View from the top

Are you scared?

Won’t you be claustrophobic?

Why?

Those were some of the typical questions asked before I climbed to the top of a wind turbine this summer.

How was the view?

Was it difficult?

Are you glad you did it?

And those were some of the questions asked after the climb.

••••••••••

You climbed a wind turbine, you ask?

Yes. Yes, I did.

How did this all come about?

Well, it wasn’t my idea. Instead, it came from Rebecca Rivera, who was then a communications specialist for NextEra Energy Resources, which built Bluff Point Wind Energy Center in southern Jay County and northern Randolph County in 2017. I was speaking to her, via phone, and several employees of the wind farm, in person, for a different story about the typical workday for a wind technician.

During the conversation, she said she wanted to pitch me another story. Her idea — climb a wind turbine and tell readers about the experience first-hand.

I’ve never been a big fan of heights. I don’t particularly like being on the upper floors of a skyscraper and looking down. It’s disconcerting.

But, I asked myself, how many people ever get the chance to climb a wind turbine?

The scales tipped easily. Opportunity far outweighed fear.

And so it was that I found myself at the Bluff Point operations and maintenance center, located just west of U.S. 27 on county road 800 South, on an early August afternoon.

••••••••••

How was the climb?

Slow down. Safety first.

NextEra is serious about safety.

Representatives from the company had made this point in previous interviews for stories I had written during construction. But it’s not until I actually went through the process that I understood.

First, there was the “classroom” session. Working with Jason Schmiesing, the lifelong Jay County resident who became a wind tech for NextEra, we learned about the company, wind turbines and wind energy in general. (“We” are NextEra communications specialists Lisa Paul and Conlan Kennedy, who were also preparing to make their first climb, and me.)

Time to head out to a turbine, right?

Wrong.

Next is the safety equipment dry run. 

The main piece of safety equipment is a harness. Once it was strapped on, pretty much all of the fear went away. With this thing, I wasn’t going anywhere. It goes over the shoulders, around the chest and waist, and between the legs, and buckles in five different places. And that’s before mentioning the attachment that would fasten me to the safety line, the mechanism for the lift assist (more on this later) or the extra safety line that was there to secure me when I was resting on a platform.

Beyond the harness and its various attachments, requirements for the climb include gloves, glasses, a hard hat and steel-toed boots.

••••••••••

Once we had tried on the harness and learned how it worked, then it was time to take all of the safety equipment off and head to one of the turbines.

The one we would climb was along county road 700 South about a mile and a half east of U.S. 27.

Arriving there, we put on all of the safety equipment again. A brief test run followed. Step up to the ladder — it’s inside the turbine, not on the outside, as some I have talked to believed — clip into the safety line, attach the lift assist, climb up about 10 feet, come back down. Like anything, there’s a learning curve, so this step helps build confidence.

Any questions? 

Just one, from Kennedy.

“Do I have to use the lift assist?” he asks.

He doesn’t.

He decides he wants to free climb. I decide he’s crazy.

Anything else?

No.

OK. Let’s climb.

••••••••••

Kennedy and I were headed up first — Paul would do her climb later — with Bluff Point wind techs Nick Ruby and Schmiesing.

First, one of the pros headed up to the first platform — there are three platforms between the bottom of the 300-foot turbine and the top level that allow for a place to rest if needed. Then went Kennedy. Then it was my turn.

So, was it difficult?

Well, let’s talk about my best friend the lift assist. I had been told ahead of time that this device handles about 120 pounds of your body weight. When you engage the lift assist, it feels simply like a light tugging at your hips.

It was a godsend.

With the lift assist helping out, I breezed through the first portion of the climb. Think about climbing a ladder straight up, more than 100 feet. That shouldn’t be easy. But although I had a pretty good sweat going by the time I hit the first platform, I didn’t feel as if I was exerting myself much.

Once I was at the platform, the second pro made his way up. And so we went for the rest of the climb. Schmiesing or Ruby first, then Conlan or myself, then the other, then the second pro, platform by platform, all the way to the top.

••••••••••

The final part of the climb is a short ladder that leads into the nacelle, which is basically the size of an RV and houses the turbine’s generator, gearbox, drive train and brake assembly.

Atop the nacelle is a hatch. Schmiesing opens it and steps out of the way. I climb up, my torso sticking out of the nacelle, and suddenly I have a birds-eye view of the county I have called home for the last 17-plus years.

It is spectacular, surreal. It’s hard to believe I’m getting this kind of look at Jay County from anything other than an airplane or helicopter.

Once the awe begins to fade, the first trick is to get oriented. Inside the turbine, there’s not much sense of north, south, east and west.

What did I spot first?

POET Biorefining.

About six miles to the north, it stands out clearly in the landscape. Though it’s hazy in some areas, the rest is easy.

There’s Indiana 67. There’s U.S. 27. Off to the east of POET is the City of Portland, partially visible through some haze.

Most of the view is that of the farmland of Jay County. Various water towers are visible in the distance. And there are the other 56 wind turbines.

When the techs are up here on the job, they might have to climb out of the hatch — attached via safety tethers, of course — to work on the turbine.

That would be a step too far for me, but with the lower half of my body securely inside the nacelle, I’m just fine.

••••••••••

After Kennedy got his chance to look out from the hatch, it was time to head back down. It was easier than going up, but less because of the strain involved than because I had simply gotten used to the equipment.

In fact, we didn’t even bother resting at the last platform on the way down. We climbed more like the techs do — hit the platform, open the hatch, go through, close the hatch and keep on climbing.

Upon reaching the bottom, there’s nothing left but to remove the safety harness — after some pictures, of course — and talk about the experience.

To answer some of the questions above:

•I was never scared. A little apprehensive, perhaps, but not scared. That all went away once I was on scene. The safety equipment is reassuring. And once I started climbing, there was no time to be afraid. I was simply focused on the next rung.

•Claustrophobia is not a problem. The inside of the turbine isn’t as tight as one might think. I’d compare it to the size of a small bedroom.

•It wasn’t as difficult as I had expected it to be. The lift assist played a huge factor. I’m not sure I’m in good enough physical shape to make the climb without it.

In fact, Kennedy admitted the free climb was difficult. But he made it. I still think he’s crazy.

I had one question for the NextEra folks: How many non-wind techs had climbed to the top of a turbine at Bluff Point?

The answer: We were the first.