Issue link: http://read.uberflip.com/i/34482
n outDooRs | JUST A LiTTLE HEAT It’s not the heat... It’s the lack of humidity! BY gRegg losinsKi They say that water is the lifeblood of the West. When the western United States was first being populated by settlers, famed explorer John Wesley Powell not only braved rivers that not even the native people dared to navigate, but he mapped the water sheds that created these rivers of life. Then he really took his life into his own hands by going before Congress to say how he thought settlement of the West should be arranged based on available water. Of course, no one listened to Powell. Humans build where humans want and the site specifics be damned, or at least the rivers be dammed. Powell wasn’t a mystic, but he knew It was all too easy to focus on just the water flowing on the surface. He metaphorically dug a little deeper to envision how the subterranean aquifers functioned, and he knew that when it came to considering the moisture in the air all around us, everyone thought he was just plain crazy. But Powell knew that water needed to be considered in all its physical states, not just the snow packs of the moun- tains and the coursing rivers, but the invis- ible vapors all around us. One of the really great things I love about living in Idaho Falls is the lack of humidity. Not only do we as humans ben- efit from a comfort standpoint, but we as a state benefit it from it commercially. Our old license plates said it all, “Famous Potatoes.” What does humidity have to do with keeping us comfortable, both physi- cally and economically? The lack of mois- ture in the air means that we live in “real” climate time. No moisture in the air means that whatever then sun throws at us is what we have for heat. No sun, no heat. The moisture in the air is what holds the heat and makes us feel hot and muggy or cold and damp. This comfort doesn’t come without the cost of occasional nose bleeds and cracked lips, but better those than continually stewing in our own juices. Whenever I go somewhere with higher humidity, I feel like I am wading through sludge. I can feel the moisture clinging to me, holding all types of offending odors and causing my hair to go spastic. When I get back home to Idaho Falls everything seems fresh and clean. Our spuds also appreciate the arid cli- mate. During the day they grow like crazy in our bright sunlight. When night comes the temperatures drop like a rock because there is no moisture in the air to hold the heat. This huge temperature shift causes the starches to store up big time in the tasty tubers, creating our famous potatoes. Although I’m not a spud farmer, I bet that our arid climate also makes storage of spuds in cellars a heck of a lot cheaper and easier than places with 90 percent relative humidity. You hear horror stories in the news about homes elsewhere in the country condemned because of mold, and while I know we are not totally immune, it’s harder here to get a really good mold patch growing. I used to live in North Carolina in a place where the sun only hit the ground at noon because of steep mountain valleys. All the rain and ver- dant forests guaranteed that the humidity always hovered near 100 percent. If you left a wet towel hanging against the wall in the morning, it would be host to a plethora of slime molds by dinner! During college in Wisconsin I lived in a house that was so humid that we actually had mushrooms growing from the floor in the bathroom. While the cleanliness of my college abode might have been a factor, the humidity is what allowed the spores to grow so splendidly. While there might not be all that much moisture in the air here, there are many who want to squeeze out every last drop, or more precisely precipitate out every drop possible. Surrounding counties have been experimenting with cloud seeding to increase rainfall. I won’t wade into the debate over whether this works or not, but I would posit one notion. Any mois- ture coaxed from the atmosphere in one place, doesn’t get a chance to go where it was originally intended to go. Our planet is a closed system, a darn big system, but limited nonetheless. As long as there is still water to grow our spuds, they can steal all the humidity they want; I promise I won’t complain. “Whenever i go somewhere with higher humidity, i feel like i am wading through sludge. i can feel the moisture clinging to me, holding all types of offending odors and causing my hair to go spastic. When i get back home to idaho Falls everything seems fresh and clean.” IF 106 idaho falls magazine JULY/AUGUST 2011