Navajo and Hopi Nations Remain Locked in an Old Energy Dance with Peabody Energy - 2013

 

Navajo and Hopi Nations Remain Locked in an Old Energy Dance with Peabody Energy

In their homes, the Navajo and Hopi often burn coal for heat, which leads to a prevalence of respiratory illness. With coal at an average price of $90/ton, it would take $875 worth of wood to obtain the same amount of heat. With electrical transmission lines absent over much of the reservation, electrical heating is not an option. Even if available, electricity would cost far more than coal, wood or sparsely available propane.

The artist Jetsonorama lives in Inscription House, in northeastern Arizona. There he is the only permanent physician at the Indian Health Service's Inscription House Health Center. Although not a Native American, his wheat-paste photo murals periodically appear on crumbling or abandoned walls throughout the Navajo Reservation. Several years ago, at the ruin of the Cow Springs Trading Post, multiple copies of the artist’s work appeared.

A memorable series of Jetsonorama’s posters featured a beautiful Navajo baby. Shown with a large lump of coal looming over its head, the Navajo baby represents Jetsonorama's message that energy from coal contributes to climate change. At the time, he called it, "a metaphorical black cloud over the head of future generations, if we keep burning fossil fuels."

As part of the agreement between Peabody Energy and the Navajo Nation, the Black Mesa Complex is obligated to provide free coal to any local Native American family. In the fall and winter, when residents seek coal for their stoves, trucks and trailers often clog the road up to Black Mesa. Fully twenty-five percent of residential coal stoves on the Navajo Reservation began life burning something other than coal. Free coal or not, unacceptable levels of smoke and ash often enter the living areas of coal-heated homes.

With its three 775 ft. tall flue gas stacks sending coal smoke into the upper atmosphere, local residents may not notice emissions emanating from Navajo Generating Station (NGS). The heat island effect created by NGS keeps a near-permanent updraft operating in the immediate area. Depending on the prevailing winds, however, NGS coal smoke and its nitrous oxide haze may settle near or far, anywhere in Four Corner Region. In summer, coal smoke from NGS and other Arizona coal-fired plants affects cities as far away as Durango, Colorado.

The burning of coal near ground-level is more detrimental to the health of local residents than the NGS stack emissions. Burning slowly, but continuously over the winter months, each residential coal stove is a constant source of air and water pollution. It takes relatively few inefficient coal stoves to affect an entire community. In winter, when the air is often cold and still, residential coal smoke pools near its source. Thus, residents of places like Cow Springs, which sits in a depression midway between Black Mesa and NGS, may experience both residential and NGS coal smoke.

I have a proposal for Peabody Energy and its partners, the Navajo Tribal Energy Authority (NTUA), NGS and the Salt River Project (SRP), which owns the Central Arizona Project (CAP). Instead of removing all outward signs of Peabody Energy’s existence from the Navajo Reservation, the coal mining company and its partners should provide relief to the Navajo who need and deserve it most.

At a minimum, the utility consortium should provide pollution controls for any residential coal-burning stove from Kayenta to LeChee. If no such emission-controlled stoves are available, the consortium should provide propane-heating systems to all current coal-burning families. Although they deny it, Peabody Energy has a record of misuse and abuse of the Navajo Nation and its resources. To make up for their excesses, providing subsidized, clean heat and electricity to several thousand Navajo families is the least that they can do.

When writing about coal, water and the Southwest, it is easy to become morose and believe nothing in our fossil-fueled political environment will ever change. However, there is some good news. According to a recent Los Angeles Times article, college students from all over the U.S. are raising their consciousness regarding the effects of fossil fuels. In one college or university after another, groups and individuals now step forward to assert their power. Students who have never seen a coal plant or choked on coal smoke realize that their actions can make a difference to all who breathe.

Student campaigns such as “Fossil Free UC” have made their mark on policy. Recently, the fundraising foundation for San Francisco State University committed to selling stocks and bonds of companies with significant coal and tar sands holdings. If all three hundred colleges and universities targeted by the “fossil free” advocates join in, the true cost of coal mining and coal burning would become obvious. As our collective investment in Old Energy wanes, that capital can migrate to development and construction of new energy alternatives.

The Navajo and Hopi reservations exist within a desert region. Why not use home-based solar on the reservation to decrease dependency on coal fire? If every Navajo home were to feed power back into the electrical grid, "reverse carbon credits" could allow cleaner propane heating to replace residential coal stoves. The result would be a construction boom unlike any ever seen in the Four Corners Region.

No worker ever contracted black lung disease while installing solar panels or a propane heating system. With excess energy flowing back into the grid, NGS could power-down to a lower level. As a result, we could save Navajo and Hopi land, water and air resources for the use of future generations.

This is Chapter 4 of a four-part series regarding coal and water in the Southwest. To return to Chapter 1, please click HERE.

Email James McGillis

By James McGillis at 12:56 PM | Environment | Comments (0) | Link

A Giant Navajo/Hopi Sipapu Awaits Its Time at the Base of Glen Canyon Dam - 2013

 

A Giant Navajo/Hopi Sipapu Awaits Its Time at the Base of Glen Canyon Dam

Disappearance and Reemergence:

The historical and scientific consensus is that the last pre-Puebloan Indians (Anasazi) migrated away from the Four Corners around 1300 CE. Later, they “reemerged” as the Hopi, Zuni and other Pueblo tribes. The Hopi Creation Myth centers on the “sipapu”, a hole in the earth from which all of creation arose. Every ancient ceremonial kiva in the Four Corners includes a symbolic sipapu in its floor.

The great kivas provided communal warmth and shelter to the pre-Puebloan. Since an earthquake could collapse their roof beams, kivas also carried with them the risk of sudden death. After a swarm of catastrophic earthquakes around 1250 CE, the pre-Puebloan survivors reemerged from the metaphorical sipapu of their collapsed kivas, only then to leave the land that had long sustained them.

In order to escape the ongoing desertification of their homelands on the Colorado Plateau, many of the lost tribes traveled downriver from the confluence of the Green and Colorado Rivers. To this day, many of caches of their food and tools remain hidden in alcoves high among those canyons. As the climate dried, timber became scarce, crops failed and game animals retreated to well-watered places like Glen Canyon. Using the river as a pathway, they headed south toward new lands and new lives.

In the wilds of Glen Canyon, they found sustenance for their long trek. Nuts, berries and small game were abundant along the shoreline. Those who understood the weather cycle travelled south in summer or fall, often wintering-over in the lower, warmer reaches of the canyon. Still, the canyon was no place to dally. With the warmth of spring would come annual flooding along the Colorado River.

If the pre-Puebloan episode of climate change was similar to our own, enormous spring floods may have swept the canyon. From wall to wall, the flood would roar, erasing sandbars and banks that had so recently provided shelter for their journey. If the people upstream waited too long, their own supplies of food might be exhausted. If they traveled the river too soon, they risked an unexpected cleansing in the mighty flood.

In its February 1961 issue, Arizona Highways Magazine devoted the inside cover to a photograph of Glen Canyon Dam, then in its early stages of construction. Many of us grew up thinking that the 710 ft. (220 m) high arch of Glen Canyon Dam had always been there. Seeing photos of dam construction in the early 1960s, reminds us how recently the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation placed a plug of concrete and steel into that enormous gap.

It was then, still several years before the filling of Lake Powell, that Edward Abbey and a few brave or foolhardy souls rafted down the Colorado River. Less than one hundred years after its discovery by the expedition of Major John Wesley Powell, Abbey and his inveterate river runners were among the last humans to see Glen Canyon as it always was. In 1869, Powell wrote, “...we have a curious ensemble of wonderful features - carved walls, royal arches, glens, alcove gulches, mounds, and monuments. From which of these features shall we select a name? We decide to call it Glen Canyon.” For his part, Edward Abbey wrote almost one hundred years later, “In fact I saw only a part of (Glen Canyon) but enough to realize that here was an Eden, a portion of the earth’s original paradise.”

Edward Abbey and many others were incensed that the U.S. Congress funded the building of Glen Canyon Dam. In his 1975 novel, The Monkey Wrench Gang, Abbey waxed rhapsodic on the possibility of toppling the dam, thus releasing the waters that covered all traces of Abbey’s “Eden in the Desert”. In 1981, Abbey and the group known as Earth First converged on the dam. While Abbey spoke to a small group gathered nearby, members of Earth First unfurled a banner designed to look like a huge crack on the face of Glen Canyon Dam. Throughout the protest, there was no violence, sabotage or destruction of property. The symbolic cracking of the dam, it seemed, was protest enough.

Even those who accept the human causes of climate change tend to see it as a recent phenomenon. Outsized events, such as Hurricanes Katrina and Rita in 2005 or Superstorm Sandy in 2011 are not enough to convince many that humans play a role in our own meteorological environment. In the spring of 1983, two years after the symbolic cracking of the dam, Edward Abbey and his fellow travelers almost saw their wish come true. Heavy winter snows across the Colorado Plateau, followed by drenching rains and unseasonably warm temperatures brought a flood of unexpected proportions into Lake Powell.

The Bureau of Reclamation was unprepared for the onslaught of water. By July of 1983, Lake Powell reached its highest recorded elevation. In order to increase the carrying capacity of the lake, engineers hastily erected plywood barricades atop the dam. A month earlier, dam operators had opened the left diversion tunnel, sending 10,000 cubic feet per second (280 m3/s), just 7.2% of capacity, down the tunnel into the river below. Meanwhile over 120,000 cubic feet per second (3,400 m3/s) was pouring into the upper reaches of the reservoir.

In this lopsided scenario, something had to give. For a few weeks, it appeared that erosion in the spillway tunnels might cause catastrophic failure of the system. Cavitation-caused erosion was backtracking from the tunnel outlets. If erosion had loosened the enormous concrete plugs that held back lake water from the diversion tunnels (used during initial construction), the dam could have failed. Although the dam rumbled ominously while the spillways were in operation, luck alone saved the day. Just as options were running out, inflow from the upper Colorado River began to slow, allowing the reservoir to subside. Perhaps warm weather caused sufficient evaporation from the lake to save the dam from destruction.

While the “outlet works” received emergency repairs, the ancient power of the river had reemerged from beneath placid Lake Powell. In deference to the facts of global warming, dam operators never allowed Lake Powell to approach full capacity (3708 ft. elevation) again. Since 1983, they have kept lake levels low enough (3640 ft. max. elevation) to capture a flood at least that large. To this day, the “bathtub ring of 1983” stands as a high water mark on the walls of Glen Canyon. Had the public known that Glen Canyon Dam would never live up to its original design criteria, would the dam have received initial approval?

Hoover Dam, built into hard granite at the Black Canyon of the Colorado River many miles downstream will probably outlast Glen Canyon Dam by centuries. Wedged as it is into the soft sandstone walls of Lower Glen Canyon, the Glen Canyon Dam may have received irreparable damage during the vibrational drubbing it took in 1983. Those who controlled the dam during the harrowing days of summer 1983 are retired now, or dead. Despite several engineering surveys intended to allay public fears about permanent damage, we must wait for time to tell.

In what we now call the Four Corner States, it is likely that a swarm of earthquakes marked the end of the pre-Puebloan era. With their kivas in ruins, the ancients could not live through the winter without communal shelter and warmth. With the last of their timber beams burned for warmth, they soon departed for warmer climes. Just as likely, it will be a series of earthquakes near Page, Arizona that will release the plugs from the diversion tunnels beneath Glen Canyon Dam. When one of those plugs pops into the Colorado River like a cork from a Champagne bottle, the scouring effects of the water will bring Glen Canyon, the “Eden in the Desert” back to the surface of the Earth, where it belongs.

Today the Navajo Nation borders Lake Powell and the Colorado River along its northern and western reaches. Coal from Black Mesa, to the north fuels the Navajo Generating Station, which is visible from Lake Powell. Several centuries after disappearance of the pre-Puebloan culture, Indians from current day Western Canada repopulated the Colorado Plateau. Centuries later, those Dine' or Naabeeho people became known as the Navajo. In his 1975 book, “My Heart Soars”, Chief Dan George of the Tsleil-Waututh Nation, North Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada said this:

“Of all the teachings we receive,
this one is the most important:
Nothing belongs to you
of what there is,
of what you take,
you must share.”

In his lament for the hunting and gathering days of his youth, Chief Dan George summed up all that had been lost:

“No longer
can I give you a handful of berries as a gift,
No longer
are the roots I dig used as medicine,
No longer
Can I sing a song to please the salmon,
No longer
does the pipe I smoke make others sit with me in friendship.
No longer”

As we focus on the 1961 image of Glen Canyon, without the dam, perhaps we can decommission it before it blows its concrete plugs. Otherwise, it behooves us to prepare now for the opening of a grand sipapu there, in Glen Canyon, at a future date uncertain.

Email James McGillis

 

By James McGillis at 05:59 PM | Environment | Comments (0) | Link

Holbrook Basin, Arizona Water Creation Myth - 2011

 

 

Holbrook Basin, Arizona

Water Creation Myth 

 

A broad range of historical studies indicate that the aquifers of Northeastern Arizona may be over-subscribed. Still other studies predict long-term, persistent drought throughout the area. Sparse winter rains and the thunderstorms of summer are the only replenishment sources for aquifers in the Little Colorado River Basin. Most of the available moisture will either evaporate or runoff into the Colorado River. Long-term drought in the Four Corners states places stress on ecosystems throughout the High Southwest.

 

An easy way to gauge dryness in a desert environment is the frequency and intensity of regional dust storms. By that standard, the Four Corners states are now drier than at any time since the Great Disappearance, around 1300 CE. Even so, we are now on a fast-track to pump large amounts of water from these irreplaceable sources. A recent news report suggests that Passport Potash, Inc. plans an in-situ recovery (ISR), hydraulic-injection mine on their Twin Buttes Ranch property near Holbrook, Arizona. In March 2011, a Passport Potash mining engineer told the press that Passport Potash, Inc. hopes to pump up to 2000 gallons per minute from wells within the Holbrook Basin aquifer.

 

At first, 2000 gallons per minute does not sound like a large amount of water. However, pumping at that rate for one full year would produce over one billion gallons of water. One billion gallons equals over 3000 acre feet of water. If each three-person household used one quarter of an acre foot per year, Passport Potash water requirements would be equivalent to over 38,000 domestic water users. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, Navajo County, of which the City of Holbrook is the county seat, had a 2016 population of 110,026. Thus, if Passport Potash reaches full production, it alone will pump water equal to one third of all domestic water use within Navajo County.

 

Through their creation myth, the Hopi people tell us that all water is both sacred and connected. In what could be a lapse of ancestral memory, the Hopi new lands trust appears to have granted eighteen sections of their Holbrook Basin water rights to Passport Potash. If the southern aquifers of the Holbrook Basin are pumped dry, it will be only a matter of time before the drought worsens in both Navajo and Hopi reservations. The elders within the Hopi new lands trust might want to check their pre ancestral memories regarding drought and its consequences. For decades, scientists have known that around 1300 CE, drought brought an end to Pre-Puebloan cultures within the Colorado River Basin. The Hopi creation myth was founded in fact, not fantasy. If they have the fortitude to retain, rather than to sell their hard-won water rights, the Hopi people may yet avoid watching their ancient and venerable culture dry up and blow away.

 

Potential potash producers now lure the Hopi, Navajo, Zuni and other tribes with prospects of employment. Touting well-paying jobs and generations of employment for local citizens, they predict that ISR mines will still produce potash and jobs a century from now. One hundred years of operations at the proposed Holbrook Basin mines would require 100,000,000,000 gallons of water. Does anyone seriously believe that the Holbrook Basin aquifers hold one hundred billion gallons of water, free for the taking?

 

I wonder what has happened to the Arizona State and federal agencies who are stakeholders in the Little Colorado River Basin. Other than the mining authorities, I could find no published position statement on behalf of any agency. Do the Department of Interior, the Forest Service, the Bureau of Land Management, Bureau of Indian Affairs and the U.S. Geological Survey have no opinion at all regarding this issue? Unless someone or some agency steps in and demands a region-wide approach to water use planning, continued depletion of the Little Colorado River aquifers is a near certainty.

Author's Note: Article updated 9/2/2017

 

Read Chapter One – The Little Colorado River Basin

Read Chapter Two – Holbrook, Arizona Basin - Potash

Read Chapter Four - Colorado River Watershed At Risk

Read Comment - Holbrook Basin Potash, Sinkholes and 'Nutjob Math'

Email James McGillis

 

By James McGillis at 12:02 AM | Environment | Comments (0) | Link

Holbrook Basin, Arizona The Environmental Cost of Mineral Exploitation - 2011

 

 

Holbrook Basin, Arizona

The Environmental Cost of Mineral Exploitation

   

Located south of the Navajo and Hopi reservations in Arizona, the Holbrook Basin is wholly contained within the larger Little Colorado River Watershed. The heart of the Holbrook Basin rests in a triangle of land created by the confluence of the Little Colorado River and its main tributary, the Rio Puerco. On its eastern flank, the Holbrook Basin overlaps the fragile environment of Petrified Forest National Park. Over the years, the Holbrook Basin has been a hotbed of mineral exploration, if not major exploitation. Oil, natural gas and uranium ore are but a few of the resources prospected or extracted from the Holbrook Basin.

 

The City of Holbrook is the County Seat for Navajo County, Arizona. Interstate I-40, Historic Route 66 and the Burlington Northern Santa Fe Railroad (BNSF) all pass through Holbrook. In addition, Holbrook hosts the only golf course along I-40 between Gallup, New Mexico and Flagstaff, Arizona. Water from the adjacent Little Colorado River makes that amenity possible.

 

Upstream and to the east of Holbrook, the confluence of the Rio Puerco and the Little Colorado River creates a larger, seasonal flow. Radiochemical contamination is present in the alluvial aquifer along the Puerco River. The elevated levels of gross alpha and gross beta are caused by the movement of uranium-, radium-, and thorium-rich sediments from the 1979 Church Rock uranium mine tailing pond spill in New Mexico (Webb and others, 1988) and discharges of mine dewatering effluent, which ceased in 1986 (U.S. Geological Survey, 1991b).

 

Movement of existing radionuclides is due to discharges from the sewage-treatment plant in Gallup, New Mexico (U.S. Geological Survey, 1991b). This area is considered one of the principal water-quality problem areas in the state (Arizona Department of Environmental Quality, 1990). After learning late about prior nuclear contamination along the Rio Puerco, the Navajo Nation outlawed uranium mining on its reservation in 2005. In 2010, despite Navajo objections, Uranium Resources, Inc. (URI) received approval to restart uranium mining within the contamination zone created by the 1979 spill.

 

Strathmore Minerals Corp. (purchased by Energy Fuels Corp. in 2013) is also listed as controlling 640 acres adjacent to the URI site. The ninety-four million gallon Church Rock Spill was the largest release of low-level nuclear radiation in U.S. history. Despite that, in-situ recovery (ISR) mines are now being planned for the area. With the use of hydraulic injection and subsequent pumping, both groundwater depletion and produced water are of concern to the Navajo Nation. Subsequent to the 1979 spill, the Navajo were not told that surface flow along the Rio Puerco was caused largely by uranium mine dewatering. Pre-ancestral memories run deep. To this day, cattle and domestic animals rely on the alluvial aquifer of the Rio Puerco to quench their thirst.

 

According to mining industry sources, the Holbrook Basin is located in an area with excellent infrastructure and is known to contain a 600 square mile potash bed in its Permian Supai Formation (Arizona Geological Survey Open File Report 08-07). The potash bed was drilled and delineated in the 1960s and 1970s by Duvall Corporation and Arkla Exploration. Due to low potash prices in the 1970's the Holbrook Basin potash bed saw no development since its discovery.

 

A recent AZJournal article quotes the Arizona Oil and Gas Conservation Commission (AZOGCC) as saying, "There are now 38 core holes permitted in the Holbrook Basin. While Passport Potash holds the permits to 19 of those holes, HNZ Potash, also known as HNZ Holding, LLC, a joint venture of Hunt Oil and NZ Legacy Resources, holds the other 19 permits. Efforts to contact the company have gone without response, but according to its now defunct website, HNZ Potash is the largest private owner of the Holbrook Basin deposit with a reported land position of 74,000 acres." The former HNZ website was so secretive that it required the visitor to defeat a log-in request before accessing their Home Page. Drilling applications filed with the state indicate that HNZ now controls the old Arkla Exploration properties, first explored over fifty years ago.

 

In March 2011, Ringbolt Ventures entered into agreement with Passport Potash, Inc. for the exploration and development of Ringbolt Holbrook Basin potash property. Ringbolt Ventures (and now Passport Potash) has been granted fifteen State mineral exploration permits in the Holbrook Basin. On their website, they say, "If compared to the Saskatchewan, Canada mines that operate at far greater depths, the relatively shallow depths of these occurrences should lend its self towards a much larger recovery of the potash ore”. At the time of this writing, Passport was continuing negotiations with the Karlsson Group Inc. on the terms of a Definitive Cooperative Agreement (the "DCA") in which Passport and Karlsson outline plans to jointly develop their potash resources. By combining holdings, Passport and Karlsson control over 120 sections of state and private lands which total nearly 80,000 acres.

 

Under the terms of the Navajo-Hopi Land Dispute Settlement Act of 1996, the Hopi Tribe purchased up to 500,000 acres of former Arizona state lands, mostly within the Holbrook Basin. Recently, Ringbolt/Passport/Karlsson sought and obtained agreement from the Hopi new lands trust to conduct mining operations on some or all of their Holbrook Basin properties. Through that agreement, Passport Potash will have access to some or all Hopi water rights in the Holbrook Basin.

 

On the Passport Potash website, they once displayed an image of conventional (shaft mining) and a diagram of in-situ recovery (solution) mining. There they say, “Potash deposits in the Holbrook Basin are considered shallow by industry standards, with deposits ranging at depths of between 800 and 1300 ft., which is a major advantage for Passport.” Nowhere on the website do they indicate a preference for one mining technique over the other.

 

To what extent Passport Potash will pump ground water from the aquifer adjacent the Little Colorado River remains to be seen. In discussing their recent exploratory drilling program, Passport said, “This hole represents the first exploration for potash within the boundaries of the Twin Buttes Ranch (on their Holbrook Basin property) in more than forty-five years. Potash was intercepted in this hole and has been confirmed by both visual inspection and by downhole geophysical logging”.

Further, they said, “Upon completion of drilling and logging, the hole has been converted into a producing water well. Water is present in the well and will be used in the ongoing drill program at a considerable cost saving to the company. The company has also set up a field office at the well site and this area will now serve as a base of operations from this point forward.” Although water wells are necessary to explore the location and extent of potash reserves, the public is left to believe that Passport Potash might use conventional shaft mining for their Holbrook Basin project. Was their “producing well” intended only for exploration, or did it foreshadow full-scale hydraulic injection mining throughout the basin? If not, why does the current Arizona Geological Survey map show forty-five wells permitted in the Holbrook Basin by the state since 2009?

 

With her Pulitzer Prize-worthy reporting, Linda Kor was first to break the story that Passport Potash plans an in-situ recovery (ISR) mine on their Holbrook Holdings. In a March 18, 2011 AZJournal article, Kor interviewed Passport Potash mine engineer Allen Wells. Wells was quick to point out that while other types of mining use cyanide or acids to flush out minerals, in mining potash, the only solution that will be used is salt and water. When asked where the water would come from for the project, Wells referred to the aquifer that runs beneath the earth’s surface. “With the current drilling that we’re doing the aquifer is pumping 200 gallons per minute. We would be pumping 2,000 gallons per minute to provide the solution for the mine,” he stated.

 

Prior to the granting of a full mining permit, the public has a right to know, once and for all, if Passport Potash plans to operate a conventional mine or a solution mine in the Holbrook Basin. If Passport Potash plans a conventional mine, then I say, “Bravo”. A conventional mine at Twin Buttes Ranch should not place significant additional burden on the water table of an already overstressed regional aquifer. Their stated intention to pump up to 2,000 gallons of water per minute in support of an in-situ potash mine does not bode well for the indigenous cultures of the Little Colorado River Basin. Only by retaining a steady state in the regional aquifers can the Navajo and the Hopi avoid seeing their wells go dry, thus ending over 4200 years of continuous cultivation on their sacred tribal lands.

 

Author's Note: Comment by Carla Padilla on July 30, 2016 12:25 PM.
My great grandfather was Juan Padilla. He was the first to settle by the confluence of the Lift Colorado River & the Rio Puerco. My father told me he had Spanish land grants & he settled this area because there was plenty of water and the grass was as tall as his chest. It is so very sad to see that this precious commodity has now been contaminated by human negligence.

  

Read Chapter One – The Little Colorado River Basin

Read Chapter Three - Holbrook Basin Water Crisis

Read Chapter Four - Colorado River Watershed At Risk

 

Email James McGillis

 

 

By James McGillis at 03:48 PM | Environment | Comments (1) | Link