Park City Council election season is upon us, my friends, and this one has lined up to be a different kind of animal than the past couple of contests. I must point out there are no sexy curveballs like myself on the ballot. I will also note that nobody seems to care about pickleball courts, mural placement, or kids bombing the Rail Trail at 40 mph on e-bikes anymore. This year it’s personal. Emotional. Cathartic for some, and confusing for others.
People say they want “unity,” but too often that means “fall in line.” And those who don’ — those who ask hard questions or say, “Wait, is this really the best idea?” — get labeled obstructionist, negative or worse. I’ve seen it first hand. And I’ve seen who the arrows are aimed at.
So here’s my attempt to slow the conversation down, unpack a few things, and look at where we actually are.
Let’s use Clark Ranch as a case study. On July 10, the City Council voted 3–2 to spend $725,000 — nearly a million bucks — to study how to squeeze a two-lane road, bike path, and berms into a hillside the Citizens Open Space Advisory Committee said not to touch for a project already far larger than the committee ever envisioned. The study alone is now costing triple what was originally proposed to accommodate this mutation.
This isn’t about villainizing anyone. I believe every council member wants what’s best for Park City. But intentions alone don’t build roads — or protect neighborhoods, or protect open space. Decisions do. And it’s fair to ask hard questions about those decisions.
Council member Ryan Dickey (now running for mayor) asked zero questions, then voted yes. Council member Tana Toly recited a prewritten speech on momentum, then did the same. The third “yes” came from Ed, who appeared to waver but ultimately voted to approve — because, as everyone in the room seemed to understand, no one wants to be seen as voting against affordable housing.
Meanwhile, Park City Heights families — who will get the headlights, noise and fundamental change of complexion to their neighborhood — had just pleaded for a rethink. They were thanked for their time and promptly outvoted.
We’re told the road has been in the works for years. Half true. Back in 2015–16, COSAC said that if Clark Ranch was ever developed, it should be modest in scale and accessed through Park City Heights — not by paving the fire access road abutting open space.
Fast forward to now: The project has ballooned, the road COSAC warned against is front and center, and staff says the 200+ units could bring 2,000 car trips per day. Council members audibly balked at that number — then voted to spend $725,000 studying how to make it happen anyway. But hey — it’s been in the works for years, so why stop now? Same file folder, totally different project.
This isn’t just about one road. Bonanza Park’s 80‑page upzone now reads like a developer’s wish list: more height, smaller setbacks, less open space. Council member Jeremy Rubell noticed. In a recent Town Lift article about Bonanza Park, Rubell asked, “Why give more than what’s required to meet our goals?” — the kind of question you’d think every elected official would ask. Instead, he’s labeled an obstructionist and Park City Heights residents who speak out are stigmatized as NIMBYs. Funny how asking for guardrails has become controversial.
Some candidates this year are selling “unity.” Sounds lovely. But unity around what — scrutiny, or silence? I’ve seen what happens when we confuse harmony with homework: Anaya’s was bulldozed before there was a real Bonanza Park plan or a single dollar budgeted.
Jack Rubin, now also running for mayor, once said in a Park City TV interview what too many in office forget: Lawmakers often “pass stuff with no idea what its implications are.” In that same segment, he added that one of the most important things he’d learned in his career is to “spend a lot of time trying to figure out the consequences of your decisions before you make them.”
That’s the philosophy we need — and the one Jeremy Rubell brings every time he takes his seat on the dais. He voted “no” on the Clark Ranch road study, questioned the widening of S.R. 224, and forced extra scrutiny on Bonanza Park before City Hall handed out entitlements we can’t take back. He’s the reason downtown redevelopment got pulled back into public view instead of sliding through in a blur of momentum. He’s willing to pump the brakes until the math, the map and the neighbors all line up. That makes some folks uncomfortable. Good. Democracy should itch a little.
Contrast that with July 10: Dickey told Park City Heights residents, if he lived there, “I would feel the same way, and I would say the same thing, and I would have the same objections.” Yet he still voted to push the project forward, saying it’s his objective to move forward with housing in this location — doubling down on the site while sidestepping the bigger question of whether it ever made sense here to begin with. Toly emphasized the years already spent on planning, saying it’s time to “move forward” — framing any delay or reconsideration as a step backward, or worse, as giving up on affordable housing altogether.
But the current plan isn’t what COSAC originally recommended, so why lean so heavily on past support for something that’s fundamentally changed and significantly more expensive?
And let’s be honest: This road isn’t just about access for one housing project. It’s MIDA’s foothold. Once Park City commits to the first phase, it gives MIDA the opening to finish what’s been started — and reshape the entire stretch between Park City and East Village. This isn’t just about affordable housing anymore. It’s about laying the groundwork for growth the city may neither want nor control. Good intentions can’t justify a bad fit, and moving forward shouldn’t mean paving the way for consequences no one’s willing to name.
Park City’s character is built on thoughtful pauses. We saved Treasure Hill, Round Valley, the library field, the Mine Bench, the Gordo lot. We even saved PC Hill back in the day, so they say. And forgive me for not naming more. Recently, when Main Street redevelopment came knocking, we didn’t let it bastardize the town. Not yet, at least.
Now, consider our entry corridors. We saved the White Barn and the McPolin farm. We saved Bonanza Flats. That wasn’t fear or NIMBYism — it was stewardship. And now there’s the final corridor entryway to protect.
Watch the meeting. Read the COSAC minutes (the Aug. 25, 2015, one is pivotal). Then ask yourself: Is spending a million bucks to study how to carve a mile-long road through open space to a mutated housing project really the smartest use of public cash — or just the fastest way to spend it?
I’ll take one Jeremy Rubell over three cue card readers any day. If you prefer vision over velocity — and leaders who ask real questions — join me in voting Jeremy Rubell for City Council.
John Greenfield
Park City