The Art of Not Looking Away
Witnessing the Desert Destruction as Greenlink West Transmission Project Breaks Ground
Amargosa Valley, NV - I’m normally a very positive person, but lately I’ve wanted to jump through a time portal and choose a past era to escape back to, like in the old Star Trek episode. Back to a time before bulldozers and politicians.
This afternoon we checked out the Greenlink West Transmission Project construction in Amargosa Valley, Nevada, near Big Dune. The 100-acre substation was now fenced off, heavy machinery in place, water trucks in a row, and acres of new roads driven upon and desert shrubs grubbed out. This was depressing because just a few weeks ago this was a highly intact, unfragmented Mojave Desert landscape—flat yes—but full of biodiversity. Desert tortoises, kit foxes, and burrowing owls live here, as well as endemic scorpions and the unique Atomic tarantula.
The delicate desert pebble surface was broken in large areas, revealing the poof-dust underneath to blow in the winds. You could see the trails of numerous kangaroo rats hopping about on the new machinery marks as the hopping rodents collected the seeds from past wildflower blooms.
We came here to witness the destruction of this quiet desert valley just east of Death Valley National Park and south of Beatty. We spent years opposing the high-voltage line that will stretch from Las Vegas natural gas power plants to Reno data centers and Tesla giga-factories. We commented to the Bureau of Land Management, attended public meetings, got the news out.
But most environmentalists looked away.
(Many actually supported it.)
Maybe it was the brilliant messaging by the proponent NV Energy, an investor-owned utility and natural gas company, placing the word “green” into the name of this electrical monster that will stretch hundreds of miles across the remote Nevada Outback. The utility has been pushing to build this for years. It was formerly called DesertLink. They will make a gigantic profit by recouping construction costs from ratepayers. Billionaire investor Warren Buffett and his company Berkshire Hathaway bought NV Energy in 2013. They saw the potential for energy expansion and return on investment.

Far from the urban centers where such money deals are made, the wild desert is thriving out here. Young bursage bushes could be seen growing in groups around older plants. Harvester ants collected fallen seeds to take underground.
These are public lands, popular with recreationists. The sprawling substation is careful to avoid the few roads here. Locals also tried to fight the giant transmission line, but many residents and town councils looked away.
“It’s a done deal,” we heard a lot. I thought, well, if you look away it definitely becomes a done deal…
We tried to interest our senator and Congressional representatives in the plight of this land, but they looked away.
We also talked to environmental attorneys, but they too looked away.
Defending the desert is a tough job. But we refuse to look away, and will document the construction of this transmission project so that more people understand what is lost when society chooses energy-hungry artificial intelligence over natural wonders. We were careful to stay on public lands and not walk on the recently-approved Right-of-Way.

I’m a naturalist and biologist by training. I’d rather be out identifying plants, birding with binocs, using field guides to decipher animal tracks, photographing lizards. But I have come to learn more than I care to know about heavy machinery, construction methods, and the impacts of building things out on top of ecosystems. Documenting the before and after of such development is important.
I have trained myself to not look away.







When I see large energy projects, I often think of Schumacher’s little 70s book, “Small Is Beautiful”. I built a remote mountain cabin back then. Passive solar, microhydro, no phone, skiing in and out to work. It was a marvelous time of almost complete independence, low impact. You just don’t see this today. All big giant projects that benefit the shareholder price. Pretty sad. But I still have the cabin.
Heartbreaking. Thanks so much for your work.