logistics are also a little more difficult now. It would take a lot of junked Subarus to make a significant stack. But a few Suburbans and full-size pickups would had some bulk. And then there’s the issue of mixing in the Porsches and Range Rovers, which hardly make the same statement as a rusted out Buick Vista Cruiser wagon with the fake wood paneling flapping in the breeze. But the right mix could be curated, even if we have to import them because people around here trade cars in when the tires show some wear.
People of moderate means have seen such things before in towns dominated by closed factories and other industrial sites. The Malibu set would swoon and recoil in horror at the prospect of moving to a place with a growth-management auto wrecking yard at the entrance to town.
It’s worth a try, and I will consult on the project for a modest fee. I even have an old combine to contribute to the cause.
Tom Clyde practiced law in Park City for many years. He lives on a working ranch in Woodland and has been writing this column since 1986.