My wife often makes fun of me for being fat. She is being ironic, as I struggle to maintain a weight above that of a large watermelon, but she enjoys gently poking fun at me, and prefers to do it in a way that is very hard to take too seriously (I am very sensitive).
This personal anecdote is all a segue to the fact that I weigh a little shy of 140 pounds on average. 137 up to 144 depending on my meals. It’s genetic, my father is also a wiry but very skinny man. Anyway, this isn’t actually a post about obesity or healthy weight. I have lately become obsessed with the signs of Baltimore’s commitment to eliminate snow and ice from the road, and Smithsonian tells me that in the United States, 137 pounds of salt are spread on the road PER PERSON! That’s a me’s worth of salt for every person in the country.
It’s different this year in Maryland, of course, since we’ve been on the receiving end of our pal the Polar Vortex and a higher than average number of winter storms. The State Highway Administration has used around 280,000 tons (576,000,000 pounds) of road salt so far this year (which is about what is budgeted for the entire year, by the way, so drive carefully from now on), or about 100 pounds per person. And February is just beginning.
So a pillar of road salt that weighs as much as I do is an interesting concept, but doesn’t really address the confusion/disgust/horror/amazement that hits me every time I walk past a giant pile of salt that seems to have been dropped off the back of the salting truck in case of a very local, very intense blizzard (like maybe fifteen feet of snow, but in a two foot radius). I wasn’t really sure what I was so disturbed about — the run-off of salt water into the bay, the damage to the ecosystem from excessive salinity, the waste of resources evident in the inconsistent salt-spreading operation, the drain on city coffers for treating waste water, salty tap water. All of these vague and uninformed concerns together make observing these urban salt spills a disconcerting experience for me, and so I needed to learn more.
The short answer is that my reactions may be overblown. No one is going to die from salt exposure anytime soon. On the other hand, salt pollution is actually pretty serious in the broader public health context, if you consider environment, biological diversity, and watershed stability.
Researchers at the University of Minnesota determined that a majority of the salt applied to roads stay in the watershed where it is spread, and removal is difficult at best, in addition to being expensive. Fortunately in Baltimore a great deal of salty runoff goes toward the bay, where the salinity will do less harm than in a fresh water environment. Fish populations and plant life in local streams that experience significant road salt runoff are at risk, however, as some freshwater fish cannot tolerate salinity above 1000 mg/liter, 1/20th that of highway runoff.
Clearly, the Jones Falls and other streams in Baltimore City are no longer supporting thriving fish populations, but the overall goals of city planners claim to take stream and tributary health into consideration in the greening and cleaning goals centered on the inner harbor.
Salt will continue to be used, though, especially in winters like this one, for two compelling reasons:
- It’s cheap, around $35 a ton. That’s a lot of Adam salty doppelgangers for about the price of three six packs of Resurrection Ale.
- It works really well. At least down to a certain temperature. Salt lowers the freezing point of water, but it doesn’t prevent it from freezing altogether, as many of us have seen firsthand with the recent spell of temperatures in the single digits
Despite these advantages, road salt has some significant hazards to health and safety that should cause highway officials to consider moderation rather than excess. In addition to the dangers to fish and plants mentioned above, excess salt buildup (essentially giant salt-licks) on the side of roads can attract deer, heightening the possibility of vehicle/deer accidents causing injury or death to deer and driver alike.
So if roads must continue to be treated in order for driving to be (relatively) safe in B’more, then perhaps alternatives should be investigated. Polk County Wisconsin uses a mixture of traditional road salt and cheese brine. Other localities have had success with other mixtures of salt and locally available ingredients such as beet juice and sugar cane molasses. Baltimore could take advantage of one of many industry cast-offs that could be re-purposed in the interest of public safety. If no other appropriate source could be found, there is always the water from the bay itself. At least runoff of Chesapeake water sprayed on the roads would not cause a net addition of salt to the harbor.
