Preparing for a drier future along the Colorado River

The Colorado River flows beside a hay field near Blythe. (Jay Calderon/The Desert Sun)

Ian James
The Desert Sun

After a 17-year run of mostly dry years, the Colorado River’s flow has decreased significantly below the 20th century average.

Lake Mead, the largest reservoir in the country, now stands just 39 percent full. The level of the reservoir behind Hoover Dam has been hovering a bit above historic lows during the past year, helped by a bigger snowpack last winter and strides in water conservation.

But with scenarios of the reservoir falling to critical lows looking very possible in the coming years, managers of water agencies in California, Arizona and Nevada have signaled their interest in finalizing a deal under which they would take less water from Lake Mead in an attempt to head off severe shortages.

It’s not clear how much longer it might take for officials at water districts in the three states to agree on the details of the proposed Drought Contingency Plan, which they’ve been discussing since 2015. But given the enormous strains on the river, the disconnect between its flow and the amounts diverted, and the growing impacts of climate change, experts say this sort of agreement seems a necessary first step toward preparing for a hotter and drier future in the Southwest.

“It’s great to have the structural deficit taken care of, and that’s frankly what the Drought Contingency Plan does is take care of that,” said Brad Udall, a water and climate scientist at Colorado State University. But if the flow of the river decreases more in the coming years — by say, more than 20 percent, for example — he said those measures won’t go far enough in “dealing with the conflict that will fall out of such declines.”

In March, Udall and fellow climate scientist Jonathan Overpeck published research in which they found that reductions in the river’s flow averaged 19 percent per year between 2000 and 2014. They estimated that somewhere between one-sixth and one-half of that loss in flow was due to higher temperatures — 0.9 degree Celsius, or 1.6 degrees Fahrenheit, above the average over the previous 94 years.

In the study, which was published in the journal Water Resources Research, they described the conditions since 2000 as a “temperature-dominated drought.”

Using climate models to estimate a business-as-usual scenario of greenhouse gas emissions, they also projected that without changes in precipitation, warming will likely cause the Colorado River’s flow to decrease by 35 percent or more this century.

“We have real challenges ahead,” Udall said. “Climate change is here now. It’s real, it’s getting increasingly worse, and the old way of doing business is not going to suffice.”

Managers of water agencies from across the West met this month at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas, near Lake Mead, for the annual meeting of the Colorado River Water Users Association. Officials from the Lower Basin states — Arizona, California and Nevada — all expressed support for having rules in place before a shortage hits.

“To a person, they all noted how important it is that we reach an agreement in the basin,” said Jennifer Pitt, the National Audubon Society's Colorado River project director, who attended the meeting.

In the long-term, Pitt said, it will be important to have policies in place to prepare for longer and more severe droughts.

“What if we had another 20 years like we just had, another 20 years of super-dry conditions? Are we prepared for that?” Pitt said. “I’d say today, we are not prepared.”

But she added that a U.S.-Mexico Colorado River deal signed in September provides a policy that’s “ready to be triggered” to help the situation. Under the accord, dubbed Minute 323, Mexico agreed to cut the amount it takes from the river alongside the U.S. states — as long as the Drought Contingency Plan is in place, and whenever the states end up shouldering reductions under that plan.

The agreement also provides for Mexico to continue storing water in Lake Mead, helping to boost the reservoir’s levels.

More than a year ago, officials representing California, Arizona and Nevada had said they were hopeful they would finalize the Drought Contingency Plan soon. But disagreements flared in Arizona, and California water districts have also had issues to work out.

One potential obstacle apparently was removed in November when California water regulators adopted an agreement that commits the state to following through on plans of building wetlands and controlling dust around the shrinking Salton Sea over the next 10 years.

The Imperial Irrigation District holds the biggest single water entitlement along the Colorado River and supplies water to farms producing crops from alfalfa to Brussels sprouts. The Salton Sea is shrinking under a water transfer deal that is sending water to growing cities in San Diego County and the Coachella Valley.

The Imperial district’s leaders had warned California officials that that they would only take part in the Colorado River deal if there is a credible “roadmap” for dealing with the decline of the Salton Sea. IID officials praised the Salton Sea agreement, indicating that their condition has now been met.

The Colorado River and its tributaries provide water for about 40 million people and more than 5 million acres of farmland from Wyoming to California.

The legal framework that divvies up the Colorado River was established during much wetter times nearly a century ago, starting with the 1922 Colorado River Compact. That and subsequent agreements have handed out more water than what flows in the river in an average year, leading to chronic overuse.

The treaties that originally divided the river among seven states and Mexico allocated 7.5 million acre-feet of water per year for states in the river’s Upper Basin, including Colorado, Wyoming, Utah and New Mexico; 7.5 million acre-feet for the Lower Basin states of Nevada, Arizona and California; and 1.5 million acre-feet for Mexico.

For decades, so much water has been diverted from dams all along the Colorado that the river seldom meets the sea. The river’s delta in Mexico has become a dusty stretch of desert.

Lake Mead is managed together with Lake Powell, on the border between Arizona and Utah, and the combined amount of water in the two reservoirs has been much smaller since the mid-2000s than in the previous two decades. While the reservoirs’ levels have retreated, heavy pumping of groundwater has also led to declining aquifers in parts of the river basin.

Yet, even as water policymakers have widely agreed that the outlook calls for changes to adapt, there have also been some significant water-saving successes, which have helped somewhat in pushing back potential shortages at Lake Mead.

John Fleck, director of the University of New Mexico’s Water Resources Program, pointed out in a blog post this month that Colorado River use in Arizona, Nevada and California is set to end the year at the lowest level since 1986.

Pitt said a key objective now will be developing approaches for maintaining the reliability of water supplies and avoiding a crash, in which Lake Mead falls so far that it triggers painful cutoffs of water deliveries.

“We have to put some policies in place to prevent those catastrophic outcomes,” Pitt said. An agreement like the proposed Drought Contingency Plan, she said, would be a step in that direction.

“A certain amount of incrementalism seems to be appropriate in this case,” Pitt said, “because dealing with this level of change in hydrologic conditions is something we don’t have a huge history of.”

There are also other challenges, Udall said, including the idea among some water officials in parts of the Upper Basin such as Utah and Colorado that “it’s OK to still go develop additional water resources in the Colorado River Basin.”

Udall pointed to Utah, where water districts are proposing to build a 140-mile pipeline — at a projected cost of between $1.1 billion and $1.8 billion — to carry water from Lake Powell to growing communities in two counties. The pipeline would transport up to 77 million gallons per day, or 86,000 acre-feet per year, to a reservoir near St. George.

“Why would you want to pour gas on the fire and use more, set up a system … that takes another 100,000 acre-feet out of the river and just digs a deeper hole for us to solve?” Udall said. “In law, they are allowed to do that. But it’s like doubling down on a bad bet and it’s just going to make the pain all the more serious if and should we have to deal with large declines in flow.”

The pipeline proposal is undergoing a review by federal regulators. Officials at the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission announced on Dec. 11 that they are starting to carry out an environmental analysis and for the next 60 days will accept comments from the public on the project.

Rejecting Nevada water deal hurts Utah, critics say

Snake Valley » Officials wonder if state’s stance could complicate proposed Lake Powell Pipeline.

Dave Baker, a third-generation Snake Valley rancher, looks at the Stateline Spring which is a critical source of water for farmers and ranchers near the towns of Baker, Nev., and Utah's Garrison and EskDale. The Utah Water Development Commission on Tuesday voted to ask Gov. Gary Herbert to reconsider his rejection of an agreement with Nevada that would equally divide the Snake Valley aquifer's water between the two states. (Brian Maffly | Tribune file photo)

By Brian Maffly
Salt Lake Tribune

When Utah Gov. Gary Herbert vetoed a water-sharing agreement forged with Nevada over Snake Valley’s groundwater, he said he was acting in response to locals’ desires and to ensure that water that flows into Utah stays in Utah.

But the governor’s move, which was hailed by both West Desert ranchers and environmentalists, could jeopardize Utah’s own aims on the Colorado River, according to critics in the water-development community. By failing to cooperate with an important neighbor, Utah could sacrifice a positive tradition of bi-state cooperation and invite trouble as it seeks to divert some of the Colorado to feed its own growing desert metropolis.

That’s according to Ron Thompson, general manager of the Washington County Water Conservancy District and an influential figure in Western water circles. He is now publicly linking Las Vegas’ interest in Snake Valley groundwater with Utah’s proposed 139-mile pipeline that would deliver nearly 100,000 acre feet from Lake Powell to Kanab and St. George.

"It’s hypocritical for us to tell Nevada not to develop a water project. Ultimately they will figure out how to do it," Thompson said. He is concerned Nevada, which has its own interest in the Colorado River, will be less inclined to support Utah’s campaign to secure water rights, regulatory approvals and rights of way needed for the Lake Powell Pipeline.

Thompson raised these concerns last week at a meeting of the State Water Development Commission. Most of the commissioners, including Thompson, voted to formally ask Herbert to reconsider his decision.

Nevada officials likewise hope an accord is still within reach, although they declined to discuss their state’s leverage on Utah water projects.

"Gov. Herbert has committed to continue to work with Nevada to identify options for addressing this issue. That said, we believe this agreement is good for both states and we would welcome reconsideration from Gov. Herbert with regard to signing it," said Leo Drozdoff, director of the Nevada Department of Natural Resources and Conservation. The Southern Nevada Water Authority, the agency proposing to pump and pipe Snake Valley water to Las Vegas, declined to comment for this story.

Meanwhile, conservationists ridiculed Thompson’s position as a self-serving gesture to protect the controversial Lake Powell Pipeline proposal, calling this project both costly and unnecessary.

"It has nothing to do with need. They are doing it so other states won’t be able to use the river," said Utah Rivers Council Executive Director Zach Frankel. "Ron Thompson is not an objective source on this. He is looking out for his agency’s interests."

Frankel, as well as local officials and business owners, contend the proposed agreement with Nevada would not truly protect Snake Valley from Las Vegas’ thirst once it begins pumping. Groundwater depletion could turn the valley into a "dust bowl," yet the agreement fails to anticipate air quality impacts, critics say.

"Pieces of paper are worthless and most often in these circumstances, are written to placate the opponents at the time only to be broken in the future," Terry Mascaro, a Baker, Nev., business owner, wrote in an open letter castigating the commission’s recent vote. "A 39-page paper document will never stop the stated destruction to us out here."

Millard County’s elected leaders oppose the agreement, reached without an opportunity for public comment, because it would promise groundwater to Nevada that they believe is not there. Once impacts from pumping become apparent it could be too late or too costly to fix the damage, they say.

But many on the water development commission question whether Utah could secure a better agreement than the one Herbert has rejected. That pact would have safeguarded the valley’s existing water users in a tiered water-sharing arrangement and featured several provisions to protect the landscape and monitor environmental changes, backers say.

"We had long indicated we would sign, then backed out at the last minute. It looks like our word is not that good. It was a strong agreement in Utah’s favor," Thompson said. "It’s a false premise that if Utah doesn’t come to an agreement, Nevada won’t be able to develop its water interest [in the Snake Valley]."

Thompson believes Nevada’s water troubles are an accident of history that began in the 1920s when the Colorado River Compact was established, allocating the Silver State a relative trickle of the mighty river’s flow. Back then, no one envisioned subdivisions, much less water-guzzling tourist amenities, blooming in the Las Vegas Valley.

Nevada’s 300,000-acre-foot annual apportionment hardly lines up with its territory’s contribution to the Colorado’s flow or its current needs, while nearly one-third of Utah’s 1.4 million-acre-foot share has gone undeveloped. (About 326,000 gallons, an acre foot of water supplies two to four households annually.)

For years, Utah and other basin states have opposed renegotiating the compact and encouraged Nevada to tap sources inside its borders.

"Utah has a long history working with all the basin states and Nevada. We have a long border and history of comity. Those [border] communities have been interrelated since they were developed," Thompson said, noting St. George’s own extensive ties to the Nevada economy.

The states are the nation’s two driest, as well as among the fastest growing, suggesting the competition for water may only get more intense. But what if Utah leased its unused share of the Colorado River to Nevada?

Conservationists say such an arrangement would make Utah money and help solve Las Vegas’ water woes without developing a destructive groundwater pumping scheme. In the mid-1990s, Utah’s then-Gov. Mike Leavitt proposed as much, but the idea did not get much traction among policy makers.

"That’s narrow-mindedness. That’s myopia," Frankel said.

Ranchers worry Utah will give in on water issue

By John Hollenhorst
KSL.com


UTAH'S WEST DESERT - A David and Goliath battle in Utah's west desert is warming up again. Ranchers standing up to the so-called "Las Vegas water grab" are raising fears Utah will give in too easily, possibly to avoid retaliation by a powerful Nevada senator.

It's pretty clear Utah officials want a friendly deal with Nevada and not a water war. The question is, how much water can Las Vegas pump along the border before it starts to hurt Utah?

This week, the federal government launches the latest round of scientific studies.

Pumping groundwater is what made the west desert bloom for generations of farmers and ranchers. They've lined up mostly against plans by Las Vegas to drill wells near the border. The big city wants to pump an aquifer that's mostly under rural Utah.

Rancher Dean Baker said, "If they take all the water they say is available, there won't be a live plant left that puts its roots in the water."

But Utah officials have been negotiating an agreement with Nevada. They say it will protect Utah's interests.

Mike Styler, Utah's director of natural resources, said, "Yes, I believe they could take some water and not affect Utah."

Even farmers 60 miles from Nevada worry the pumping could affect them. In small-town Delta, there are worries Las Vegas will set a precedent for big cities sucking away water from farms.

Delta farmer Ray Lyman said, "I think it's in the back of all of our minds as farmers."

Nevertheless, Utah officials say Las Vegas should get some of the water it wants. The question is, how much?

"Both sides have agreed that nothing will be done to harm that current use of water," Styler said.

Opponents this weekend bought full-page ads in both Salt Lake newspapers. They're clearly worried Utah has all but decided to give in. They think Utah is driven partly by the desire to protect a pet project from retaliation by Nevada Sen. Harry Reid, the proposed Lake Powell pipeline.

Dean Baker said, "A bargaining chip in the whole process. So there is a real urge to get it done."

But Mike Styler said, "In my mind that has nothing to do with this project."

The two states could finalize an agreement sometime next year. Opponents say "What's the rush? Why not hold off until the last scientific studies are done?" But Utah officials argue, any agreement can be altered if new science comes in.

Navajo water a wild card in river's future

Old rights: 1908 decision gave tribe part of the river

By Patty Henetz
The Salt Lake Tribune

The commission that created the 1922 Colorado River Compact knew that Mexico, the Navajo and other tribes had rights to the river, but when it divvied up the presumed 15 million acre-feet annual flow, it didn't define the claims.

In 1944, the United States and Mexico agreed that Mexico would get 1.5 million acre-feet per year, resetting the assumed baseline river flow at 16.5 million acre-feet. Four years later, the commission set the Upper Basin states' shares on a percentage basis rather than an absolute allocation.

Still no mention of Indian tribes, even though an 1850 treaty with the Navajo Nation, reinforced by a 1908 Supreme Court ruling, guaranteed water rights necessary for a permanent homeland.

In 2003, the Navajo Nation sued the Interior Department, seeking to force the U.S. government to, at last, quantify the tribe's rights.

Some Navajos say a strict interpretation of the treaty and the 1908 ruling in Winters v. United States shows the tribe's rights trump all others because they were affirmed before the 1922 Colorado Compact.

Navajo leaders, however, are pursuing negotiations rather than going back to the Supreme Court. That's because they realize the justices could wipe out the earlier Winters ruling.

The approach has polarized Navajos, with some alleging the tribe's attorney, Stanley Pollack, a white man, isn't fighting hard enough.

Political science professor Dan McCool, who heads the University of Utah's American West Center and has written books about Indian water rights, praises Pollack.

"What his critics don't understand is the Winters decision is just judge-made law. It's never been in statute," McCool said. "Both sides realize if they go to the Supreme Court, they could win big or they could lose big. That's why so many cities and counties and states want to negotiate with the tribe."

The Navajo Nation could claim up to 100,000 acre-feet of water in Utah and up to 800,000 acre-feet in total. That prospect should have an impact on planning for the Lake Powell Pipeline, McCool said. "Navajo claims make it even more risky."

No one believes the Navajo would use all the water to irrigate corn and potatoes in the desert. But the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation has estimated more than 30 percent of Navajos on the reservation have no plumbing.

The bureau calculated the lack of running water costs the equivalent of nearly $113 per thousand gallons because tribal members must pay to have water hauled or go to water vendors and truck it themselves.

McCool said negotiations could result in an agreement that would allow tribes to lease their rights. "Some of the people downstream and upstream are going to be paying rent to the Navajo, which actually isn't a bad idea."