To tackle groundwater overuse, #Nevada takes new approach: buying back farmers’ rights: The state plans to issue $25 million in grants to retire #groundwater rights in places where use exceeds what is sustainable — The Nevada Independent

Fields in the Humboldt River Basin in Lovelock on Oct. 3, 2023. (David Calvert/The Nevada Independent)

Click the link to read the article on Nevada’s only statewide nonprofit newsroom The Nevada Independent website (Daniel Rothberg):

The Pershing County Water Conservation District’s headquarters in Lovelock sits off Interstate 80 a few miles before the Humboldt River disappears into a desert sink. Farmers here have priority rights to water in times of drought, according to the laws that govern the Humboldt River, which rises in northeastern Nevada and cuts a meandering blue line through valleys of sagebrush.

But despite their high-priority rights, these irrigators face shortage after shortage.

In three of the past 20 years, Lovelock farmers received no water from the river. In nine of those years, they received less than 50 percent of their allocations, according to a presentation the water district gave to state lawmakers in May. For some farmers, it meant no crops that year. Lovelock is a town of about 2,000 and the consequences were felt across the local economy.

Recent droughts have hit the Humboldt River hard, yet drought alone is not to blame. Officials with the district point to another factor that’s depleting the river’s flows: groundwater extraction. 

As is true across Nevada and the West, groundwater and surface water — rivers, streams and springs — can act as one interconnected supply. In certain parts of the Humboldt Basin, thirsty wells intercept water that would have otherwise flowed into the river, according to the U.S. Geological Survey, which is working to model and quantify how underground pumping captures surface water. 

All the while, farmers downstream are getting less water. Ryan Collins, the general manager of the water district, said that the pumps have stayed on, even in years of drought and in places where groundwater use exceeds what is considered sustainable. 

When the district’s water allocations are cut to zero, “they’re still getting their full allocation,” Collins said.

Ryan Collins, manager of the Pershing County Water Conservation District in Lovelock on Oct. 3, 2023. (David Calvert/The Nevada Independent)

Since the mid-1900s, extensive groundwater pumping has become stitched into the Northern Nevada economy. It’s the backbone of vast upstream agricultural fields, drinking water supplies and the massive gold mines along I-80. State water regulators have long struggled to keep pumping in check.

The problem extends beyond the Humboldt River watershed. Groundwater stretched far beyond its limits is a nationwide issue, causing the ground to sink in some places, springs to disappear in others and river tributaries to run drier than usual. 

After prodding, lawsuits and rulings (many of which have generated more litigation), the state is trying to do something about the issue of groundwater depletion in the Humboldt and elsewhere, from the Walker River Basin to central Nevada. Exactly how to curtail groundwater pumping has proven to be a headache. Regulatory rules are often contested, and the law is far from settled.

Now, armed with $25 million in federal funds, the state is trying a different tack: Pay irrigators to voluntarily cut back.

Following a handful of other states, Nevada officials are now looking to fund entities that want to facilitate the buyback and retirement of state-issued water rights. Where there is simply not enough water to go around, policymakers want to take water allotments off the balance sheets.

Six entities, from the Southern Nevada Water Authority to the Nevada Land Trust, applied to the state program earlier this month, requesting a total of just over $65 million in funding. 

An advisory committee plans to review the applications and provide feedback to the state’s natural resources agency and Conserve Nevada, which is responsible for allocating the grants. The state expects to issue the grants shortly after the advisory board meets Oct. 26.

The grant applications exceed the funding budget by $40 million, demonstrating the high interest in addressing groundwater overuse across the state. In Southern Nevada, the water authority and Clark County are looking for $18 million to address water rights involved in the Lower White River Flow System, which feeds the Muddy River, a tributary to the Colorado River. The area is the subject of a contentious groundwater dispute before the Nevada Supreme Court.

What happens next is being closely watched by water users in overextended aquifers. Many water managers see the program as a test for a permanent buyback program.

EntityProject NameFunds Requested
Central Nevada Regional Water AuthorityWater Right Retirement Program$15,000,000.00
Nevada Land TrustForest Legacy Eastern Sierra$950,000.00
Humboldt River Basin Water AuthorityWater Right Retirement Program$10,000,000.00
Nevada Land TrustCarson River – Ricci Ranch$3,091,500.00
Walker Basin ConservancyWalker Groundwater Retirement$15,292,570.00
Southern Nevada Water AuthorityLWRFS Water Rights Retirement$3,000,000.00
Nevada Land TrustRed Rock Water Retirement$3,150,000.00
Clark County Desert Conservation ProgramMuddy River Acquisition$15,000,000.00
Grant requests totaled more than $65 million. (Source: Department of Conservation and Natural Resources)

“This is an opportunity to demonstrate that it’s an effective tool for addressing water shortages in the state,” said Jeff Fontaine, who submitted applications on behalf of the Humboldt River Basin Water Authority and Central Nevada Regional Water Authority, two organizations that he leads. 

“We’re looking at the long-term here,” he added. 

The concept of using public funds to retire water rights is not new. Colorado, Kansas and Oregon have set up similar programs. Such buyback programs are meant to provide financial incentives to willing sellers, what Sen. Pete Goicoechea (R-Eureka) has referred to as a “soft landing” for irrigators in areas where groundwater tables are dropping.

When lawmakers met in Carson City earlier this year, Goicoechea introduced legislation to create a permanent water buyback program. It received little formal opposition and backing from a coalition of agricultural and environmental interests. Even though legislators failed to advance the proposal, the state was able to fund a temporary program using $25 million in conservation funds, allocated to Nevada as part of the federal American Rescue Plan. 

“There’s probably a number of different scenarios” that would motivate an agricultural user to participate in a program, according to Doug Busselman, who leads the Nevada Farm Bureau. 

One scenario could be a farmer close to retirement, looking to cash out as they wind down their operation. Another might be someone who sees an opportunity to continue farming with less water. Another reason looming in the background: state action. If the water rights are at risk of being cut-off as state regulators crack down on overuse, irrigators might be willing to sell now. 

Photo from the Smith Valley, Walker River, Yerington area with a focus on the Anaconda copper mine site taken on Thursday, Aug. 15, 2019. (David Calvert/The Nevada Independent)
Infrastructure associated with a groundwater well in the Lower White River Flow System on Aug. 13, 2020. (Jeff Scheid/The Nevada Independent)

The federal funding is a one-time allocation, and even supporters acknowledge that $25 million is not enough to fix the larger problem. State officials are going to have to make difficult choices about how to prioritize the limited funding. Still, Peter Stanton, executive director of the Walker Basin Conservancy, said the program could ease some pressures groundwater overuse puts on a watershed. 

“I see this largely as a demonstration program,” Stanton said . “It’s going to take more work like this — with local solution, state support and probably bringing in federal support — to make long-term movement on the withdrawal [of water] within these groundwater basins.”

Walker Lake, Nevada, with sign in lower-right showing lake elevation in 1908. By Raquel Baranow – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=28993516

The goal of the conservancy is to secure water to restore Walker Lake, and addressing groundwater overuse is a part of those efforts. The Walker River starts in the eastern Sierra and flows through the Nevada communities of Smith Valley, Yerington and Schurz, until it reaches Walker Lake. Once a critical habitat for birds and a tourist draw for Mineral County, the lake has shrunk to a fraction of its former size due to agricultural diversions.

Over time, groundwater withdrawals have depleted water stored underground and affected the river’s efficiency. That could make it harder to move water downstream in the future.

“We want to work with farmers and ranchers who are already at points of transition [and] are facing increased pressure — whether we’re talking about economic development or climatic variation and challenges in farming — to identify willing sellers” of groundwater, Stanton said. 

Several other conservation groups have backed the concept of water buybacks.

If the pilot program is well-executed, the Nature Conservancy’s Laurel Saito said she sees an opportunity to develop a permanent and long-term program in the state. Saito, the group’s water strategy director for Nevada, has advocated for a program that considers ecosystems naturally dependent on the way groundwater interacts with wetlands, springs, playas, rivers and streams. 

“If it’s done right, it could be a stepping stone,” she said.

There are many ways in which future programs could address overuse while prioritizing ecosystem restoration. Oregon’s program in the Harney Basin, just north of the Nevada border, includes incentives for retiring water rights that affect groundwater-dependent ecosystems — a structure she said that the nonprofit could potentially help seek funding for in Nevada. 

In this pilot phase, though, those larger conversations are constrained by a key factor: time.

With limits on federal funding, the $25 million must be spent on a tight turnaround. The state is aiming to have seller contracts in place for the transfer of water rights by next fall. 

One year might sound like a lot of time, yet in the world of water rights, that deadline is already fast-approaching. Once awarded the grant, entities will have to work on developing a price for the water. They will also have to conduct outreach to get the word out that a program is in place. Then they will have to prioritize how to divide up funds.

Figuring out the value of water can be extremely hard, said Fontaine, whose organizations have looked to what other states have done and have worked with a consulting group to model prices.

“That’s the tricky part here,” Fontaine said. “We have to be good stewards of these dollars … We need to make sure we’re not overvaluing the water and paying more than they’re really worth. On the other hand, we want to be fair and respectful to those who are considering selling their water rights — and purchase water rights so we can make a difference in these basins.”

In recent years, state and federal agencies have often looked to publicly funded conservation as a way to address water shortages in the West, particularly in the Colorado River Basin. Many of these programs have implemented temporary conservation measures, such as paying irrigators to fallow their land or to improve farming efficiency when drought conditions were most severe.

What makes buyback programs different is that they are permanent cutbacks to supply in places where there is a structural imbalance, with more rights to water than there is water to go around. 

Low-elevation sprinklers irrigate a field in Diamond Valley in August 2020. Under a management plan, farmers in the valley are required to cut use. (Daniel Rothberg/The Nevada Independent)
Springs on the north side of Diamond Valley on Aug. 26, 2020. The state allowed for pumping water to offset losses to the spring’s natural flow. (Daniel Rothberg/The Nevada Independent)

Taking water rights off the books, Goicoechea said earlier this year, is “better than just ignoring it and looking the other way, and that’s what we’ve kind of been doing over the last 40 years.”

In many places, state and federal officials allowed for excessive water use by issuing rights that exceeded the supply and incentivizing farmers to move to areas where water was scarce. Even when the issue was identified, state regulators sometimes turned a blind eye, deferring action. 

This was particularly pronounced in Diamond Valley outside of Eureka. In 2015, Diamond Valley was designated the state’s first critical management area, and irrigators had to come up with a plan to cut back. Some are eyeing the buyback program as one way to get there.

“They see this as an opportunity to reduce some of the conflict, where the state buys back the water and they are out of the game,” said Jake Tibbitts, who serves as the natural resources manager for Eureka County. “But it’s all going to come down to the dollars and cents.”

Some groundwater users in Diamond Valley are waiting to see what price the buyback program offers and have voiced different opinions about what their water rights are worth. Tibbitts noted that there’s also “concern from quite a few of the agricultural water rights holders about establishing a value for water outside of a typical real estate transaction.”

As for the Humboldt River, the Pershing County Water Conservation District has backed water buyback programs as one potential solution for reducing groundwater use.

During the drought, the district petitioned the state to regulate upstream groundwater overuse, linked to diminishing streamflow in the Humboldt River. But it has also continued to pursue its case through the courts, said Collins, the district’s general manager.

Sitting at a conference room table in the district’s office building — filled with old maps and a bulletin board displaying the ever-important amount of water held in upstream reservoirs — he was hopeful that the buyback program could be one part of the solution.

“It can be a piece of the puzzle,” he said. “But it’s not the silver bullet.”

Union Canal in Lovelock on Oct. 3, 2023. (David Calvert/The Nevada Independent)
Map of Nevada’s major rivers and streams via Geology.com.

2023 is shaping up to be hottest year on record, after extraordinary temperatures since June (and ahead of peak of warming #ElNiño) — World Meteorological Organization

What the extreme fire seasons of 1910 and 2020 – and 2,500 years of forest history – tell us about the future of wildfires in the West

Rocky Mountain fires leave telltale ash layers in nearby lakes like this one. Philip Higuera

Kyra Clark-Wolf, University of Colorado Boulder and Philip Higuera, University of Montana

Strong winds blew across mountain slopes after a record-setting warm, dry summer. Small fires began to blow up into huge conflagrations. Towns in crisis scrambled to escape as fires bore down.

This could describe any number of recent events, in places as disparate as Colorado, California, Canada and Hawaii. But this fire disaster happened over 110 years ago in the Northern Rocky Mountains of Idaho and Montana.

The “Big Burn” of 1910 still holds the record for the largest fire season in the Northern Rockies. Hundreds of fires burned over 3 million acres – roughly the size of Connecticut – most in just two days. The fires destroyed towns, killed 86 people and galvanized public policies committed to putting out every fire.

A black and white photo from 1910 shows rail lines and the burned shells of buildings
Many residents of Wallace, Idaho, fled on trains ahead of the 1910 blaze. Volunteers who stayed saved part of the town, but about a third of it burned. R.H. McKay/U.S. Forest Service archive, CC BY

Today, as the climate warms, fire seasons like in 1910 are becoming more likely. The 2020 fire season was an example. But are extreme fire seasons like these really that unusual in the context of history? And, when fire activity begins to surpass anything experienced in thousands of years – as research suggests is happening in the Southern Rockies – what will happen to the forests?

As paleoecologists, we study how and why ecosystems changed in the past. In a multiyear project, highlighted in two new publications, we tracked how often forest fires occurred in high-elevation forests in the Rocky Mountains over the past 2,500 years, how those fires varied with the climate and how they affected ecosystems. This long view provides both hopeful and concerning lessons for making sense of today’s extreme fire events and impacts on forests.

Lakes record history going back millennia

When a high-elevation forest burns, fires consume tree needles and small branches, killing most trees and lofting charcoal in the air. Some of that charcoal lands on lakes and sinks to the bottom, where it is preserved in layers as sediment accumulates.

After the fire, trees regrow and also leave evidence of their existence in the form of pollen grains that fall on the lake and sink to the bottom.

By extracting a tube of those lake sediments, like a straw pushed into a layer cake from above, we were able to measure the amounts of charcoal and pollen in each layer and reconstruct the history of fire and forest recovery around a dozen lakes across the footprint of the 1910 fires.

A woman sitting an inflatable boat, wearing a life jacket, holds a long tube filed with lake bottom sediment.
Author Kyra Clark-Wolf holds a sediment core pulled from a lake containing evidence of fires over thousands of years. Philip Higuera
Long tubes of lake floor sediment are opened on a table.
Researchers at the University of Montana examine a sediment core from a high-elevation lake in the Rocky Mountains. Each core is sliced into half-centimeter sections, reflecting around 10 years each, and variations in charcoal within the core are used to reconstruct a timeline of past wildfires. University of Montana

Lessons from Rockies’ long history with fire

The lake sediments revealed that high-elevation, or subalpine, forests in the Northern Rockies in Montana and Idaho have consistently bounced back after fires, even during periods of drier climate and more frequent burning than we saw in the 20th century.

High-elevation forests only burn about once every 100 to 250 or more years on average. We found that the amount of burning in subalpine forests of the Northern Rockies over the 20th and 21st centuries remained within the bounds of what those forests experienced over the previous 2,500 years. Even today, the Northern Rockies show resilience to wildfires, including early signs of recovery after extensive fires in 2017.

Three illustrated charts show forest density increasing and time between fires falling over the past 4,800 years at one location.
Long-term changes in climate, forest density and fire frequency over the past 4,800 years in one high-elevation forest in the Northern Rockies, reconstructed from lake sediments. The red dots reflect timing of past fires. Kyra Clark-Wolf

But similar research in high-elevation forests of the Southern Rockies in Colorado and Wyoming tells a different story.

The record-setting 2020 fire season, with three of Colorado’s largest fires, helped push the rate of burning in high-elevation forests in Colorado and Wyoming into uncharted territory relative to the past 2,000 years.

Climate change is also having bigger impacts on whether and how forests recover after wildfires in warmer, drier regions of the West, including the Southern Rockies, the Southwest and California. When fires are followed by especially warm, dry summers, seedlings can’t establish and forests struggle to regenerate. In some places, shrubby or grassy vegetation replace trees altogether.

Graphs show fire activity rising with temperature over time.
Fire history reconstructions from 20 high-elevation lakes in the Southern Rockies show that historically, fires burned every 230 years on average. That has increased significantly in the 21st century. Philip Higuera, CC BY-ND

Changes happening now in the Southern Rockies could serve as an early warning for what to expect further down the road in the Northern Rockies.

Warmer climate, greater fire activity, higher risks

Looking back thousands of years, it’s hard to ignore the consistent links between the climate and the prevalence of wildfires.

Warmer, drier springs and summers load the dice to make extensive fire seasons more likely. This was the case in 1910 in the Northern Rockies and in 2020 in the Southern Rockies.

When, where and how climate change will push the rate of burning in the rest of the Rockies into uncharted territory is harder to anticipate. The difference between 1910 and 2020 was that 1910 was followed by decades with low fire activity, whereas 2020 was part of an overall trend of increasing fire activity linked with global warming. Just one fire like 1910’s Big Burn in the coming decades, in the context of 21st-century fire activity, would push the Northern Rockies beyond any known records.

A tiny pine seedling in a vast landscape of burned trees and soil.
A lodgepole pine tree seedling begins to grow one year after the October 2020 East Troublesome Fire in Rocky Mountain National Park. Recovery in high-elevation forests takes decades. Philip Higuera

Lessons from the long view

The clock is ticking.

Extreme wildfires will become more and more likely as the climate warms, and it will be harder for forests to recover. Human activity is also raising the risk of fires starting.

The Big Burn of 1910 left a lasting impression because of the devastating impacts on lives and homes and, as in the 2020 fire season and many other recent fire disasters, because of the role humans played in igniting them.

Photo shows burned trees across miles of hillsides along a railroad line
The aftermath of the 1910 fire near the North Fork of the St. Joe River in the Coeur d’Alene National Forest, Idaho. R.H. McCoy/U.S. Forest Service archive, CC BY

Accidental ignitions – from downed power lines, escaped campfires, dragging chains, railroads – expand when and where fires occur, and they lead to the majority of homes lost to fires. The fire that destroyed Lahaina, Hawaii, is the most recent example.

So what can we do?

Curbing greenhouse gas emissions from vehicles, power plants and other sources can help slow warming and the impacts of climate change on wildfires, ecosystems and communities. Forest thinning and prescribed burns can alter how forests burn, protecting humans and minimizing the most severe ecological impacts.

Reframing the challenge of living with wildfire – building with fire-resistant materials, reducing accidental ignitions and increasing preparedness for extreme events – can help minimize damage while maintaining the critical role that fires have played in forests across the Rocky Mountains for millennia.

Kyra Clark-Wolf, Postdoctoral Associate in Ecology, University of Colorado Boulder and Philip Higuera, Professor of Fire Ecology, University of Montana

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.