How a Quiet Finger Lakes Town Became Ground Zero in a National Energy Battle #CriptoNews

In the rolling hills of New York’s Finger Lakes — a region famed for its wineries, trout streams, and eco-tourism — an old power plant is at the center of a new and troubling trend. At first glance, the Greenidge Generation facility in Dresden, NY may seem like a relic of the past. But it now plays a leading role in the fast-growing, poorly understood world of cryptocurrency mining.

Once a coal-burning power plant, Greenidge was converted to natural gas and reactivated — not to meet local energy needs, but to fuel a behind-the-scenes Bitcoin mining operation. What has followed is a cautionary tale of regulatory loopholes, environmental risk, and a digital gold rush that may cost us far more than we realize.

Bitcoin, the world’s most popular cryptocurrency, depends on a decentralized process called “mining,” in which powerful computers solve mathematical puzzles to validate transactions. This process is essential to the Bitcoin network — and also fantastically energy-intensive. The financial rewards are high: one block of Bitcoin, currently valued in the six-figure range, is enough to keep operators racing for the next.

But the race is burning more than just electricity. Bitcoin mining in the U.S. now accounts for up to 2.3% of national energy use, costing Americans upwards of $1 billion in higher energy bills annually. And in places like Dresden, NY, the community pays the price in water, air quality, and environmental peace of mind.

Greenidge Generation is not a typical Bitcoin mine — and that’s part of what makes it so dangerous. While many crypto operations simply purchase energy from the grid, Greenidge generates its ownoperating as a full-scale power plant whose sole reason for running near full capacity is to power computers that mine Bitcoin.

As Bill Roege, President of the Seneca Lake Pure Waters Association, explains:

“Greenidge is a legacy plant that isn’t required to update critical environmental features, like a cooling tower. It discharges heated water into the Keuka Outlet and Seneca Lake — a trout stream and a vital local ecosystem. This would never be permitted if it were a new plant.”

Even more troubling, the Bitcoin operation benefits from a “behind-the-meter” rate — a discounted electricity price that makes mining profitable, but only because Greenidge sells power to itself at a rate the rest of us don’t get.

“If Greenidge had to pay what you and I pay for electricity, the Bitcoin operation wouldn’t exist,” Roege adds.

This arrangement allows Greenidge to operate at close to 100% capacity, when it would otherwise run sporadically as a backup “peaker” plant. The result is increased air pollution, higher local temperatures in natural waterways, and ongoing risks from legacy issues — including an unremediated coal ash dump just across the highway.

Greenidge’s environmental toll is twofold: water and air. The plant uses massive amounts of lake water for cooling, then releases it back, warmer than before — a clear threat to trout populations and aquatic biodiversity. For years, the plant fought basic compliance measures like installing fish screens, finally conceding only under pressure from environmental groups and the DEC.

Despite operating under state permits, Greenidge has resisted calls for a thermal impact study, which would measure how far and how deeply this heat affects Keuka Outlet and Seneca Lake.

Meanwhile, air emissions from near-constant operation exceed what the plant’s power generation permit allows — and yet continue unabated. As Roege notes, “While the plant pays for fuel and wages, it uses local water and air for free — and returns neither in the condition it found them.”

Despite the industrial-scale power draw, the economic benefits to Dresden and surrounding communities are minimal. Greenidge has created only a few local jobs through its Bitcoin venture, and offers limited contributions to local taxes. The company has donated some equipment to the local fire department and town office — gestures that, while appreciated, pale in comparison to the environmental and social costs.

Roege is Frank in his personal Assessment:

“Bitcoin, in my view, has no social value. It’s a speculative venture — like gambling — that drains real resources for imaginary rewards. These resources could be powering schools, hospitals, or clean industries instead.”

He adds that when Bitcoin drives up demand for renewable energy technologies — like solar panels — it can actually increase costs for everyone else, making the clean energy transition hardernot easier.

Greenidge is not alone. Across the country, old fossil fuel plants are being resurrected not to serve the public, but to serve private digital interests. States with cheap power and loose regulations are especially vulnerable. And as President Trump continues to formulate a “strategic Bitcoin reserve” and national crypto stockpile, watchdogs like the National Coalition Against Cryptomining (NCAC) are sounding the alarm.

“The unchecked expansion of Bitcoin mining must be met with scrutiny,” the NCAC warns. “The push to make the U.S. the ‘crypto capital of the world’ comes at unacceptable cost to everyday Americans.”

It’s a refrain echoed in Dresden and beyond: communities are asked to give up their clean air, water, and peace for an industry that gives little in return.

At its heart, the Greenidge story isn’t just about one power plant or one technology. It’s about how we define progress — and who pays for it. When speculative finance meets deregulated industry, the consequences are real, measurable, and deeply human.

The Finger Lakes region is a national treasure, not a sacrifice zone. And what happens here — in Dresden, in Seneca Lake, in Keuka Outlet — could set the tone for how America manages its energy future in the face of emerging technologies.

Because the real question isn’t whether we can mine Bitcoin.

The real question is: what are we willing to burn to get it?

George Cassidy Payne is a Rochester-based nonprofit leader, educator, and advocate for sustainable economic development. With a philosophy and social work background, George has spent over two decades addressing issues of equity, public policy, and crisis intervention. His community development and environmental sustainability expertise informs his commitment to strengthening Rochester’s regional economy.