Time To Build

By Hal Phillips Photos by Paul Gero

Fits and starts have given way to the latter in southeastern Utah. In a move delayed nearly three months by the vagaries of the municipal bid process, the Monticello City Council has authorized construction of both its new golf course and the final stages of a federal Superfund clean-up project taking place across the street.

"We are going to build a golf course," says Trent Shafer, the city manager, relishing the opportunity to confirm what had been in some doubt prior to the August vote. "Now the real work begins."

Indeed. Bulldozers will start moving dirt on either side of Highway 191 this month. Remediation of the east parcel, a $1.8 million job, is scheduled for completion in July 2001 in accordance with a federal mandate. The new $2.7 million course, which will supplant the city's nine-hole layout, is scheduled to open for play in the spring of 2002.

The bid delays made for a quiet summer in Monticello, a remote community of just 2,200 residents. Approval of these projects has changed all that; the council also authorized an unrelated-but-ambitious ($500,000) sewer-improvement initiative. As a result, Schafer spent much of September writing one enormous public works contract after another.

"Here we live in rural America, and how we let our lives get so complicated, I have no idea," he muses. "Someday, we'll get back to a more managed chaos."

That isn't likely to happen soon, and he knows it. While Monticello officials may express wonder at their place in the fast lane, don't mistake this aw-shucks modesty for a lack of sophistication. Three years ago they began girding for a grim post-Superfund reality: U.S. government contractors had been in town for 15 years, cleaning up after the federal uranium mill it operated. When the feds finish and leave town in 2001, a huge chunk of economic stimulation vanishes.

Yet today, after negotiating a $6.5 million buyout from the Department of Energy, the city stands to finish the clean-up on its own terms and replace this lost revenue via a new, debt-free course. That's compelling evidence that Monticello is managing the chaos just fine.

In exchange for the $6.5 million, the city agreed in April 1999 to complete the DOE's remediation of the mill property. "To be honest," Schafer admits, "we were nervous about taking the buyout in the first place, not knowing exactly what it would take to restore the mill site. We researched it, but you're always anxious on a project of that size. None of us knew how it would turn out."

In hindsight, the city's risk wasn't so great as the federal buyout was generous and had few strings attached: So long as the mill site was cleaned to the DOE's specifications and deadlines, the city was free to spend any remaining cash.

Yet Monticello officials displayed even less risk-aversion this spring when they revealed their plans for the clean-up and this "remaining cash." After flirting with the idea of building a course on the Superfund site, city officials chose a far more venturesome path: Remediate the east parcel and use the extra money to build the course across the street.

Monticello upped the ante on itself again when it bid the east side construction project at $3 million, well below the DOE's $6.5 million estimate. This discrepancy didn't go unnoticed at the DOE or the Environmental Protection Agency, which retains oversight responsibilities. Make no mistake, the city risked the course with this stance. Had the east bids come back above $3.5 million, there would not have been enough federal money to build the course as designed by Phoenix-based Golf Group Ltd.

The marketplace would decide whose estimate was closest to reality. When the bids came back in late August, the market sided with Monticello. The low bid for the east clean-up, at just $1.8 million, was offered by Delhurr Construction of Port of Angeles, Wash. At its August meeting the council voted to accept this bid with delight. After voting to formally pursue a course on the west side of Highway 191, the council awarded the project to Daylen Construction of Fresno, Calif., which had bid $2.715 million.

"The [east] bid came in under our estimate, and any time that happens, you're happy," says Schafer. "We investigated Delhurr and they are qualified and professional; we heard nothing but attractive references. These guys have been in the reclamation business for a long time and ours is just the type of job they seek out. In fact, they're doing a mine reclamation project for the federal government right now in Colorado."

Ray Pleiness, team leader for projects in the DOE office in Grand Junction, Colo., said he was taken aback but pleased by Delhurr's winning east bid.

"The next bidder was $600,000 more, and I thought that was a good price," Pleiness says. "But all things considered, it's for the best. The $6.5 million was never intended to be a sweetheart deal; it was designed to be flexible. Bids are the first phase of any good construction project. We'll see what it really costs when all is said and done. But I'm not going to guess at that figure. I'm done guessing."

With the terms defined and contracts signed, one might think the spotlight on Monticello has dimmed. But how could it? Surely the DOE and EPA will watch whether Monticello can do a $6.5 million job for $1.8 million. Meanwhile, Schafer and the city officials, while not crowing about their aggressive bid stance, have invited the scrutiny by making the most of this government largesse.

The unsung hero in the bids might be Frank Protiva, the civil engineer whose mill site clean-up plan Delhurr agreed to implement. In accepting the DOE's buyout last year, Monticello agreed to control long-term erosion by revegetating some 120 acres of land on the east side, restore five acres of wetlands displaced by the clean-up process and rechannel about 5,000 feet of Montezuma Creek, similarly disrupted by the DOE's efforts.

"The city's engineer did a great job of coming up with substantial changes that met these objectives but reduced the quantities and cost features of the project," Pleiness explains. "Frank Protiva and his team deserve a lot of credit."

One example of this cost-effective ingenuity concerned the creek realignment. In its estimate, the DOE presumed the implementation of several expensive drop structures or energy dissipaters. As a stream falls, drop structures restrict water flow and reduce the specter of bank erosion. In the creek-realignment plan, Protiva and his team chose to restrict flow by increasing creek length.

The DOE's estimate also anticipated the importing of topsoil to regrade steep inclines and avoid further long-term erosion. Protiva's plan avoids the importation of soil, which saves more money.

"Of course, they've still got to pick up the dirt, move it and spread it," says Pleiness, who noted that the DOE estimated earth-moving costs at $4 per cubic yard, whereas Delhurr's bid indicates the company will do it for 25 cents per yard. "If they can do that for 25 cents a yard," Pleiness adds, "that's one great company."

Bidding a construction project can be a subjective exercise, especially if the bid specifications invite interpretation. Unlike the east side, the west bids for the course were competitive: several construction firms in the $2.7 million range.

"The bidding was very tight, which should give the city confidence; it certainly gives me confidence," says Dale Siemans of winning bidder Daylen Construction. "If we came in 25 percent below everyone else, I'd have to wonder, 'Did I miss something?' But when the bids are that close, it makes you believe that no one has made a mistake in the bid-specification process."

As Delhurr's bid for the east side project was some $600,000 cheaper than the next bidder, there is less confidence to go around - though Delhurr's reputation and credentials are unquestioned. "We're very happy the city chose a quality company that has the ability to do this kind of work," Pleiness says.

But financial risk remains; it's been there from the moment the city accepted the buyout. If the east remediation exceeds $1.8 million, that money will come from the city. Because it has committed to building the course for $2.7 million, the city has forfeited its wiggle room.

That's akin to playing a short-but-hazardous par-5. The city risked hitting driver, struck it true, and has been rewarded with a chance to hit the green in two. Monticello has not yet played this important approach, but past performance indicates the strong likelihood of success.

"The city took on the risk via this buyout," says Pleiness, "and I have to say that, so far, the city has exhibited excellent risk management."