Up from p 21 Desert Mountain Energy’s interest in his native Oklahoma to another company to focus all his attention on Arizona. After all, helium concentrations in the Holbrook Basin are as high as 10 percent. It only takes 0.6 percent for an operation to be profitable. One well, which can cost up to $1 million, churns up more than 24 million cubic feet of gas, mostly nitrogen, per day. In it is contained 720,000 cubic feet of carbon dioxide. If every single car in metro Phoenix drove three miles, less than 720,000 cubic feet of carbon dioxide would be produced. Instead of flaring the CO2 into the air, an environmentally polluting safety proce- dure to burn off excess hydrocarbons for hydrogen and natural gas wells, prospec- tors trap and sell the gas to be made into dry ice. As Jalbert puts it, “Even carbon dioxide has value.” Traditional helium extraction is a filthy process that researchers have described as “dirtier than coal.” Desert Mountain Energy’s proprietary drilling method uses air and water to produce “green helium,” the company claims. But Arizona’s dwindling water supply threatens even such a method during drought. The state lost 8 percent of its total water supply in January. “I get painted with a broad brush as some kind of a jerk,” Rohlfing admitted. “But I’ve worked hard to do things responsibly.” In 2019, a lawsuit was filed by the Center for Biological Diversity which halted Desert Mountain Energy’s plan to drill for helium after the company leased 3,000 acres of land near Arizona’s pictur- esque Petrified Forest National Park. Since 2004, Congress has added more than 50,000 acres to the national park. That was before anyone knew the treasure trove of helium hidden underneath the painted desert sand. “People should be rightfully skeptical and concerned,” Jalbert said. Conservationists foresee a helium boom in Arizona, too. Environmental advocates view helium extraction through the lens of natural gas and oil fracking. As such, they Desert Mountain Energy Corp. are trying to stop it and instead push for responsible climate change policies and renewable energy. But the situation is more nuanced than that, one scientist argued. “Helium is so much more complicated,” Jalbert said. “To construct an argument against helium is to create an argument against cell phones and MRIs.” Sandy Bahr, who heads up the Sierra Club’s Grand Canyon Chapter, is skeptical of Desert Mountain Energy’s methods. Resource depletion and drilling of any kind are concerns for the Sierra Club, an Oakland, California-based nonprofit that focuses on environmental justice. “There is a lot of greenwashing going on right now,” Bahr said. “I am concerned that this could be more of that.” Where Does the Helium Go? Whether or not the helium extracted from the Holbrook Basin stays in Arizona depends on who you ask. Desert Mountain Energy only employs five Arizona residents, according to the company. Dozens more workers are subcontracted from out of state. “There are not people in this state that do that kind of work,” Rohlfing said. That’s because historically, the national helium industry was corralled into a small region of mid-America that included parts of the Texas and Oklahoma panhandles and southwest Kansas. Over most of the past century, the Arizona’s Desert Mountain Energy looks to extract helium from deep underground. federal government has maintained unilat- eral control over America’s helium. The Federal Helium Reserve near Amarillo, Texas, was long home to 40 percent of the nation’s helium reserve. Helium from Arizona has almost always gone to this strategic site or to buyers authorized by the federal government, like the military, Jalbert said. That’s about to change. Congress passed the Helium Privatization Act in 1996 amid a surplus of the lighter-than-air element. The new law mandated the Federal Helium Reserve to close by September 30. The federal government is a customer of Desert Mountain Energy and buys some of the helium it produces. The rest is floated to consumers in Arizona. “My goal is to keep it all right here,” Rohlfing said. “I want to help the industry here in Arizona.” The Bureau of Land Management has just six more months to dispose of its left- over assets and shut down the Federal Helium Reserve. That could allow for Rohlfing’s vision of more helium remaining in Arizona. But the surplus that led to that shut- down is far in the rearview. In early 2018, the global helium market entered Helium Crisis 3.0, which stemmed from disruption in the Middle East. However, as demand dipped during the coronavirus pandemic, the industry saw a light at the end of the tunnel. Then, the military attacks by Russia against Ukraine happened. “Now we’re in a new helium crisis already,” Jalbert said. The war in Eastern Europe led to sanc- tions on Russia that have acutely affected the global and domestic helium markets. The U.S. buys 20 percent of its helium from its former Cold War foe. The world has entered Helium Crisis 4.0, some industry experts say. What’s Next? While scientists have proven the existence of more than a century’s worth of helium, Earth’s helium supply could run out in as few as 25 years. But if there’s a sudden incentive to go look for it, people might find a lot more, industry analysts say. “The question is willingness to drill, dollars, and cents,” Rohlfing said. “We haven’t hit peak oil. We definitely haven’t reached peak helium.” The future of the element is nebulous. For now, 10 percent of it fills party balloons and almost half is used to cool MRI machines to conduct vital, sometimes life- saving screenings. Although Arizona is looking to follow Virginia, Maryland, and Maine in tight- ening the laws around party balloons, activists argue the state legislature is doing little to address bigger solutions like trap- ping and recycling helium. There is an implied danger when the U.S. ties itself to industries that rely on incredibly finite natural resources, Jalbert said. “This is why we’re talking about mining asteroids and mining the ocean bed,” he said. “Eventually, we’re just not going to find any more.” Desert Mountain Energy and Rohlfing, who just turned 66 years old, are far from throwing in the towel. They’re preparing for a second gold rush in Arizona. “Everything we’re building is for the long term,” Rohlfing said. “I didn’t work on this for so long to watch it gone tomorrow.” 23 phoenixnewtimes.com | CONTENTS | FEEDBACK | OPINION | NEWS | FEATURE | NIGHT+DAY | CULTURE | FILM | CAFE | MUSIC | PHOENIX NEW TIMES MARCH 24TH– MARCH 30TH, 2022
