Desalination, the process of turning seawater into potable water, is gaining traction as a viable solution to California’s perennial drought issues. The Golden State, with its sprawling 850-mile coastline and notorious aridity, is primed for desalination to play a pivotal role in its water management strategies.
The mission of the Seawater Desalination Test Facility in Port Hueneme, Ventura. John Chacon / California Department of Water Resources
California’s history with droughts is long and storied, with the state experiencing some of its driest years on record recently. Traditional sources of water, such as snowpacks and reservoirs, have become increasingly unreliable due to the erratic patterns of climate change. While an atmospheric river storm in 2023 and several powerful storms in 2024 and 2025 significantly eased California’s drought conditions for the time being, there is widespread concern that serious drought conditions will soon return and become the new norm.
As a response, several desalination plants have emerged along the coast. One notable example is the Claude “Bud” Lewis Carlsbad Desalination Plant in San Diego County, which is the largest in the Western Hemisphere, providing about 50 million gallons of drinking water daily.
Every day, 100 million gallons of seawater pass through semi-permeable membranes, producing 50 million gallons of fresh water delivered directly to municipal users. The Carlsbad plant, which has been fully operational since 2015, now provides roughly 10 percent of the freshwater supply used by the region’s 3.1 million residents—although at nearly double the cost of water from the region’s primary alternative sources.
Desalination is not just a process but a symphony of advanced technologies working in concert. The most prevalent method used in California is reverse osmosis (RO). RO employs a semi-permeable membrane that allows water molecules to pass through while blocking salt and other impurities. This membrane is the linchpin of the operation, designed to withstand the high pressures necessary to reverse the natural process of osmosis where normally, water would move from a low-solute concentration to a high-solute concentration.
Reverse osmosis desalination is an energy-intensive process, one that demands a significant amount of power to be effective. At its core, the technique involves forcing seawater through a semi-permeable membrane to separate salt and other minerals, yielding fresh water. This process, however, requires substantial pressure, much higher than the natural osmotic pressure of seawater, to push the water through the membrane. Achieving and maintaining this pressure consumes a considerable amount of energy. Furthermore, the energy demands are compounded by the need for constant system maintenance and the treatment of the highly saline brine that’s left over. This energy requirement is a key challenge in making reverse osmosis desalination a more widespread solution for water scarcity, as it not only increases operational costs but also has environmental implications, especially if the energy comes from non-renewable sources.
John Chacon / California Department of Water Resources
The science behind these membranes is fascinating. They are not just filters; they are engineered at the molecular level. The membranes are typically made from polyamide, created through complex chemical reactions that result in a thin film where the magic happens. Water molecules navigate through this film via tiny pores, leaving behind salts and minerals.
This scientific marvel, however, has additional environmental challenges. Along with the vast energy needs of reverse osmosis, there are also concerns about water pollution. Brine, which is the concentrated saltwater byproduct, must be carefully managed to avoid harming marine ecosystems when it’s discharged back into the ocean.
Charles E. Meyer Desalination Plant in Santa Barbara, California, plays a key role in improving water reliability and resiliency during the drought years. Florence Low / California Department of Water Resources.
Innovations continue to improve the technology, aiming to make desalination more energy-efficient and environmentally friendly. New approaches such as forward osmosis, which uses a natural osmotic pressure difference rather than mechanical pressure, and the use of alternative energies like solar and wind power are on the horizon. There’s also ongoing research into biomimetic membranes, inspired by nature’s own filtration systems, such as those found in the roots of mangrove trees or in the kidneys of animals.
In addition to the sprawling, successful desalination plant in Carlsbad, numerous other projects are on the way. The Doheny Ocean Desalination Project, located in Dana Point, has seen a significant increase in projected costs but is still moving forward. It’s expected to be completed by 2027 and will provide about 5 million gallons of drinking water daily to residents in Orange County.
In November, the California Coastal Commission greenlit a permit for the Monterey Bay Area Desalination Plant, a vast $330 million seawater desalination plant in Marina, a modest city of 22,500 people located roughly 15 minutes north of the more prosperous Monterey. The proposed Cal-Am desalination facility, if finalized, is set to produce 4.8 million gallons of fresh water daily.
Monterey Bay at Moss Landing, California. Photo: Erik Olsen
However, Marina’s Mayor, Bruce Delgado, stands in opposition to the project. He argues that it would alter the character of Marina and negatively impact its natural surroundings. Delgado contends that while his city would shoulder the environmental and industrial impacts of the plant, the adjacent, wealthier areas such as Carmel-by-the-Sea, Pacific Grove, and Pebble Beach would enjoy most of the benefits.
In February 2024, the California Department of Water Resources (DWR) released a report identifying future brackish water desalination projects to enhance the state’s water reliability. The report aims to meet goals outlined in California’s Water Supply Strategy: Adapting to a Hotter, Drier Future, which targets increasing water supply by implementing new brackish desalination projects providing 28,000 acre-feet per year by 2030 and 84,000 acre-feet per year by 2040.
As California looks to the future, the role of desalination is poised to expand. The state’s water plan includes the potential for more desalination facilities, particularly in coastal cities that are most affected by drought and have direct access to the sea. The integration of desalination technology with California’s complex water infrastructure speaks to a broader trend of marrying innovation with necessity.
The implications for drought-prone regions extend beyond just survival; they encompass the sustainability of ecosystems, economies, and communities. While desalination is not a panacea for all of California’s water woes, it represents a critical piece of the puzzle in the quest for water security in an era of uncertainty. As the technology advances, it may well become a cornerstone of how humanity adapts to a changing climate, making what was once undrinkable, a wellspring of life.
Artist’s rendering of the colossal Chicxulub meteor hurtling toward Earth, moments before impact on the Yucatán Peninsula, an event that reshaped life on our planet 66 million years ago. (Erik Olsen)
In 1977, Walter Alvarez arrived at Berkeley with rock samples from a small Italian town called Gubbio, unaware that they would help rewrite the history of life on Earth. He had spent years studying plate tectonics, but his father, Luis Alvarez, a Nobel Prize-winning physicist known for his unorthodox problem-solving at Berkeley, would propel him into a new kind of investigation, one deeply rooted in geology and Earth sciences. Their work led to one of the most significant scientific breakthroughs of the 20th century: the discovery that a massive meteorite impact was responsible for the extinction of the dinosaurs and much of life on Earth.
Luis and Walter Alvarez stand at the K–Pg boundary within the rock layers of a limestone outcrop near Gubbio, Italy, in 1981. This geological marker is linked to the asteroid impact that triggered the mass extinction 66 million years ago. (Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory)
The samples Walter had collected contained a puzzling clay layer sandwiched between older and younger limestone deposits. This clay was rich in iridium—an element rare on Earth’s surface. The discovery of such an unusually high concentration of iridium in a single layer of buried rock was perplexing. Given that iridium is far more common in extraterrestrial bodies than on Earth’s surface, its presence suggested an extraordinary event—one that had no precedent in scientific understanding at the time. The implications were staggering: if this iridium had arrived all at once, it pointed to a cataclysmic event unlike anything previously considered in Earth’s history. Although some scientists had speculated about meteor impacts, solid evidence was scarce.
Alvarez determined that this layer corresponded precisely to the Cretaceous-Paleogene (K-Pg) boundary (formerly called Cretaceous–Tertiary or K–T boundary), the geological marker of the mass extinction that eradicated the non-avian dinosaurs 66 million years ago. Scientists had long debated the cause of this catastrophe, proposing theories ranging from volcanic activity to gradual climate change. But the Alvarez team would introduce a radical new idea—one that required looking beyond Earth.
Layers of sediment at Stevns Klint, Denmark, showcasing the distinct K–Pg boundary. The dark clay layer, rich in iridium, marks the asteroid impact that led to the mass extinction of the dinosaurs 66 million years ago. (UNESCO)
Mass extinctions stand out so distinctly in the fossil record that the very structure of geological time is based on them. In 1841, geologist John Phillips divided life’s history into three chapters: the Paleozoic, or “ancient life”; the Mesozoic, or “middle life”; and the Cenozoic, or “new life.” These divisions were based on abrupt breaks in the fossil record, the most striking of which were the end-Permian extinction and the end-Cretaceous extinction, noted here. The fossils from these three eras were so different that Phillips originally believed they reflected separate acts of creation. Charles Lyell, one of the founders of modern geology, observed a “chasm” in the fossil record at the end of the Cretaceous period, where species such as belemnites, ammonites, and rudist bivalves vanished entirely. However, Lyell and later Charles Darwin dismissed these apparent sudden extinctions as mere gaps in the fossil record, preferring the idea of slow, gradual change (known as gradualism, versus catastrophism). Darwin famously compared the fossil record to a book where only scattered pages and fragments of lines had been preserved, making abrupt transitions appear more dramatic than they were.
Luis Alvarez was a physicist whose career had spanned a remarkable range of disciplines, from particle physics to aviation radar to Cold War forensics. He had a history of bold ideas, from using muon detectors to search for hidden chambers in pyramids to testing ballistic theories in the Kennedy assassination with watermelons. When Walter shared his perplexing stratigraphic findings, Luis proposed a novel method to measure how long the clay layer had taken to form: by analyzing its iridium content.
A fossilized ammonite, one of many marine species that vanished at the K–Pg boundary, marking a sharp “chasm” in the fossil record after the asteroid impact 66 million years ago. (Photo: Erik Olsen)
As discusses, Iridium is a rare element on Earth’s surface but is far more abundant in meteorites. Luis hypothesized that if the clay had accumulated slowly over thousands or millions of years, it would contain only tiny traces of iridium from cosmic dust. But if it had been deposited rapidly—perhaps by a single catastrophic event—it might show an anomalously high concentration of the element. He reached out to a Berkeley colleague, Frank Asaro, whose lab had the sophisticated equipment necessary for this kind of analysis.
Nine months after submitting their samples, Walter received a call. Asaro had found something extraordinary: the iridium levels in the clay layer were off the charts—orders of magnitude higher than expected. No one knew what to make of this. Was it a weird anomaly, or something more significant? Walter flew to Denmark to collect some late-Cretaceous sediments from a set of limestone cliffs known as Stevns Klint. At Stevns Klint, the end of the Cretaceous period shows up as a layer of clay that’s jet black and contains high amounts of organic material, including remnants of ancient marine life. When the stinky Danish samples were analyzed, they, too, revealed astronomical levels of iridium. A third set of samples, from the South Island of New Zealand, also showed an iridium “spike” right at the end of the Cretaceous. Luis, according to a colleague, reacted to the news “like a shark smelling blood”; he sensed the opportunity for a great discovery.
Stevns Klint’s towering white chalk cliffs stand as a dramatic testament to Earth’s history, preserving the thin, dark Fish Clay layer that marks the cataclysmic asteroid impact that ended the age of dinosaurs 66 million years ago. (UNESCO)
The Alvarezes batted around theories. But all the ones they could think of either didn’t fit the available data or were ruled out by further tests. Then, finally, after almost a year’s worth of dead ends, they arrived at the impact hypothesis. On an otherwise ordinary day sixty-six million years ago, an asteroid six miles wide collided with the Earth. Exploding on contact, it released energy on the order of a hundred million megatons of TNT, or more than a million of the most powerful H-bombs ever tested. Debris, including iridium from the pulverized asteroid, spread around the globe. Day turned to night, and temperatures plunged. A mass extinction ensued. Even groups that survived, like mammals and lizards, suffered dramatic die-offs in the aftermath. Who perished, and who survived, set the stage for the next 66 million years—including our own origin 300,000 years ago.
The Alvarezes wrote up the results from Gubbio and Stevns Klint and sent them, along with their proposed explanation, to Science. “I can remember working very hard to make that paper just as solid as it could possibly be,” Walter later recalled. Their paper, Extraterrestrial Cause for the Cretaceous-Tertiary Extinction, was published in June 1980. It generated enormous excitement, much of it beyond the bounds of paleontology, but it was also ridiculed by some who considered the idea far-fetched, if not ridiculous. Journals in disciplines ranging from clinical psychology to herpetology reported on the Alvarezes’ findings, and soon the idea of an end-Cretaceous asteroid was picked up by magazines like Time and Newsweek. In an essay in The New York Review of Books, the late American paleontologist Stephen Jay Gould quipped that linking dinosaurs—long an object of fascination—to a major cosmic event was “like a scheme a clever publisher might devise to ensure high readership.”
Inspired by the impact hypothesis, a group of astrophysicists led by Carl Sagan decided to try to model the effects of an all-out war and came up with the concept of “nuclear winter,” which, in turn, generated its own wave of media coverage. But as the discovery sank in among many professional paleontologists, the Alvarezes’ idea—and in many cases, the Alvarezes themselves—were met with hostility. “The apparent mass extinction is an artifact of statistics and poor understanding of the taxonomy,” one paleontologist told The New York Times. “The arrogance.”
Skepticism was immediate and intense. Paleontologists, geologists, and physicists debated the implications of the iridium anomaly. But as the search for supporting evidence intensified, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Shocked quartz, a telltale sign of high-energy impacts, was found at sites around the world. Soot deposits suggested massive wildfires had raged in the aftermath.
Artists rendering of T-rex and other dinosaurs prior to the impact of the asteroid (Erik Olsen)
In the early 1990s, conclusive evidence finally emerged. The Chicxulub crater, measuring roughly 180 kilometers across and buried under about half a mile of sediment in Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula, was identified as the likely impact site. Although it was first detected by Mexico’s state-run oil company (PEMEX) in the 1950s during geophysical surveys, core samples taken decades later clinched the identification of Chicxulub as the long-sought impact site linked to the mass extinction that ended the Cretaceous era.
One of the more intriguing (if not astounding) recent discoveries tied to the end-Cretaceous impact is a site called Tanis, located in North Dakota’s Hell Creek Formation. Discovered in 2019 by a team led by Robert DePalma and spotlighted in a New Yorker article, Tanis preserves a remarkable snapshot of what appears to be the immediate aftermath of the asteroid strike.
Tanis fossils (Image credit: Courtesy of Robert DePalma)
The sedimentary layers at Tanis indicate large waves—often called “seiche waves”—that may have surged inland in the immediate aftermath of the impact. They also contain countless tiny glass spherules that rained down after the explosion. Known as microtektites, these blobs form when molten rock is hurled into the atmosphere by an asteroid collision and solidifies as it falls back to Earth. The site appears to hold them by the millions. In some cases, fish fossils have been found with these glass droplets lodged in their gills—a striking testament to how suddenly life was disrupted.
Although still under investigation, Tanis has drawn attention for its exceptional level of detail, potentially capturing events that took place within mere hours of the impact. The precise interpretation of this site continues to spark controversy among researchers. There is also controversy about the broader cause of the mass extinction itself: the main competing hypothesis is that the colossal “Deccan” volcanic eruptions, in what would become India, spewed enough sulfur and carbon dioxide into the atmosphere to cause a dramatic climatic shift. However, the wave-like deposits, along with the abundant glass spherules, suggest a rapid and violent disturbance consistent with a massive asteroid strike. Researchers hope to learn more about the precise sequence of disasters that followed—tidal waves, intense firestorms, and global darkness—further fleshing out the story of how the world changed so drastically, so quickly.
Glass spherules from cosmic impacts—microtektites from Tanis, tiny relics of Earth’s violent encounters with space. (Image credit: Courtesy of Robert DePalma)
All said, today the Alvarez hypothesis is widely accepted as the leading explanation for the K-Pg mass extinction. Their contributions at UC Berkeley—widely recognized as one of the world’s preeminent public institutions—not only reshaped our understanding of Earth’s history but also changed how we perceive planetary hazards. The realization that cosmic collisions have shaped life’s trajectory has led to renewed interest in asteroid detection and planetary defense.
Walter and Luis Alvarez’s discovery was a testament to the power of interdisciplinary science and the willingness to follow unconventional ideas. Their pursuit of an extraterrestrial explanation for a terrestrial mystery reshaped paleontology, geology, and astrophysics. What began with a father and son pondering an ancient Italian rock layer ended in a revelation that forever changed how we understand the history of life—and its vulnerability to forces from beyond our world.
The creosote bush, a seemingly unassuming plant that dots the arid expanses of North American deserts, holds secrets to aging that would make Silicon Valley longevity bros green with envy. In the Mojave Desert, one creosote plant known as “King Clone” is estimated to be over 12,000 years old, making it one of the oldest living clonal organisms on Earth. This astonishing fact was highlighted in the BBC series The Green Planet, where Sir David Attenborough brought the extraordinary resilience and survival strategies of desert flora to a broad public audience. The series as a whole is excellent, but the episode on desert plants, Desert Worlds, was especially fascinating and enlightening—particularly for a dedicated succulent fan like me. Watching it inspired me to research and write this article.
While many of the other filming locations were far-flung landscapes like the Succulent Karoo Desert in South Africa, one story unfolds in California’s Mojave Desert, where Attenborough, with his signature mellifluous voice, marvels at the remarkable longevity of the creosote bush. In a compelling scene, Attenborough revisits “King Clone” in the Mojave that he first filmed in 1982 for “The Living Planet.” Despite the four-decade interval, the bush had grown less than one inch, highlighting its incredibly slow growth rate.
Creosote bushes, or Larrea tridentata, are native to the deserts of the southwestern United States and northern Mexico. Though often associated with arid landscapes, they are also a defining species of desert chaparral. Much of Southern California’s landscape is dominated by chaparral, a diverse and resilient plant community adapted to dry summers, periodic wildfires, and nutrient-poor soils. This ecosystem, characterized by drought-resistant shrubs like manzanita, chamise, and scrub oak, extends from coastal foothills to inland mountains, shaping the region’s ecology and fire cycles.
Creosote bushes thrive in some of the harshest environments on the planet, enduring scorching temperatures, relentless sunlight, and prolonged droughts. Few other plants are so hardy. The secret to their survival lies in their evolutionary adaptations, honed over millennia to combat the unforgiving desert landscape.
As climate change intensifies heatwaves and disrupts rainfall patterns, even these desert survivors are showing signs of stress. Rising temperatures accelerate evapotranspiration, pushing groundwater further out of reach, while prolonged droughts hinder seedling establishment, threatening the species’ long-term viability. Scientists are studying how creosote’s resilience is being tested, and whether its decline could signal deeper ecological shifts in desert ecosystems already on the edge of survival. A 2021 University of California, Irvine study observed a 35% decrease in vegetation cover, including creosote bushes, in Southern California deserts between 1984 and 2017, attributing this decline to rising temperatures and increased aridity.
Golden bursts of resilience—creosote in bloom, thriving in the heart of the desert. (Erik Olsen)
Despite its usual appearance as a dry, uninviting shrub, the creosote bush surprises with delicate bursts of yellow when it blooms. After rainfall, its tough, resinous branches come alive with small, waxy flowers, adding a rare vibrancy to the desert. Unlike many plants that follow a strict seasonal cycle, creosote can bloom multiple times a year whenever moisture allows, a testament to its adaptability.
As mentioned, one of the most fascinating aspects of the creosote bush is its strategy of slow growth. This deliberate pace is not a sign of fragility but an ingenious response to scarcity. By growing slowly, creosote bushes conserve precious resources like water and nutrients, ensuring their survival even in the driest years. Few plants are quite so good at this feat. Their roots extend deep into the ground, tapping into hidden water reserves, while their leaves are coated in a waxy layer to minimize water loss through evaporation. This slow-and-steady approach has allowed them to outlast countless environmental changes and competitors. As a result of this unique adaptation, the creosote largely dominates much of the desert landscape, particularly in the Mojave. If you’ve ever driven along Highway 395 through the desert, creosote bushes often dot the landscape for as far as the eye can see.
Creosote in the Mojave desert (Photo: Erik Olsen)
The creosote bush’s longevity also owes much to its clonal growth pattern, where new stems sprout from the same root system, allowing the plant to persist for thousands of years. King Clone, for instance, is not a single plant but a massive clonal colony that spans over 11 meters in diameter. Each stem may live for decades before dying off, but new stems sprout from the same root system, creating a continuous cycle of renewal. This clonal reproduction ensures genetic stability and resilience, enabling the plant to survive for thousands of years. While King Clone represents one of the oldest clonal organisms, it is important to distinguish this from the bristlecone pine (see our story), which holds the title for the oldest singular organism. Unlike the creosote bush, which survives through clonal reproduction by sprouting new stems from a shared root system, the bristlecone pine—like the renowned “Methuselah“—is a single tree that has endured for nearly 5,000 years as an individual entity. (Ponder that for a moment).
Beyond its impressive age and survival strategies, the creosote bush plays a vital ecological role. It provides shelter and sustenance for desert wildlife, including insects, rodents, and birds. Its resinous leaves emit a distinctive odor after rain—a smell that is deeply evocative of the desert and beloved by many who live near these arid regions. Indigenous peoples have long used the plant for medicinal purposes, creating teas and poultices from its leaves to treat ailments such as colds, wounds, and infections.
A vast expanse of chaparral stretches endlessly across the eastern Sierra, its rugged shrubs and hardy vegetation thriving in the dry, windswept landscape. (Erik Olsen)
Recent scientific studies have uncovered more about the creosote bush’s unique chemistry. The plant produces a range of compounds to deter herbivores and pathogens, many of which have potential applications in medicine and agriculture. These secondary metabolites are a testament to the plant’s evolutionary ingenuity, further demonstrating how it has carved out a niche in an inhospitable environment. Researchers at the Skaggs School of Pharmacy and Pharmaceutical Sciences at the University of California San Diego and the University of Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus have discovered that compounds from the creosote bush possess strong anti-parasitic properties. These compounds effectively target the protozoa responsible for giardia infections and an amoeba that causes a potentially deadly form of encephalitis. Similarly, The creosote bush contains the antioxidant nordihydroguaiaretic acid (NDGA), which has been extensively studied for its potential anti-carcinogenic, bactericidal, and preservative properties.
Creosote in the Mojave Desert (Photo: Erik Olsen)
Creosote has played a starring role in the cultural mythology of the American Southwest, serving as a symbol of endurance, isolation, and the stark beauty of the desert. In Edward Abbey’s Desert Solitaire, the tough shrub embodies the rugged resilience of the land, surviving in the harshest conditions with roots that tap deep into the earth. Similarly, in Blood Meridian, Cormac McCarthy’s sun-scorched landscapes are often sprawling with creosote, reinforcing the novel’s themes of violence and survival. The plant also makes its way into music, as seen in Tom Russell’s song Creosote, where it becomes a poetic stand-in for the rough, untamed spirit of the Southwest. Even in visual media like Breaking Bad, the ever-present creosote in the barren New Mexico desert could be interpreted as a symbol of the transformation of Walter White, mirroring the show’s themes of survival at any cost. Across literature, music, and film, creosote remains an enduring emblem of the Southwest, its gnarled branches and pungent scent evoking both the loneliness and allure of the desert frontier.
By the time the animals were secured and they had thrown themselves on the ground under the creosote bushes with their weapons readied the riders were beginning to appear far out on the lake bed, a thin frieze of mounted archers that trembled and veered in the rising heat.
Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy
One aim of this publication is to illuminate the mystery and wonder of the world around us. For those of us who call California home, as I have for most of my life (including being born here), we are constantly surrounded by a powerful, awe-inspiring nature—one that is both captivating and exhilarating. Yet, truly grasping the uniqueness of this place often requires more than a passing glance. Even a plant as seemingly ordinary as the creosote bush holds something extraordinary, a blend of magic and science waiting to be recognized. My hope is that on your next drive through the desert, you see that stark landscape with fresh eyes, with a little more respect, a little more wonder, and a deeper sense of admiration.
The Unlikely Intersection of Military Training and Coastal Preservation
An endangered species sign is posted along the coastline on Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, California, March 29, 2022. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Lance Cpl. Nataly Espitia)
Driving along the Pacific Coast Highway, much of the Southern California coastline is a continuous stretch of development—expensive homes, commercial malls, and highways and railways built right up against the ocean. Then, unexpectedly, you reach Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, a vast, largely undeveloped expanse that starkly contrasts with the urban sprawl. This uninterrupted stretch of coastline offers a rare glimpse into what the region once looked like, a reminder of California’s natural beauty before widespread development.
We’re not suggesting that coastal development is inherently bad, but having stretches of coastline that preserve the coast’s natural state offers a valuable reminder of what it once looked like. One drawback of the base is that, as an active military installation, public access is highly restricted. However, this limited access has helped preserve the coastline in ways that might not have been possible otherwise. (Another well-known and much more accessible area with restricted development lies just to the north at Crystal Cove State Park in Orange County, a protected stretch of land established in 1979 that remains open to the public. It features some of the finest beaches in Southern California – IMHO.)
California least terns (Ernesto Gomez, Public Domain)
Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton spans approximately 125,000 acres, including more than 17 miles of coastline in northwestern San Diego County. With less than 20% of the land developed, the base serves as a critical ecological buffer between the densely urbanized regions to its north and south. The base has served as a critical training ground for the U.S. Marine Corps since 1942. However, its restricted access and limited development have inadvertently preserved some of Southern California’s last remaining wild coastal terrain. As a result, the base has become an unlikely sanctuary for a rich array of plant and animal species, many of which are endangered or rare.
The base’s diverse ecosystems offer a window into California’s historical and biological landscapes prior to extensive development. Camp Pendleton’s coastal dunes, estuaries, chaparral, riparian woodlands, and sage scrub provide a range of habitats that are now scarce elsewhere. The base is home to 19 federally listed species, including the California least tern, a seabird that relies on the base’s protected beaches for nesting. The Santa Margarita River, one of the last free-flowing rivers in Southern California, cuts through the base, providing essential water resources for both wildlife and plant communities.
“Camp Pendleton is a biodiversity hotspot,” Melissa Vogt, a conservation law enforcement officer with Environmental Security said in a statement. “If it weren’t for Camp Pendleton existing, all this coastline would be condos and hotels.”
Camp Pendleton
Because of its ecological significance, Camp Pendleton has become a prime location for scientific study. Botanists have discovered species like the Pendleton button-celery (Eryngium pendletonense), a plant found only within the base. The relatively undisturbed nature of the land allows researchers to examine Southern California’s native ecosystems as they once were, offering insights into habitat conservation and restoration efforts beyond the base’s borders. There are few places left like it along the Southern California coast. Among other species benefiting from these efforts is the coast horned lizard (Phrynosoma blainvillii), a reptile that relies on sandy soils and native chaparral for shelter and food. The base’s protected status has helped sustain this lizard’s population, which has declined in many other parts of its range due to habitat loss.
Arroyo toad – Anaxyrus californicus (US Fish and Wildlife Service)
The base’s management practices have contributed to the survival of species once thought to be on the brink of extinction. One of the most notable examples is the Pacific pocket mouse, a tiny rodent that was believed extinct until a population was rediscovered within Camp Pendleton in the 1990s. Conservationists, including the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, have since reintroduced captive-bred individuals to increase their numbers in protected areas on the base.
Similarly, the base’s wetlands and riparian zones serve as critical habitat for the southwestern willow flycatcher, an endangered songbird, as well as the arroyo toad, which depends on unspoiled riverbanks for breeding. Without the base’s restrictions on urban development, many of these species might have disappeared entirely from Southern California.
Lake O’Neill, located on Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, California, is a popular destination for fishing and camping and is a home to a wide variety of wildlife. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Lance Cpl. Nataly Espitia)
Recognizing the base’s ecological value, Camp Pendleton has taken significant steps toward wildlife preservation through proactive environmental management. The Environmental Security Department has worked closely with researchers to document biodiversity, implement habitat restoration efforts, and ensure compliance with the Endangered Species Act. A key part of these efforts includes protecting breeding grounds and restoring sensitive habitats, such as the coastal dune systems that support the California least tern and the western snowy plover. Entomologists from the San Diego Natural History Museum have conducted extensive surveys on the base, cataloging insect and spider species across six distinct vegetation zones. These studies not only provide valuable data on the health of Southern California’s ecosystems but also help track how climate change is affecting biodiversity in the region.
“For any wildlife biologist that’s working with a threatened or endangered species, the ultimate goal is getting the animal off the list and making sure the species is doing well,” Nate Redetzke, Environmental Security wildlife biologist, said on the official US Marines Website.
The base has also implemented a long-term natural resource management plan that balances military training with conservation efforts. It may seem unlikely for troop transport vehicles to operate alongside protected coastal wilderness, but the balance between military use and conservation has largely been seen as a success.
Western snowy plover (Wikipedia)
The efforts include extensive land management practices such as erosion control, invasive species removal, and water quality monitoring to sustain Camp Pendleton’s ecosystems. In recent years, conservation teams have also focused on restoring the estuary habitats along the Santa Margarita River to enhance biodiversity and ensure the resilience of species that depend on these wetlands. This includes seasonal restrictions in certain areas to protect breeding wildlife, habitat restoration projects, and collaborations with state and federal agencies to support species recovery programs. Again, it’s complicated, but it seems to be working. These efforts were recognized when the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service awarded Camp Pendleton the Military Conservation Partner Award in 2022 for its leadership in environmental stewardship.
Remarkably, the base is also home to a small herd of American bison, which have roamed Camp Pendleton for decades. Originally introduced in the 1970s as part of a now-defunct recreational program, these bison have since adapted to the landscape, living largely undisturbed within the base’s remote areas. While not native to the region, their presence adds another layer of ecological interest to this protected land, demonstrating how species can persist in unexpected places.
An American bison herd roams the hills on Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, California. (Marine Corps Photo by Lance Cpl. Andrew Cortez)
Camp Pendleton’s example demonstrates that large-scale conservation can happen in unexpected places. While military training remains its primary function, the base has unintentionally preserved one of the last remaining stretches of undeveloped Southern California coastline. In doing so, it has provided scientists with a unique opportunity to study and protect a wide range of species that might have otherwise been lost.
Of course, Camp Pendleton isn’t the only place where government protection for reasons other than conservation has preserved a remarkably untouched stretch of California’s coastline. Vandenberg Space Force Base, further north, restricts public access due to its role in military space launches, but in doing so, it has safeguarded miles of rugged shoreline and sensitive habitats. Similarly, Point Reyes National Seashore, though managed primarily for recreation and historical preservation, remains a rare example of undeveloped coastal wilderness in the Bay Area. Off the coast, some of the Channel Islands, particularly those further out but within Channel Islands National Park, have remained largely untouched due to federal protection, while others have suffered from past military activity and invasive species. Like Camp Pendleton, these areas demonstrate how federal oversight, whether for military, scientific, or historical purposes, has unintentionally maintained some of California’s last truly wild coastal spaces.
The Legacy of One of North America’s Largest Volcanic Eruptions
The Long Valley Caldera is one of the most active volcanic sites in the United States. Here, the Owens River flows through it, winding south through Owens Valley. (Erik Olsen)
Driving up Highway 395 toward Mammoth Lakes is one of the most breathtaking road trips in California. The highway winds through the rugged Eastern Sierra, offering stunning views of snow-capped peaks, alpine meadows, and vast chaparral plains. But beneath this dramatic landscape lurks a hidden danger—an ancient volcanic giant that still stirs beneath the surface.
The Long Valley Caldera in eastern California is an extraordinary geological feature, spanning about 20 miles in length and 11 miles in width. It owes its existence to one of the most dramatic volcanic events in Earth’s history, a supereruption that occurred approximately 760,000 years ago. This event, known as the Bishop Tuff eruption, ejected an estimated 150 cubic miles of molten rock and ash into the atmosphere, far surpassing the 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helens, which released just 0.3 cubic miles of material. The magnitude of the Bishop Tuff eruption resulted in the collapse of the ground above the magma chamber, creating a massive depression known as a caldera. In other words, it’s hard to get your head around how big this eruption was.
The Long Valley Caldera is a striking reminder of Earth’s immense, often hidden, volcanic power and its potential for destruction—located right here in California, near one of the nation’s most popular ski towns, Mammoth Lakes. Geothermal activity, visible in the form of hot springs, fumaroles, and hydrothermal systems, is a constant feature of the landscape. This activity has made the caldera a hub for geothermal energy production, with the Casa Diablo thermal power plant utilizing its subterranean heat to generate electricity. The energy produced at Casa Diablo is enough to power about 36,000 homes, making it an important renewable energy source for the region.
Casa Diablo Geothermal Facility, Long Valley Caldera, California (Erik Olsen)
The surface of the caldera is also marked by the Bishop Tuff, a layer of welded volcanic ash that provides a vivid record of the eruption’s intensity and the pyroclastic flows that reshaped the landscape. Pyroclastic flows are fast-moving, hot clouds of gas and volcanic material that can destroy everything in their path. Often they are considered more dangerous than the lava that pours forth from an erupting volcano. For example, pyroclastic flows killed far more people at Pompeii than lava, as the 79 AD eruption of Mount Vesuvius unleashed fast-moving clouds of superheated gas, ash, and volcanic debris that raced down the slopes at over 100 mph, reaching temperatures above 1,000°F, instantly asphyxiating and incinerating thousands, while the slower-moving lava played a minimal role in fatalities.
Geothermal features at the Long Valley Caldera commonly support microbial communities of thermophilic bacteria and algae, which thrive in the caldera’s hot springs and fumaroles. These organisms not only influence the terrain by contributing to mineral precipitation but also serve as models for studying life in extreme environments, offering analogs for early Earth and potential extraterrestrial ecosystems. Scientists are just beginning to understand how these bacteria live and thrive in deep ocean vent systems. In some areas around the Long Valley Caldera and Mono Lake, mats of thermophilic bacteria and algae thrive around the geothermal features, like the many hot tubs that dot the landscape, forming colorful, textured surfaces. These microbial communities contribute to the unique environment and can even make the ground feel crunchy underfoot, offering a tangible connection to the caldera’s dynamic, living systems.
The Owens River flows through the Long Valley Caldera near Mammoth Lakes, California (Erik Olsen)
While the caldera’s formation was sudden and catastrophic, its story stretches back millions of years. Scientific studies at the Long Valley Caldera have advanced our understanding of volcanic processes, crustal dynamics, and geothermal systems. The Long Valley Caldera sits within the Basin and Range Province, an area of North America characterized by extensional tectonics, where the Earth’s crust is being pulled apart, allowing magma to rise to the surface.
Using seismic tomography, researchers have mapped the magma chamber beneath the caldera, revealing a layered structure with a partially molten zone capped by solidified magma. This configuration, as highlighted in a 2023 study published in Science Advances, helps explain the periodic episodes of unrest observed in the caldera and provides a basis for assessing potential future activity. Before the eruption, the region experienced significant volcanic activity, with lava flows and smaller eruptions setting the stage for what was to come. Even after the formation of the caldera, volcanic activity continued in the area. Rhyolitic lava flows emerged within the caldera, and the nearby Mono-Inyo Craters volcanic chain has seen eruptions as recently as 600 years ago, underscoring the region’s enduring geological vitality.
Horseshoe Lake in the Mammoth Lakes area, where underground carbon dioxide emissions have caused widespread tree die-off (Photo: Erik Olsen)
Another place where the region’s volcanic activity can be experienced firsthand is Horseshoe Lake, where carbon dioxide continuously seeps from the ground, suffocating tree roots and causing a vast die-off of trees. The result is a barren, almost ghostly landscape of skeletal trunks and lifeless ground, a stark reminder that Long Valley’s volcanic system is still active beneath the surface. The area is not just eerie but also hazardous—high concentrations of CO₂ can accumulate in low-lying areas, posing a serious risk to humans and animals. Signs around the site warn visitors of the danger, as pockets of odorless, colorless gas can be lethal if inhaled in high enough doses.
Hot Springs geological site near Mammoth Lakes, California. (Erik Olsen)
The caldera has not been entirely quiet since its dramatic birth. Ground deformation studies, using GPS and InSAR technology (satellites), have tracked uplift in the caldera’s floor, offering critical data on magma movement and hydrothermal activity. In a 2016 study published in Geophysical Research Letters, researchers linked changes in uplift patterns to deeper magmatic processes, reinforcing the importance of continuous monitoring. In 1980, a series of magnitude 6 earthquakes occurred along its southern margin, drawing the attention of volcanologists from USGS. These earthquakes were accompanied by noticeable uplift in the caldera’s floor, a sign of magma movement beneath the surface. Since then, the region has experienced periodic episodes of ground deformation and seismic activity, reminding scientists that the volcanic system beneath Long Valley is far from dormant.
Recent research has provided valuable insights into the caldera’s potential for future activity. While there is currently no indication of an imminent eruption, the area is closely monitored by the United States Geological Survey (USGS). This surveillance includes the measurement of ground deformation, gas emissions, and seismic activity, all of which serve as indicators of changes within the magma chamber. The 1980s unrest heightened awareness of the need for vigilance, particularly in regions where volcanic hazards could affect human populations.
Mono Lake is home to thermophilic (heat-loving) and extremophilic (extreme-condition-loving) bacteria. These microorganisms thrive in the lake’s unusual environment, characterized by high alkalinity, high salinity, and elevated levels of carbonate. (Erik Olsen)
As a result of these studies, the town of Mammoth Lakes took proactive measures to ensure public safety. Local authorities constructed an emergency evacuation route to serve as an escape in the event of a volcanic eruption or other natural disaster stemming from the Long Valley Caldera. After local businesses and residents expressed concerns that the original name implied danger, it was changed to Mammoth Scenic Loop to emphasize the area’s beauty and appeal. The United States Geological Survey (USGS) also intensified its monitoring efforts, implementing a color-coded alert system to communicate volcanic activity risks.
Beyond its scientific significance, the Long Valley Caldera is a destination for outdoor enthusiasts and other researchers. Numerous hot springs dot the landscape and are immensely popular among tourists and residents. Mammoth Lakes is one of California’s top recreational spots, providing amazing opportunities to hike and fish during the summer and excellent skiing in the winter months. For geologists, the caldera serves as a natural laboratory, providing an opportunity to study volcanic processes in a setting shaped by one of the most powerful eruptions in recent geological history.
The eastern Sierra reflected in Little Alkali Lake near the Long Valley Caldera (Erik Olsen)
Of course, there remain certain dangers to all this volcanic activity. On April 6, 2006, three members of the Mammoth Mountain ski patrol tragically lost their lives after falling into a volcanic fumarole near the summit. The incident happened while they were conducting safety operations to secure a snow-covered geothermal vent following an unprecedented snowfall. If you’ve ever skied Mammoth before, there is a distinct sulphurous smell around the Christmas Bowl ski run at Chair 3 near McCoy Station.
Steam from an active fumarole near McCoy Station on Mammoth Mountain in 2012. (Flickr)
Standing at the center of the Long Valley Caldera, surrounded by the remnants of a prehistoric supereruption, offers a profound sense of scale and wonder. The vastness of the caldera, framed by the Sierra Nevada and dotted with geothermal vents, creates a landscape that feels alive yet ancient. It’s amazing place to be, both during the day and at night when the stars spread out across the gaping Sierra sky. The ground beneath your feet, shaped by cataclysmic forces, whispers of Earth’s power and the quiet persistence of geological time. Yet beneath the surface, the processes that shaped it continue to evolve, as magma slowly shifts and geothermal systems release heat from the planet’s interior. As research continues and technology advances, the Long Valley Caldera will undoubtedly yield further insights into the intricate workings of our planet’s volcanic systems.
Rare earth metals are now essential to the global economy, powering everything from smartphones and electric vehicles to wind turbines and defense systems. As China continues to dominate the market—producing more than 70% of the world’s supply—the urgency to find reliable alternatives has grown. The United States is locked in a high-stakes race to secure new sources of rare earth elements, along with other critical minerals like lithium and nickel, which are key to the clean energy transition. At the center of this effort is a storied mine in California that not only helped launch the rare earth industry decades ago but now stands as America’s most promising hope for rebuilding a domestic supply chain.
Mining shaped California’s growth, from the 1849 Gold Rush to key industries like mercury, silver, copper, tungsten, and boron. While some have declined, others, like the Rio Tinto U.S. Borax Mine in Boron, California, remain major global suppliers, while rare earth element extraction continues to be an important industry.
MP Materials’ Mountain Pass rare earths mine in California is a remarkable example of industrial resurgence and the strategic importance of critical metals in the modern era. Located in Mountain Pass in the remote Californian desert near the Nevada border (it’s easily viewable from Interstate 15), this mine, initially developed in the mid-20th century, has seen dramatic shifts in fortune, technology, and geopolitics, reflecting the complex role rare earth elements (REEs) play in global industries.
The rock at Mountain Pass contains an average of 7 to 8 percent rare earth elements—a remarkably high concentration by industry standards. This richness is a key factor in the mine’s potential. However, extracting these valuable elements from the surrounding material remains a challenge.
Discovered in 1949 while prospectors searched for uranium, the Mountain Pass deposit instead revealed bastnaesite, an ore rich in rare earth elements like neodymium, europium, and dysprosium. These elements are indispensable to modern technologies, powering innovations across consumer electronics, environmental solutions, and advanced military systems.
A computer-controlled arm deposits the raw crushed ore into a mound at the MP Materials mine and ore processing site in Mountain Pass, CA. (Courtesy: MP Materials)
Smartphones, for instance, are packed with rare earth elements that enable their functionality. Europium and gadolinium enhance the brightness and color of their screens. Lanthanum and praseodymium contribute to the efficiency of their circuits, while terbium and dysprosium enable the compact, high-performance speakers. Beyond smartphones, rare earth elements are essential to electric vehicles and renewable energy technologies, particularly in the production of permanent magnets. Thanks to their distinctive atomic structure, rare earth elements can produce magnetic fields far stronger than those generated by other magnetizable materials like iron. This exceptional capability arises from their partially filled 4f electron shell, which is shielded by outer electrons. This configuration not only gives them unique magnetic properties but also results in complex electronic arrangements and a tendency for unpaired electrons with similar spins. These characteristics make rare earth elements indispensable for creating the most advanced and powerful commercial magnets, as well as for applications in cutting-edge electronics.
Permanent magnets are among the most significant uses of rare earths, as they convert motion into electricity and vice versa. In the 1980s, scientists discovered that adding small amounts of rare earth metals like neodymium and dysprosium to iron and boron created incredibly powerful magnets. These magnets are ubiquitous in modern technology: tiny ones make your phone vibrate, medium-sized ones power the wheels of electric cars, and massive ones in wind turbines transform the motion of air into electricity. A single wind turbine can require up to 500 pounds of rare earth metals, highlighting their critical role in reducing greenhouse gas emissions.
MP Materials Processing Facility in Mountain Pass, California (Courtesy: MP Materials)
Additionally, rare earths play a significant role in environmental applications. Cerium is used in catalytic converters to reduce vehicle emissions, while lanthanum enhances the efficiency of water purification systems. Rare earth-based phosphors are employed in energy-efficient lighting, such as LED bulbs, which are central to reducing global energy consumption.
The importance of these elements underpins the strategic value of deposits like Mountain Pass, making the extraction and refinement of rare earths a critical aspect of both technological progress and national security. In the military domain, rare earths are integral to cutting-edge systems. They are used in the production of advanced lasers, radar systems, night vision equipment, missile guidance systems, and jet engines. According the the Department of Defense, for example, the F-35 Lightning II aircraft requires more than 900 pounds of rare earth elements. Alloys containing rare earth elements also strengthen armored vehicles, while lanthanum aids in camera lenses and night vision optics, giving military forces a strategic advantage.
Bastnaesite concentrate. Bastnaesite is a mineral that plays a crucial role in the production of rare earth metals. (Courtesy of MP Materials)
To fully appreciate the significance of rare earth elements and their crucial role in the United State’s economic future, it’s essential to explore the history of Mountain Pass, one of the most important rare earth mines in the world. This storied site not only played a pivotal role in meeting the surging demand for these elements but also serves as a case study in the challenges of balancing industrial ambition with environmental responsibility.
The Molybdenum Corporation of America, later renamed Molycorp, initially capitalized on the booming demand for europium in color televisions during the 1960s. In 1952, the company acquired the Mountain Pass site, recognizing its rich deposits of rare earth minerals. As the first major player in rare earths in the United States, it began operations at Mountain Pass, establishing a foothold in the burgeoning industry. Over the ensuing decades, Mountain Pass became the world’s premier source of rare earths, serving a growing market for advanced materials.
By the 1990s, however, the mine faced significant challenges. Environmental damage caused by leaks of heavy metals andradioactive wastewater led to regulatory scrutiny and costly fines, culminating in the mine’s closure. During its dormancy, global rare earth production shifted overwhelmingly to China, which gained near-monopoly control over the market. By the time Molycorp attempted to revive the site in the early 2000s, it struggled against operational inefficiencies, low rare earth prices, and fierce Chinese competition. Molycorp eventually declared bankruptcy, leaving the mine idle once again.
MP Materials Mine Facility (Photo: Erik Olsen)
In 2017, MP Materials, led by investors including Michael Rosenthal and Jim Litinsky, acquired the shuttered Mountain Pass mine after recognizing its untapped potential. Initially, they anticipated an established mining or strategic buyer would emerge. Faced with the risk of losing the mine’s permit and seeing it permanently closed through reclamation, they made the bold decision to operate it themselves. To restart operations, MP Materials partnered with Shenghe Resources, a Chinese state-backed company that provided critical early funding and became the company’s primary customer. Through this arrangement, MP shipped raw rare earth concentrate to China for processing, laying the foundation for a business model that was heavily reliant on the Chinese supply chain.
Over the next several years, Mountain Pass far exceeded expectations. By 2022, it was producing 42,000 metric tons of rare earth oxides—three times the best output achieved under its previous owner, Molycorp—and accounted for about 15% of global production. In 2024, the mine hit a U.S. production record with over 45,000 metric tons of REO in concentrate. But even as the mine’s output surged, MP Materials’ ties to China remained central to its operations. Shenghe not only purchased the bulk of that concentrate but also maintained an 8% ownership stake. In 2024, roughly 80% of MP’s revenue came from this relationship. That changed in 2025, when China imposed steep tariffs and new export restrictions. MP responded by halting all shipments to China, shifting instead to processing much of its output domestically and selling to U.S.-aligned markets like Japan and South Korea. It has since invested nearly $1 billion to build out a full domestic supply chain and launched a joint venture with Saudi Arabia’s Ma’aden, marking a decisive pivot away from reliance on China.
The processing of rare earth elements, particularly for high-value applications like magnets, involves a complex, multi-step value chain. It begins with extraction, where ores containing rare earths are mined, followed by beneficiation, a process that concentrates the ore to increase its rare earth content. Next, separation and refining isolate individual rare earth oxides through solvent extraction or other chemical methods. These refined oxides then undergo metallization, where they are reduced into their metallic form, making them suitable for further industrial use. The metals are then alloyed with other elements to enhance their properties, and finally, the material is shaped into high-performance magnets essential for applications in electric vehicles, wind turbines, and advanced electronics. Each of these steps presents significant technical, economic, and environmental challenges, making rare earth processing one of the most intricate and strategically important supply chains in modern technology.
Bastnaesite ore (Wikipedia)
Despite MP Materials’ success and efforts to ramp up facets of processing at its Mountain Pass mine in California, a critical portion of the rare earth refining process—metallization, alloying, and magnet manufacturing—remains dependent on other countries, including China and Japan. These procedures are both intricate and environmentally taxing, and California’s stringent regulatory framework, designed to prioritize environmental protections, has made domestic processing particularly challenging. Across the rare earths industry, this dependence on Chinese facilities exposes a significant vulnerability in the rare earth supply chain, leaving the United States and other countries reliant on foreign infrastructure to produce critical materials essential for technologies such as electric vehicles and advanced military systems.
However, to address the dependency on foreign processing, MP Materials is investing heavily in building a fully domestic rare earth supply chain. At its Mountain Pass mine in California, the company is enhancing its processing and separation capabilities to refine rare earth elements on-site. Meanwhile, at its new Independence facility in Fort Worth, Texas, MP Materials has begun producingneodymium-praseodymium (NdPr) metal and trialing sintered neodymium-iron-boron (NdFeB) magnets. This facility marks the first domestic production of these critical materials in decades, with the capability to produce 1,000 metric tons of magnets annually, amounting to the production of roughly half a million EV motors.
“This is our ultimate goal,” says Matt Sloustcher, EVP of Corporate Affairs for MP Materials. “To handle the entire separation and refining process on-site—but that ramp-up takes time.”
Individual slings of PrNd Oxide, the primary product produced at MP Materials. (Courtesy: MP Materials)
MP Materials asserts that the new U.S.-based rare earth supply chain it is developing will be a “zero discharge” facility, recycling all water used on-site and disposing of dry waste in lined landfills. That will make it a far more environmentally sustainable than its counterparts in Asia, where rare earth mining and processing have led to severe pollution and ecological damage. The company says it is making progress. MP Materials’ Sloustcher pointed California Curated to a Life Cycle Assessment (LCA) study published in the American Chemical Society which “found that NdFeB magnets produced from Mountain Pass ore have about one-third the environmental footprint of those from Bayan Obo, China’s largest rare earth mine.”
“With record-setting upstream and midstream production at Mountain Pass and both metal and magnet production underway at Independence , we have reached a significant turning point for MP and U.S. competitiveness in a vital sector,” said James Litinsky, Founder, Chairman, and CEO of MP Materials in a company release.
Interior view of the Water Treatment Plant at the MP Materials mine and ore processing site in Mountain Pass, CA. (Courtesy: MP Materials)
MP Materials has also partnered with General Motors to produce rare earth magnets for electric vehicles, signaling its commitment to integrating domestic production into key industries. The push for domestic EV production is not just about economic security but also about environmental sustainability, as reducing the carbon footprint of mining, processing, and transportation aligns with the broader goal of clean energy independence.
The resurgence of the Mountain Pass mine aligns with a broader initiative by the U.S. government to secure domestic supplies of critical minerals. Recognizing Mountain Pass as a strategic asset, the Department of Defense awarded MP Materials a $35 million contract in February 2022 to design and build a facility for processing heavy rare earth elements at the mine’s California site Additionally, the Department of Energy has been actively supporting projects to strengthen the domestic supply chain for critical minerals, including rare earth elements, through various funding initiatives.
Mountain Pass’s operations, however, highlight the challenges inherent in mining rare earths. The extraction process involves significant environmental risks, particularly in managing wastewater and tailings ponds. MP Materials claims to prioritize sustainable practices, yet its long-term ability to minimize environmental impact while scaling production remains under scrutiny. The mine’s bastnaesite ore, with rare earth concentrations of 7–8%, is among the richest globally, making it economically competitive. Still, as mentioned above, processing bastnaesite to isolate pure rare earth elements involves complex chemical treatments, underscoring why global production remains concentrated in a few countries.
Overhead view of the Crusher at the MP Materials mine and ore processing site in Mountain Pass, CA. (Courtesy: MP Materials)
Today, Mountain Pass is not only a critical supplier but also a symbol of U.S. efforts to reduce dependency on Chinese rare earth exports as well as other minerals such as lithium and copper vital to a transition to clean energy technology. As demand for REEs surges with advancements in green energy and technology, the increasing mine’s output supports the production of permanent magnets used in electric motors, wind turbines, and countless other applications. This resurgence in domestic rare earth production offers hope for a revitalized U.S.-based supply chain, reducing dependence on foreign sources and ensuring a more stable, sustainable future for critical mineral access.
However, significant obstacles remain, including the environmental challenges of mining, the high costs of refining and processing, and the need to develop advanced manufacturing infrastructure. Overcoming these barriers will require coordinated efforts from industry, government, and researchers to make domestic production both economically viable and environmentally responsible, ensuring a truly climate-friendly future. With the global race for critical minerals intensifying, MP Materials’ success demonstrates the potential—and challenges—of revitalizing domestic mining infrastructure in an era of heightened resource competition.
As the world pivots toward renewable energy sources, the challenge of energy storage looms ever larger. The sun doesn’t always shine, and the wind doesn’t always blow — but the demand for electricity never stops. Currently, natural gas and coal are the primary ways we generate electricity. These are dirty, pollution-causing industries that will need to be phased out if we are to tackle the problems associated with climate change. Many different solutions to this problem are currently being investigated across the country and the world.
For example, the Gemini Solar + Battery Storage Project, located about 30 miles northeast of Las Vegas, is one of the largest solar battery facilities in the United States, launched in 2023. Spanning approximately 5,000 acres, it combines a 690-megawatt solar photovoltaic array with a 380-megawatt battery storage system, capable of powering about 50,000 homes and providing 10% of Nevada’s peak energy demand. By storing solar energy in massive batteries, the facility ensures a stable and reliable power supply even after the sun sets, addressing the intermittency challenges of renewable energy.
The Gemini Solar + Storage (“Gemini”) project in Clark County, Nevada is now fully operational. It uses lithium ion batteries from China to store solar power (Gemini Solar + Storage)
However, these facilities face significant challenges due to the inherent explosive potential of lithium batteries. The Moss Landing battery facility fire serves as a stark reminder of the challenges associated with large-scale energy storage. Housing one of the world’s largest lithium-ion battery systems, the facility experienced multiple fire incidents, raising concerns about the safety of these technologies. These fires were particularly alarming due to the potential for thermal runaway, a phenomenon where a single battery cell’s failure triggers a chain reaction in neighboring cells, leading to uncontrollable fires and explosions. While no injuries were reported, the incidents caused significant operational disruptions and prompted widespread scrutiny of fire safety protocols in energy storage systems. Investigations have pointed to the need for more robust cooling mechanisms, advanced monitoring systems, and comprehensive emergency response strategies to prevent similar events in the future.
Aside from the potential fire dangers of large battery facilities, building large-scale solar battery projects like Gemini is costly, often exceeding hundreds of millions of dollars, due to the expense of new lithium-ion batteries. A more sustainable and economical solution could involve repurposing old batteries, such as those from retired electric vehicles. These batteries, while unsuitable for cars, still retain enough capacity for energy storage, reducing costs, resource use, and electronic waste.
That’s where B2U Storage Solutions, a California-based company founded by Freeman Hall and Mike Stern, offers an innovative answer to this critical problem. By harnessing the power of old electric vehicle (EV) batteries to store renewable energy, B2U is giving these aging batteries a productive second life and helping enhance the viability of green energy grids. The effort could pave the way for not only improving solar storage but also reusing old batteries that might otherwise end up in landfills or pose environmental hazards.
According to Vincent Beiser in his wonderful new book Power Metal: The Race for the Resources That Will Shape the Future, “by 2030, used electric car batteries could store as much as two hundred gigawatt-hours of power per year. That’s enough to power almost two million Nissan Leafs.”
Founded in 2019, B2U emerged as a spin-off from Solar Electric Solutions (SES), a solar energy development company with a strong track record of success, having developed 100 megawatts across 11 projects in California since 2008. Freeman Hall, a seasoned renewable energy strategist, and Mike Stern, a veteran in solar project development, combined their expertise to address a growing challenge: how to create affordable and sustainable energy storage.
Leveraging their knowledge, B2U developed their patented EV Pack Storage (EPS) technology. This technology allows for the integration of second-life EV batteries without the need for costly repurposing, making large-scale energy storage more economically feasible. Their vision took shape in Lancaster, California, where they established the SEPV Sierra facility in 2020.
At the Lancaster site, B2U uses over 1,300 repurposed EV batteries to form a large-scale battery energy storage system (BESS). When solar farms generate more electricity than the grid can immediately use, the excess power is stored in these second-life batteries. Later, when the sun sets or demand peaks, that stored energy is released back into the grid. This process reduces waste and helps stabilize renewable energy supply.
B2U is not alone. The second-life market for EV batteries is projected to grow to $7 billion by 2033, according to a March report by market research firm IDTechEx. While most EVs rely on lithium-ion batteries, these typically lose viability for vehicle use after about eight to ten years. However, depending on their remaining capacity and “state of health”—a measure of cell aging—they can be repurposed for less demanding applications, such as stationary energy storage, the report notes.
B2U Storage Solutions has launched its second hybrid battery storage facility near New Cuyama in Santa Barbara County, California. This innovative project uses approximately 600 repurposed electric vehicle batteries, primarily from Honda Clarity models, to provide 12 megawatt-hours of storage capacity. Charged by a 1.5-megawatt solar array and supplemental grid power, the facility supplies electricity and grid services to the California energy market. By employing patented technology, the system integrates second-life EV batteries in their original casings, reducing costs and enhancing sustainability. Building on the success of its first facility in Lancaster, this project demonstrates a scalable approach to energy storage while minimizing electronic waste and supporting renewable energy adoption.
2015 Honda Clarity FCV (Wikipedia)
B2U claims its technology enables batteries to be repurposed in a nearly “plug-and-play” manner, eliminating the need for disassembly. The system is compatible with units from multiple manufacturers, including Honda, Nissan, Tesla, GM, and Ford, allowing them to be seamlessly integrated into a single storage system.
Renewable energy is essential to combating climate change, but its intermittent nature poses challenges for maintaining a reliable power grid. Without effective storage, surplus renewable power generated during peak periods is wasted, and fossil fuels must often be burned to cover shortfalls. By using second-life EV batteries, B2U provides a sustainable, cost-effective solution to this problem.
Freeman Hall and Mike Stern’s innovative approach at B2U addresses the pressing need for affordable energy storage while giving EV batteries a second life. Their Lancaster facility and the one in New Cuyama demonstrate how smart storage solutions can make renewable power more reliable and accessible. By extending the lifecycle of EV batteries and supporting a resilient energy grid, B2U is at the forefront of sustainable energy innovation.
As California works toward ambitious renewable energy goals and the world increasingly embraces electric vehicles, companies like B2U could play a crucial role in shaping a cleaner, more sustainable future.
