The Colorado River is life. The nation’s fifth largest river is a 1,450-mile serpentine life giver to parts of seven U.S. states and two Mexican states. It originates in the high country of Colorado and drains into the Gulf of Mexico. But before it disappears into the Gulf, it provides nourishment, recreation, comfort and security to one of the fastest growing regions of the country.
While the river has been a blessing for generations and provided a bounty for so many—an estimated forty million people–it has also become one of the symbols of climate change. The river’s flow has, over a period of years, gone from an abundance to a trickle, a condition it was in only very recently. But last winter’s bonanza of snowfall and runoff has replenished it for now.
To ensure that an enduring drought does not leave the river on life-support, three states agreed in May to hold back on the amount of water they take from it. Arizona, California and Nevada have committed to taking less water from the river—an unprecedented move—to ensure it doesn’t fall so low that it would threaten water supplies for booming populations in Las Vegas, Phoenix and Tucson. Also, by reducing their water use, the agreement provides protection to each state’s agriculture.
In exchange for giving up what they would normally be taken from the river, the federal government will pay the states irrigation districts an estimated $1.2 billion. The money will go to cities and Native American tribes in the three states. The states have also signed on to taking less water beyond the terms of the agreement to protect the long-term health of the river.
The plan, said Kathryn Sorensen, Director of Research at Arizona State University’s Kyl Center for Water Policy, protects agriculture which is essential for meeting the nation’s food supply each winter. “Agriculture uses 70-80 percent of (Arizona’s) Colorado River water,” she said. “The farmers in western Arizona and Indian tribes have senior water rights…I don’t think they’re going anywhere.”
Two prime sources of water for the West are Lake Powell in Arizona and Lake Mead in Nevada. The latter, which supplies water to 25 million people, had recently dropped to its lowest point since it was officially dedicated in 1935. It was last at its highest levels in 1999 but a historic drought had brought it to a new low of 1,040 feet. Without last winter’s near record snowfall, scientists predicted it could drop as low as 900 feet, a level scientists call ‘dead pool’ and a point too low to allow water to flow past the dam.
While forecasting weather cycles has become more accurate, it is not entirely predictable. Still, the recent drought lingering over the southwest is relatively mild compared to what scientists call The Great Drought, one that began in 1276 and lasted through 1299. The lack of moisture affected a swath of land stretching from Oregon to California and east all the way to Texas. It caused entire civilizations to completely abandon their lands.
No one expects a repeat of that weather anomaly, but neither is there consensus about the river’s long-term health. “Some people have ‘the glass is half full,’” mindset, said Professor Tom Cech, and “feel things are fixable.” Cech is Founding Director of the One World, One Water Center, a Metropolitan State University-Denver/Denver Botanic Gardens collaboration. Others who have studied droughts, said Cech, “may be more skeptical.” And then there is that group that thinks “things can be engineered’ to fix problems…but doesn’t take into account societal val- ues which may far outweigh the benefits of an engineered solution.”
Cech thinks the agreement between the three states and the federal government to reduce their water intake from the river is a good first step but will not solve a peren- nial problem. “If you pay people not to farm, that’s one way to cut back. But these people need to make a living.”
Las Vegas, a city whose well being is absolutely dependent on the Colorado River, is in a population explosion. The 1980 census recorded its population at 164,000. Today it is nearly 642,000. Phoenix, another southwestern boomtown dependent on the Colorado River, tripled in size during the same period, growing from 1.5 million to 4.7 million today.
To reduce water consumption, a number of cities have legislated landscaping ordinances that prohibit lawns and non-native flora, including trees. Nevada only recently passed a statewide ban on grass lawns while mandating their removal where they now exist. The law says that the only turf that can remain must have a functional purpose, like playing fields or grass in cemeteries. But for the next four years—the law does not take effect until 2027—the desert city will remain essentially the same.
When Nevada’s new water conservation policy takes effect, it is estimated that 4,000 acres of grass will be gone resulting in a savings of close to 10 billion gallons of water each year.
Nevada’s law on turf for aesthetic reasons comes decades after cities like Tucson enacted prohibitions on ‘greening the desert.’ But currently there is no move in Colorado, another high desert state, to follow suit, said Cech, who also serves on the Fort Collins city council. “There’s politics,” he said. “Hard and fast edicts don’t play well in a lot of places.”
One hope Cech has for bending the curve on water usage lies with a constituency that is still years away from casting its first vote. “There needs to be a way to work with college students, younger kids about the water in Colorado.” If they can learn the finite quality of water, he said, it may “change their views related to the environment.”
