Plowing air

BLAIRSBURG, Iowa – For centuries, the winds have howled across this prairie, generally from west to east. Sometimes they're driven by tornadic twisters; more often, they're a predictable current – occasionally gusty, usually steady.

Pioneers cursed the blowing as they headed west. It meant dust in the eyes, stiff resistance for their mules and oxen, and raw, aching windburn at the end of the day. 

Today, though, the descendants of those settlers have embraced the winds. More than that, they’re cashing in.

By plowing air.

Drive north through Iowa to Minneapolis and the evidence is overwhelming.  On either side of Interstate 35 are wind farms smack in the middle of one of the nation’s windiest corridors.

Agrarian purists bristle at the sight.  Views of the horizon are now subdivided by sky-high vertical posts equipped with giant, three-bladed fans. They move clockwise, at wind’s whim.  The blades are not in lock-step … so each fan seems to dance and move independent of the others.  It’s poetry in motion.  Truly.

It’s too easy to contrast these wind farms with the oil gusher bubbling up from the Gulf.  It’s apples and oranges, really.  The former is clean, quiet and renewable.  The latter is dirty, dangerous and finite.

Unfortunately, the latter will be with us for many years as we transition to energy alternatives.  The quicker we can transition the better, is my view.

But next time you’re near a wind farm, stop on by.  It’s all pretty amazing.  And it’s the future.

Like crop rows, the turbines sit side by side, in a straight line.  Generally there are 10 to a row, but that may grow or shrink depending on the circumstance – the land owned by the farmer, for example.

To get a sense of scale, there’s a six-foot-tall manhole built into the bottom of each turbine tower.  Based on a quick look, I’m guessing the turbines are about 150 feet tall … or 15 stories.

The enormity of these towers is breathtaking.   The spinning blades shout a “whoosh, whoosh, whoosh” when observed within 50 yards or less. They remind me of the AT-AT Walker in Star Wars … tall, metal-encased, ready to deal with outside forces.

The manhole itself is locked … though with a simple padlock.  Inside, I imagine there’s a ladder stretching up to the top, where the brains of the turbine reside.

Atop the tower is a horizontal pod; there the three blades connect.  And atop the pod is weather instrumentation for measuring wind direction and velocity. Oh, and there’s a red beacon light, I suppose in case airplanes get too close.  

The turbines seem to have a mind of their own.  We’re watching this row, and the closest turbine – No. 158 – seems to be pointed directly south while its nine brothers point more southwest. 

Then, interestingly, No. 159 begins to adjust itself to point more south.  And then, shortly, follows No. 160.

I suspect if we’d hung around, the whole line of 10 would eventually point due south.

You see, the computers inside these pods sniff the wind’s direction and change as the wind changes.  To maximize energy generation.

Meantime, the farmer who’s allowed this wind farm atop his field seems to have quickly adapted to the intrusion.  His rows of corn have been planted within feet of the massive turbine tower.  This summer, tall corn will obscure the base of No. 158.

In short, farming as we know it is existing side by side with cutting-edge energy creation.

The winds that long ago cursed travelers heading west are now being cultivated by those who stayed.

More power to them. 

For more photos, check this out!