The new conveyor system moved concrete across the gap where the spillway channel will be to the far side of the dam. Photo credit: Denver Water.
Click the link to read the article on The Denver Post website (Elise Schmelzer). Here’s an excerpt:
June 14, 2026
…it remains unclear whether Denver Water will ever be able to fill the reservoir to its new full capacity as a yearslong court battle lumbers on between the utility and environmentalists. Months of mediation between the parties have failed. Denver Water is now asking a federal appeals court to reverse a lower court judge’s 2025 order barring the utility from filling the expanded reservoir and ordering the yearslong federal permitting process to be redone. A panel of three judges for the 10th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals is scheduled to hear arguments in the case on July 31 in Santa Fe…
U.S. District Court Judge Christine Arguello in 2024 found that federal regulators violated environmental protection laws when they failed to properly analyze the environmental impact of the project or consider reasonable alternatives to the dam expansion that would be less harmful. She later issued the order against filling the reservoir. Environmental groups argued in court, and in their filings, that regulators failed to evaluate how siphoning more water from the drought-stricken Colorado River would impact the basin as a whole. And the groups charged that they failed to weigh other project options that wouldn’t require the clear-cutting of a half-million trees or risk damage to wetlands. The case has drawn the attention of other Front Range water providers, lawyers from across the county and the U.S. Chamber of Commerce — all of which have filed briefs in the appeals case…
While the dam structure itself is complete, at least a year of work remains to fully finish the project, Martin said. Construction crews must finish the spillway and place the final topper foot of concrete on the completed dam structure. Divers will place a gate between the reservoir’s water and the dam’s intake tubes. But the crews on site will diminish in the coming months, from up to 500 workers a day to closer to 100. On the morning of June 3, crane operators already worked to remove from the dam crest the heavy machinery that was necessary to build the main structure.
Roller-compacted concrete will be placed on top of the existing dam to raise it to a new height of 471 feet. A total of 118 new steps will make up the new dam. Image credit: Denver Water.
A rainstorm over southern Colorado. Photo: Abby Burk
Click the link to read the article on the Audubon website (Abby Burk):
May 7, 2026
Drought in Colorado isn’t abstract—it’s shaping decisions right now, from headwater streams to major reservoirs. And this year, the signals are hard to ignore. At the same time, conversations about water are tightening. There’s more concern and more sensitivity—especially around anything tied to water availability.
Snowpack across the Upper Basin has dropped to record or near-record lows. By early April, snow water equivalent in many areas fell to a fraction of normal, and snow cover reached the lowest levels observed in the satellite record. At the same time, this winter ranked among the warmest on record—reducing snow accumulation, accelerating melt, and increasing evaporative losses. These patterns are consistent with the impacts of climate change across the Colorado River Basin, where rising temperatures are diminishing snowpack reliability and reducing overall runoff efficiency.
June 1, 2026 seasonal water supply forecast summary.
Those conditions are now reflected in forecasts. Runoff across the Upper Basin watersheds is expected to be among the lowest on record, with sharply reduced inflows into Lake Powell. Meanwhile, Lake Powell and Lake Meadcontinue to sit near historic lows—leaving very little buffer in the system.
Even where spring storms have brought some relief, the underlying deficitremains. Dry soils, warm temperatures, and reduced snowpack mean less water ultimately reaches rivers.
This is not just a dry year. It’s a system under compounding stress.
Why This Matters: Ecological Drought
Ecological drought helps explain what those conditions mean on the ground.
That definition matters because it expands how we think about drought.
It’s not just about precipitation. It’s about how drought moves through a system:
From snowpack to soil moisture
From soil moisture to vegetation and habitat
From ecosystems to the services people depend on
Modern droughts are also changing. They are becoming hotter, longer, and more widespread, with impacts amplified by both climate conditions and human water use.
And those impacts don’t stay contained.
Ecological drought is fundamentally about connected systems. When ecosystems cross critical thresholds—losing wetland function, shifting vegetation, or degrading habitat—those changes feed back into water supply, with wide-ranging implications to agriculture, wildfire risk, and community stability.
What it Looks Like Right Now
In Colorado, ecological drought is showing up as a shift in timing, duration, and connectivity.
Even with recent moisture:
Peak river flows are shorter and less effective
River baseflows drop earlier
Floodplains connect less often
Wetlands and side channels dry sooner
These aren’t always dramatic changes—but they compound, especially when they occur in back-to-back years, reducing recovery time.
That’s a critical shift. Drought is no longer just episodic. It’s increasingly persistent, with ecosystems spending less time in recovery and more time under stress.
Birds Are Early Indicators
For birds, these shifts are immediate.
Migratory species depend on wetlands that function like stepping stones across the landscape. When those wetlands shrink or disappear earlier, habitat becomes compressed.
Riparian birds like the Northern Yellow Warbler and Song Sparrow rely on dense, water-supported vegetation during breeding season. Earlier drying reduces both cover and food availability.
And beneath all of this, food webs shift. Aquatic insects emerge differently under drier conditions, creating mismatches with nesting cycles.
Birds are often the first to show us what’s changing—but they’re not the only ones affected.
People Are In This System, Too
Ecological drought makes one thing clear: this is a single, connected system responding together. The same processes that shape habitat also shape outcomes for people. Soil moisture influences forage conditions for agriculture. Water timing and availability affect the reliability of community supplies. River flows support recreation and local economies, while connected floodplains help reduce risk and support recovery after disturbance.
This is what we mean by ecosystem services—the benefits people receive from functioning natural systems. When those systems are strained or begin to break down, those benefits decline as well.
What This Means for the Basin
The science is pointing to something bigger than a single dry year.
The Colorado River Basin is increasingly operating in a warmer, drier regime, where snowpack is less reliable and variability is higher. Recent conditions mirror some of the most consequential low-flow years in recent history—and they are becoming more frequent.
At the same time, current operating guidelines are set to expire, and the decisions made now will shape how the system responds to these conditions going forward.
What’s needed is a shift—from reactive, year-to-year crisis management to more durable and flexible operations; from short-term fixes to sustained investment in long-term resilience; and from fragmented efforts to stronger alignment across states, Tribes, and water users.
There is growing recognition that solutions must include conservation, efficiency, infrastructure, and watershed health—including restoration that improves how water is stored and functions across the landscape. Without that kind of alignment, risks will continue to compound—ecologically, economically, and socially.
A Clearer Lens for What’s Ahead
Ecological drought is not a new agenda. It’s a way to understand how drought actually works in today’s world—how water shortages move through ecosystems, how impacts cascade, and how those impacts ultimately reach people.
It connects snowpack to rivers, rivers to habitat, and habitat to communities. And it underscores something essential: when ecosystems are pushed beyond their limits, the consequences don’t stay ecological—they become systemic.
That’s why this matters now. Because the question in front of us isn’t just how we respond to this year’s drought. It’s whether we’re building a system that can function—ecologically and socially—under the conditions we know are coming (or are here).
Heat-emitting Phoenix-area data centers next to already hot neighborhoods. Good thing a lot of those houses have swimming pools. They’ll need them. Source: Data Center Waste Heat as an Emerging Urban Thermal Hazard: First Field Measurements of Neighborhood-Scale Air Temperature Impacts, by David J. Sailor, Soroush Samareh Abolhassani, Eli P. Martin.
🤖 Data Center Watch 👾
Phoenix is hot, thanks to its location and elevation; it’s getting hotter, due to climate change, all that concrete and steel and glass and the urban heat island effect, and heat output from thousands of overworked air conditioning units; and it’s bound to get even hotter thanks to … data centers.
A team of Arizona State University researchers recently published a report on data center waste heat as an “emerging thermal hazard.” What they found will make folks who live near the facilities sweat, literally.
Data centers do a lot of work crunching information to stream movies, power AI queries, make those Tik Tok videos, and keep you doomscrolling, and work creates heat, meaning that data centers need constant cooling. As the paper’s authors put it, “virtually all electrical energy consumed by information technology equipment is ultimately converted to sensible heat,” and data centers consume huge amounts of electricity. More and more data centers, especially in arid areas, are using air cooling technology, which means taking that heat away from the equipment and putting it elsewhere — i.e. outside the facility, creating thermal plumes.
The researchers determined that these thermal plumes are migrating into adjacent neighborhoods and heating them up, with downwind air temperatures measuring up to .9° C warmer than upwind temperatures. The data centers’ excess heat was detected up to 500 meters, or about 1,600 feet, away from the facility. This is troubling given that many data centers are being constructed in or next to residential neighborhoods. The massive Cyrus One server farm complex in Chandler, Arizona, for example, is about 600 feet from single-family residences.
The authors write:
Keep in mind that this study only looked at the warming effect of on-grid facilities. Many of the new hyperscale data centers in the pipeline are planning to install power generation infrastructure, usually natural gas-fired, on-site, most likely radiating even more heat than the data centers alone. Putting your data center in Wyoming or Alaska rather than Phoenix or Las Vegas is making more and more sense.
⛈️ Wacky Weather Watch⚡️
Will it be the Sultry Summer of 2026 for the Four Corners region? The long-range forecasts sure do look that way. The good news is that it’s looking more and more likely that the monsoon will be potent in the Southwest, with the National Weather Service predicting above average precipitation over the next three months. The bad news is they are also calling for higher-than-normal temperatures for the entire West during that time period, which could offset some of the benefits of the rain.
But whether it’s normally hot or abnormally so, the extra moisture will be especially welcome this year. Many an irrigation ditch is likely to go dry in the next month or so, thanks to extra-low streamflows, and regular afternoon downpours could help farmers get their crops to harvest, so long as the storms aren’t too severe and don’t produce softball-sized hail stones or whatever.
Once the monsoon arrives, it should help dampen wildfire hazard a bit (although the lightning that always comes with it will certainly spark many a blaze). In the meantime, however, big swaths of the West are expected to have above normal wildland fire potential for the next month or so.
And blazes are flaring up here and there, including a small conflagration atop Hermosa Mountain north of Durango that is eerily reminiscent of the 416 Fire in 2018: This winter’s snowpack resembled 2018’s, the 416 broke out on June 1, and the starting points are in the same general area.
The current fire is burning in a hard-to-reach area at higher elevation and was definitely not started by sparks from the railroad. It’s also growing relatively slowly, having reached just 18 acres as of the evening of June 4.
***
Emery Peak near Silverton, Colorado, on June 2, 2026. Andy Gleason photo.
I don’t know about y’all, but the crazy winter and spring has screwed up my perception of the water situation. When skiing-obsessed snow-nerd Andy Gleason sent me this photo, I was somewhat surprised to see that there was any snow at all left in the high country, especially enough to carve a few turns on. When I see that the Animas River is running above 800 cfs right now, I think: That’s not so bad! And when I see Lake Powell’s surface level inching upwards rather than downwards a temporary feeling of relief washes over me.
Then I remember: It’s the beginning of June. The north facing high mountains should be coated with several feet of snow, not a few inches. The Animas should be running at 3,000 cfs, at least, and in a good year still would be approaching its peak. And Lake Powell’s inflows should far exceed releases at this time of year, bringing the surface level up by several feet or more, without requiring Flaming Gorge to be drawn down to “devastating” levels.
That bout of summer-like weather at the end of March set my internal season clock a couple of months ahead, so that I expect the conditions to be like they typically would be in late July. So once that split second of disorientation, and accompanying optimism, passes, there’s a sort of letdown.
Because, yes, the conditions are grim. And it was one of the worst winters, in terms of snowpack, on record. But there are reasons not to despair. While the snow was dismal, precipitation accumulation for the water year so far has been far less so, keeping extreme drought at bay. Temperatures cooled after the March heat spell, a series of storms kept the forests from becoming kindling, and desert rains summoned the wildflowers. Patches of globe mallow, sego lily, primrose, and prince’s plume brightened up the burnished sands of Utah, and my friend and I rode our bikes through a purple-hued super bloom near Farmington.
The land may be dry, but it still offers beauty, solace, and refuge from these trying times. [ed. emphasis mine]
Redrock reflection on the Dolores River near Gateway, downstream from the confluence with the San Miguel. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Last month I wrote about the despair I felt as I witnessed the virtually dry Dolores River bed a mile or so above its confluence with the San Miguel River. Neither the dryness nor the despair are new, though they both came early this year.
For decades, the wild Dolores would swell up into a raging torrent during the spring runoff. Then, during the summer, Montezuma Valley irrigators would divert nearly all of the stream’s flow, reducing these lower reaches to little more than a trickle come late July and August.
McPhee Dam started holding back those spring flows in the early 1980s. Like any dam, this one robbed so much life from the river. Yet this one also promised to give some life back to the beleaguered river by mitigating the impacts of all of that irrigation. The idea was to capture enough of the runoff to fill up the reservoir in the spring. During summer, the storage could be drawn down to serve irrigators, while most or all of the river’s natural flow could be sent through the dam to the Lower Dolores. It was like putting the river’s manic-depressive flows on lithium.
It worked, for a while: The massive spring runoffs, known to hit upwards of 11,000 cfs, were tempered, but enough water still flowed downstream to scour beaches and preserve Snaggletooth’s whitewater snarl. And for the first time in a century the lower Dolores didn’t run dry in July. In fact, the year-round flows were enough to build and sustain a cold-water fishery for trout in the first dozen or so miles below the dam and a habitat for native fish below that. Meanwhile, the Dolores River water was able to reach far more irrigators, including the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe and former dryland farmers out Dove Creek way.
It appeared to be a win-win situation. Then, beginning in 2000, things went awry as a long-term drought gripped the region. More often than not, the dam’s operators held back almost all of the water running into the reservoir to allow them to continue delivering something to the irrigators. And even then the reservoir still isn’t full enough to deliver all of the water that’s allocated: This year the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe and irrigators outside of the Montezuma Valley Irrigation Company will receive just 13% of their allotted amount. The river below the dam, of course, is the biggest loser, receiving virtually nothing.
And yet, not all is lost. The Dolores River Boating Advocates recently put out a postdetailing the grim forecast for this year, but also reporting on a new Colorado Parks and Wildlife effort to help fish in the Lower Dolores: pulse flows. They tested the concept last year by holding water back behind the dam for a few days by reducing release flows to 24 cfs, then bumping up releases to 75 cfs create a slight surge of water to reconnect downstream pools, to induce enough current to keep the water cooler, and allow fish to move around again.
Graph showing the pulse flows last summer as they reached Bedrock. So far this spring flows there have been below a dismal 10 cfs. Source: USGS.
The Boating Advocates write:
Of course streams also need water, and it’s so scarce this year that the base flows will be just 5 cfs, or one-fifth of last year’s base flows. And so the sorrows continue for the poor Dolores River.
And here’s the thing: closed loop water systems are 100% possible. They just require a bit more investment.Similarly, powering data centers off clean energy is also 100% possible. In some cases, it’s even cheaper!This disastrous overconsumption is not a technological failure: it’s a policy one.
Glen Canyon Dam forms Lake Powell on the Colorado River near Page, Ariz. Officials from the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation are holding back water and releasing water from an upstream reservoir to prop up levels in Lake Powell. CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM
Federal officials announced on Thursday that they plan on using a shorter-term framework for future Colorado River management so they can be more responsive to changing conditions and reservoir levels.
Acting Commissioner of the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation Scott Cameron said at an annual conference on water policy that the agency will be using a 10-year framework, issuing new operational guidelines every two years. In the absence of a seven-state deal for sharing shortages and managing reservoirs, river management now falls to the federal government — an outcome nearly everyone had hoped to avoid.
“We would love to have a 20-year deal or a 30-year deal but, frankly, we haven’t even been able to get the seven states to agree on what a two-year deal would look like,” Cameron said. “Given the highly unusual hydrological situation in the basin … we think it makes sense to take a second look at decision making every couple of years.”
As part of the required process under the National Environmental Policy Act, Cameron said Reclamation will release a final Environmental Impact Statement with its “preferred alternative,” in mid-to-late summer. It will lay out a more detailed 10-year operations plan for the nation’s two largest reservoirs, Lake Powell and Lake Mead, and will include short-term operational guidelines for 2027 and 2028. He said the plan provides a stable, transparent and adaptable framework for river management.
Scott Cameron is the acting commissioner of the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation. He announced Thursday the federal agency is planning to release a river management plan in mid-to-late summer that includes a 10-year framework, with new operational guidelines every two years. CREDIT: U.S. BUREAU OF RECLAMATION
“We want to pay more attention to what’s actually happening in the river and what’s happening in terms of the elevation of the reservoirs,” Cameron said. “We want to manage conservatively during low inflow periods and hopefully be able to transition to recovery as conditions improve across the basin to keep the system stable and resilient.”
Cameron left the door open for a return to future management by the states and added that if they eventually come to an agreement, it could supplant the federal plan.
Cameron’s update came at the Colorado Law Conference on Natural Resources at the University of Colorado Boulder, hosted by the Getches-Wilkinson Center and the Water & Tribes Initiative. Water managers from around the basin gathered at the Wolf Law School in the midst of one of the worst droughts on record that threatens the water supply for about 40 million people in the American Southwest. Record hot temperatures and one of the worst snowpacks since measuring began resulted in streamflows that peaked much lower than normal and, in some reaches, a month early. Reclamation’s most recent projections put spring runoff into Lake Powell at just 800,000 acre-feet, which would be 13% percent of normal and the lowest on record.
On top of the abysmal hydrologic conditions, the basin is also in the midst of a management crisis. The Upper Basin states (Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Wyoming) and Lower Basin states (California, Arizona and Nevada) after two years of negotiating have failed to reach a consensus on how they will share future cuts and have blown past deadlines to come up with a plan. The current guidelines, which have determined shortages and releases since 2007, expire at the end of the year. But for all intents and purposes, water managers need a new plan in place by the start of the new water year on Oct. 1.
Some of the problem still centers around the 1922 Colorado River Compact, which allocated half of the river’s flows (7.5 million acre-feet a year) to each basin. But this framework no longer applies under 21st century conditions, which has seen flows decline by 20% due to climate change. Despite indications a year ago that the states were moving to a supply-driven model based on each year’s snowpack and available water — rather than a fixed allocation of water — a new management framework the states can agree on has remained out of reach.
Colorado representative Becky Mitchell and Nevada representative John Entsminger speak at a conference on Colorado River policy in Boulder on Friday, June 5, 2026. The federal government is set to release a plan for future river management in mid-to-late summer. CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM
Beyond the band-aid
The feds’ operating plan for the first two years may be based on a proposal submitted by the Lower Basin states in early May, in which they propose to cut another 700,000 acre-feet of water per year through 2028, on top of the 1.5 million acre-feet they had already promised. California and Arizona will each take another 300,000 acre-feet of cuts and Nevada will take a cut of 100,000 acre-feet. The proposal does not include any mandatory conservation from the Upper Basin.
Federal officials responded in a May 28 letter with adjustments to make the proposal feasible, including the requirement that the Lower Basin states help pay for the 700,000 acre-feet of conservation. In the past, conservation programs have depended heavily on federal funding.
Becky Mitchell, who represents Colorado in the negotiations among the states, said during a Friday panel that the feds’ plan was a starting point but raises some concerns. Constantly renegotiating an operating plan every two years would be hard to fathom, she said.
“How do we fund and finance if we’re constantly renegotiating?” Mitchell said. “And how do we create the certainty that the 40 million people deserve?”
The feds have already stepped in this spring to prevent the worst consequences of the exceptionally dry winter and keep water levels at Lake Powell from falling below the threshold for making hydropower at Glen Canyon Dam. They are releasing up to 1 million acre-feet from Flaming Gorge Reservoir to prop up Powell and holding back Powell releases by about 1.5 million acre-feet. Cameron conceded, however, that these are temporary, stop-gap measures meant to address a critical situation.
“I think we succeeded in making everybody unhappy and everybody mad, which maybe means we’re doing the right thing in terms of Lake Powell,” Cameron said.
The Upper Basin states, including Colorado, are exploring ways to contribute water to a pool in Lake Powell as a means of maintaining higher water levels and an insurance policy against drastic cuts. But officials have not budged from their position that the Upper Basin is limited in what it can do and that cutting Lower Basin overuse is the primary solution to the Colorado River crisis.
Brad Udall, a water and climate scientist at Colorado State University whose presentation kicked off the conference, asked water managers not to waste this unique opportunity to redo 100 years of law and policy around how to manage a critical resource. And he directed a plea at the Upper Basin, saying that they, too, are part of the problem.
“We need everybody with a shoulder to this wheel,” Udall said. “We understand that the Upper Basin is different. We understand that they don’t have (large upstream) reservoirs and that every year people suffer. But we need you to help. Please help us.”
Udall/Overpeck 4-panel Figure Colorado River temperature/precipitation/natural flows with trend. Lake Mead and Lake Powell storage. Updated through Water Year 2025. Note the tiny points on the annual data so that you can flyspeck the individual years. Credit: Brad Udall
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
Click the link to read the article on the InkStain website (John Fleck):
June 1, 2026
I’ve been on a “Colorado River sabbatical” of late, but I took a peek last week at Reclamation’s latest 24-month study. Holy moly things have gotten bad since the last time I looked!
Those not on sabbatical already know all of this, but to keep Lake Powell above a surface elevation of 3,500 feet, Reclamation is:
increasing releases out of Flaming Gorge on the Wyoming-Utah border
dropping releases out of Lake Powell to 6 million acre feet this year
Even with those two “hail Mary” moves, Lake Mead is projected in the “most probable” scenario to drop to elevation 1,020 by summer 2027. Under the “minimum probable” forecast, Mead drops all the way to elevation 1,008 in 2027.
We are on the brink, as a group of my colleagues explains in a new analysis out this morning (Monday June 1, 2026), of a system crash:
Even a wet year, my friends conclude, would only provide a short reprieve from the need to significantly reduce consumptive use.
Building on a similar analysis done last September (I was a co-author on that one), the authors attempt to overcome one of the shortcomings of the traditional Colorado River accounting systems, which is to treat any water above “dead pool” as usable storage. This is not the case, with clear do-not-cross lines in the reservoirs that are maintained for technical reasons well above the bottom, defined by my colleagues as…
One of the reasons for my “sabbatical” is, frankly, an agonized frustration with the abject failure of Colorado River governance at the basin scale, and a desire to turn my attention to the local level, which is where the problem solving responsibility seems to rest right now. Each community needs to be having a serious conversation right now about the specifics of its Colorado River water supply, and how it intends to go about using less. Blaming other people for using too much isn’t particularly useful at this point, we seem to have chosen to hand that set of questions (the rule-based part of “who is entitled to how much”) over to the courts, and who knows what that process holds. We know the answer for everyone is “use less water”, and each community needs to be getting on with that conversation.
A large crowd listens to a presentation at the University of Colorado Boulder law school about securing powerful new water rights on Colorado’s West Slope to benefit the health of the Colorado River. Scott Franz/KUNC
June 5, 2026
This story is part of ongoing coverage of the Colorado River, produced by KUNC in Colorado and supported by the Walton Family Foundation. KUNC is solely responsible for its editorial coverage.
Water negotiators, river enthusiasts, Native tribes and lots of lawyers convened at the University of Colorado Law School on Thursday to take stock of the future of the dwindling Colorado River.
Here are five things KUNC’s water and environment reporter learned on the first day of the gathering.
There’s a thirst for treating the river as more than something to be consumed, and monetized and stretched out
Dale Sinquah, a tribal council member for Arizona’s Hopi tribe, is among a growing number of people who view the Colorado as a living being that should have the same rights as a person.
“If you look at it at that level and you allow it to, then it starts changing the ways in which you think about it, and maybe your actions,” he said.
Late last year, the Colorado River Indian Tribes of Arizona and California voted to give their namesake waterway the same legal rights as a person, saying the ‘living being’ deserves more protection while it’s being threatened by overuse and drought.
Sinquah said he had mixed reviews of the discussions at the water conference halfway through the first day.
“I’m kind of wondering if we’re stuck in that mode where you know personal interest (is winning) instead of how do we fix this as a whole, as a group,” he said. “It works better when you work together as a group.”
There’s still no finalized federal plan for the river yet, and the White House could have the final say…
Scott Cameron, the acting commissioner of the Bureau of Reclamation overseeing the operations of Lake Powell and Lake Mead, said the Interior Department is expecting to publish a short term operating plan for the reservoirs by “mid-summer.”
He said the plan would have to be renegotiated every two years and could be replaced at any time with one that the seven states can agree on.
“The good news is that the White House is very interested in what’s going on with the Colorado, so we’ll probably have to brief the White House on the (Secretary of the Interior’s) decision before it’s final,” Cameron said.
U.S. Interior Secretary Doug Burgum, center, speaks during a gathering with governors from six states in the Colorado River basin on Friday, Jan. 30, 2026. Photo credit: Lowell Whitman/Department Of Interior
River negotiations are ongoing, but details are scarce…
First governors from all seven states in the river basin were summoned to Washington, DC, ahead of the Feb. 14 deal deadline they missed.
Then, after that didn’t work, came the Microsoft Teams meeting.
Scott Cameron, the acting commissioner of the Bureau of Reclamation, said Interior Secretary Doug Burgum recently talked with the seven governors again on the virtual meeting platform.
“The fact that he is trying to wrangle his gubernatorial colleagues twice, I think, indicates how seriously Secretary Burgum takes what’s happening in the Colorado River,” Cameron said.
However, no deal has yet to materialize as the states remain at an impasse, and some in the upper basin have called for a different mediator to intervene.
June 1, 2026 seasonal water supply forecast summary.
One thing is clear.
Forecasts for the river have gotten worse in recent months. And there was an acknowledgement that the status quo is not sustainable.
Graphic via Holly McClelland/High Country News.
Could the feds get more involved in the management of upper basin reservoirs like Flaming Gorge? The answer is murky…
The audience asked Cameron, the Bureau of Reclamation official, about his thinking on how Interior should manage four large reservoirs in the upper basin that are collectively known as the upper initial units (they include Flaming Gorge on the Wyoming-Utah border).
Flaming Gorge is currently being partially drained so water can be sent down to Lake Powell so it doesn’t get so low that it stops producing hydropower.
Cameron said the Interior Secretary could exert more control over the reservoirs in the future in the event of an “emergency.”
“And what an emergency is, I think, is probably in the eyes of the beholder,” he said. “Now, you put four or five lawyers in a room. You’ll probably get nine answers on how much discretion the secretary has or doesn’t have in the upper initial units.”
Parts of the lake that have only recently been uncovered are full of old beer cans and other relics of boating escapades, including sunken boats.
But deeper down, Podmore shared photos of Native artifacts that have survived decades of being submerged.
New ecosystems are also taking shape.
The Colorado River Basin spans seven U.S. states and part of Mexico. Lake Powell, upstream from the Grand Canyon, and Lake Mead, near Las Vegas, are the two principal reservoirs in the Colorado River water-supply system. (Bureau of Reclamation)
Doug Kenney at the Getches-Wilkinson Center 2026 Conference on the Colorado River June 5, 2026. Photo credit: Allen Best
Click the link to read the article on the Big Pivots website (Allen Best):
June 7, 2026
Doug Kenney, principal organizer of annual gathering in Boulder, talks about how the growing tensions among basin states pose challenges in setting the agenda
The Colorado River has always had a magnetic appeal to the public consciousness. John Wesley Powell and his crew were instant national heroes after they emerged from the Grand Canyon in 1869.
That interest continues to this day. Bathtub rings are an absorbing visual, an easy way to communicate declines in the two biggest reservoirs in the basin, Mead and Powell. The river is being hammered by a warming climate and archaic governance of the shared resource.
This provides much to chew on, and that discussion continued again on June 4-5 at the Colorado River Conference hosted by the Getches-Wilkinson Center at the University of Colorado Law School. Organizers reported 373 people were registered to attend in person and another 132 remotely, a record for both. This surpasses a record set last year.
Afterward, Big Pivots sat down with Doug Kenney, the principal organizer of the conference, to take stock of what had just transpired. He directs the Western Water Policy Program and chairs the Colorado River Research Group.
What year did this conference begin? What was the thinking that gave birth to it?
I believe 1983 was the first one. This was mostly a creation of Larry MacDonnell, (the first director of the Natural Resources Law Center, a position he held from 1983 to 1994).
Larry pursued a dual mandate of researching key issues but also of trying to involve the public and other constituencies. A conference was a natural thing to do. We are an educational institution.
I’ve done the last 30 or so of them, but Larry got it started,
It seems like two or three, maybe three years ago, the tribes became a major presence in attendance and on the agenda. How did this come about?
Mostly through our professional networks. We knew people who were associated with the (Colorado River Basin) Water and Tribes Initiative. They wanted to broaden their reach and their influence. At the same time, we’ve here always wanted to involve tribal interests in what we do, going back to the work of David Getches and Charles Wilkinson.
We decided we’d try co-hosting a conference. It’s a partnership, and like all partnerships, it grows over time. But it’s working pretty well, I think.
Am I wrong? Was I missing something? I didn’t notice much of tribal presence in the agenda or participation until just a few years ago.
We’d usually maybe have one tribal speaker sprinkled in the program somewhere, but it was pretty hit and miss, in part I think because you kind of need a critical mass of involvement from the tribal community for other tribes to feel like this is a place that they’d be taken seriously and that they’d be welcomed. It wasn’t a slow linear growth to where we’re at today. There was a pretty dramatic shift four or five years ago.
How new is the Water Tribal Initiative?
They’ve been around I think for about a decade. They’re co-managed by Matt McKinney, who wasn’t here, and Daryl Vigil.
Native America in the Colorado River Basin. Credit: USBR
It’s not a national thing, but the Colorado Basin has 30 different tribes. That’s a pretty big number of tribes to keep track of. It’s a network as much as it is anything, and every so often they try to get together. They consider this conference their big convening. They also get to get together at CRWUA (Colorado River Water Users Association, which holds an annual conference during December in Las Vegas).
They have also produced a few research reports. This week they talked about their report on tribal sovereignty. And they have particular initiatives within the Water and Tribes Initiative, such as universal access to clean water. They are pushing, mostly through federal legislation, to provide assurances that all tribes have access to clean water.
Do they have a strong benefactor?
I don’t think so, but they have a very broad base of funders and supporters. A lot of water agencies, a lot of people, and a lot of organizations that know tribes have been treated poorly and that tribes have legitimate interests in the basin but (know) that many tribes just don’t have the resources to do this without some assistance.
As I’ve attended most years since 2002, I have noticed some ebbs and flows. There were some empty seats this afternoon, but the seats were mostly occupied through the first day and a half, and that’s somewhat different than, say, 10 years ago. What explains the ebb and flow?
I attribute that mostly to two things: one is this partnership with the Water and Tribes Initiative. The other thing is the fact that we’re talking about the Colorado River, which by every measure is in a crisis. It’s easier to get people’s attention when you’re talking about a crisis than when you’re talking about something that’s still not that serious. That’s part of it.
We used to be in another building. This is clearly a better facility for audience and speakers alike. That helps us attract a larger audience. We’ve had good foundation support, good funders. It takes a lot of money to do this, but we’ve had funders that see value in it. That has allowed us to make this a bigger event.
The conference is always the first week of June, so when do you begin rough-drafting the agenda?
Usually January. In some years it’s easier than others. This year was the most difficult. It was the easiest year in terms of attracting an audience. The hardest year in terms of putting the program together.
Everyone’s mad at each other, and everyone is — I can’t tell you all the back stories. Becky Mitchell said something today about how it’s hard to negotiate and prepare for litigation at the same time. She’s right. And I was thinking to myself, it’s hard to bring people together to talk at a conference while acknowledging the fact that they’re all mad at each other, and some of them are about to sue each other, and some can’t be in the same room with each other because they’re that angry, and some will be deeply offended if someone else is there.
It’s one of these years that there’s just so many delicate issues and angry folks — and angry for legitimate reasons; I’m not discounting that. But it’s been a really challenging year.
Your answer anticipates my next question, but I’ll ask it nonetheless. If memory serves me, a few years ago you had representatives of all seven basin states at the same table. This year you had two. I guess it’s fair to say that agenda setting has become more politically sensitive.
Every year for the last four or five years we’ve given all seven principals, all seven states, an opportunity to sit at the same table and have a discussion. In every passing year it becomes more difficult to do that.
Commissioner to the Upper Colorado River Commission Becky Mitchell, center, speaks on a panel with representatives of each of the seven basin states at the annual Colorado River Water Users Association conference in Las Vegas Thursday, December 15, 2022. CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM
You have seen this at CRWUA as well. Some years they had to divide into two sessions, upper and lower basin sessions. For awhile we were thinking of just having a lower basin session. The lower basin folks were happy to do that, but the upper basin folks weren’t as comfortable. We (also) thought about a different part of the session or a different location.
Ultimately we came to the conclusion that everyone could agree if it would be a conversation, not a posturing or confrontational thing. (Having) one upper basin person and one lower basin person, that was a format that could work. That’s what we did (with Becky Mitchell from Colorado and John Entsminger of Nevada). Anything more elaborate than that I don’t think was viable this year. It’s a really delicate time.
In terms of conferences devoted to the Colorado River do you have rivals for what you’re doing? Are there other places in Arizona or California, for example, that are kind of like must-go sessions?
There are two must-attend Colorado River conferences each year, and this is one of them. CRWUA (in Las Vegas) is the other one.
We specifically try to be different than CRWUA. We’re the opposite end of the calendar, roughly six months away. CRWUA is in many respects much more of a social event. We try to be more academic and about policy, with serious talk about serious issues. CRWUA, just like us, ebbs and flows from year to year in terms of what it looks like. But we try to be a little more hard-hitting and less of a, you know, take-the-family-and-have-a-vacation sort of event. I don’t mean to sound like I’m negative on CRWUA. I think we’re the perfect compliment.
Aside from that, there are some meetings such as CLE, Continuing Legal Education. It always has a Colorado River event. This year was quite good. Many other years, it’s not as strong. For practicing attorneys, that’s something that they want to go to every year, because they can get some credits there.
Still another one in New Mexico that’s held each year kind of commemorates the signing of the compact.
How do you measure success? I’m sure you constantly ask that question of yourself.
You understand the challenge of it all. We can measure success by the size of the crowd and that they mostly seemed to have a good time. In that sense, that’s success.
The other side of that is that we’ve been focused just on the Colorado River issues for the last five or six of these, and things have only gotten worse on the river. Obviously, we don’t think we’re to blame for that. But clearly, there’s no great success story that we can lay credit to either.
So I think we’re successful in that we promote conversation and the exchange of ideas, and we shine a light on new and innovative ideas, and we give a voice to people who sometimes don’t have a voice. This is where the tribes come into play again.
Some elements I think are successful, but in the very big scope of things, the issues that we’ve been addressing in our conference aren’t getting any better. It does force me to think about (and question) whether there is a better way for us to make a difference. I don’t know what that would be, but I do think about that a lot.
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
Tesla Model Y and electric camper trailer charging in Lake St. Louis June 5, 2026. Sorry, I forgot to ask the dude for the manufacturer information.
I am in St. Louis for my first ever punk rock concert and some baseball!
The owner of the rig in the photo told me that the trailer was fully electric, but he said that the Tesla couldn’t draw charge from the trailer. Nice light low-profile rig.
The Model Y I am driving (rented from Turo) has Grok integrated so you can set and change your navigation interactively. I asked many questions of her (I mean IT!) during the solo drive from Denver so it’s sort of like having your computer available while driving. Of course the discourse was mostly, “What river am I crossing?”
Grok, “That is likely the Missouri River which is located in this general area.” Sure enough, a road sign validated Grok’s message — one correct query!
The Trump administration is attacking public lands again, this time in an apparent effort to open more special places to off-road vehicles. Late last Friday, Trump issued an executive order revoking a Nixon-era policy aimed at ensuring “that the use of off-road vehicles on public lands will be controlled and directed so as to protect the resources of those lands, to promote the safety of all users of those lands, and to minimize conflicts among the various uses of those lands.”
No, this does not mean unfettered swarms of ATVs will be kicking up dust on your favorite public lands next week. But it does bolster the off-road vehicle lobby’s effort to open up motorized access to federal lands, and takes away one of the long-term planning tools used by land management agencies to protect those places from off-road vehicle use and abuse.
In the nearer-term, Trump’s order could end or diminish the ban on OHVs in national parks, allowing the vehicles to travel backroads in, say, Capitol Reef National Park. This might not sound so bad: If a three-ton SUV can drive there, why not let a smaller side-by-side or four-wheeler on the same road?
The answer lies in the nature of the newer OHVs, namely “side-by-sides” or razors, which more closely resemble souped-up dune buggies than conventional SUVs. While some people use OHVs as mere modes of transportation, the vehicles are more commonly treated and utilized like recreational playthings — very powerful, fast, and noisy toys that tend to travel in herds. They therefore bring their own type of impacts.
Alpine Loop Backcountry Scenic Byway near Lake City, Ouray, Powderhorn, Ridgway, Silverton Credit: ColoradoDirectory.com
Anyone who has traveled on or hiked around the Alpine Loop in the San Juan Mountains of southwestern Colorado on a busy summer day has likely experienced these particular impacts first-hand. Those roads were first opened up to OHVs in the early 2000s. Since then Alpine Loop traffic numbers have exploded, with at least half of the motorized traffic made up of OHVs.
Law enforcement officers now spend a disproportionate amount of time and energy trying to keep the OHV drivers on designated routes and in compliance with traffic laws. OHV crashes, often resulting in serious injury, are not uncommon. And each summer several riders surrender to the temptation to illegally leave the road — these are off-road vehicles, after all — and rip across the tundra, causing irreversible damage. Unlike regular vehicles, OHVs tend to travel in herds, spewing exhaust and kicking up dust, their collective buzzing reaching far beyond the roads on which they travel. It has become almost impossible during the high season to completely escape the incessant din of OHVs on the Alpine Loop, even in wilderness study areas.
This same phenomenon could now be coming to a national park near you.
The administration claims it eliminated the policy because it was outdated, vague, and redundant, because Congress has since passed a host of other laws protecting public lands from OHVs and other uses. The order goes on to say:
This makes very little sense. Sure, the restrictions on OHVs could hamper energy or timber development if it required destructive off-road vehicle use, but you’re not going to haul a drill rig into the backcountry on a side-by-side. And the idea that a hiker might feel “banned” from a trail because they couldn’t ride get there on an OHV is just silly.
The dubious statement reeks of the rhetoric of the crowd that claims that motorized vehicle restrictions are locking folks out of public lands, and therefore are discriminating against the type of people who drive these vehicles. But the discrimination claim simply does not fly. Mountain bikes are banned from wilderness areas, from a majority of trails in national parks, from some trails on BLM land, and are not allowed to ride off-trail on all federal land. This has nothing to do with the people who ride the bikes, or even the funny clothes they tend to wear, and everything to do with the vehicles’ potential impacts.
Trump probably did this at the behest of the Blue Ribbon Coalition and the likes of Sen. Mike Lee, who has pushed legislation that would open up national parks to OHVs. Maybe he’s trying to garner support from somewhere, given his terrible favorability ratings. Or perhaps he’s trying to appease the motorized crowd, which is probably a bit miffed that their drug of choice — gasoline — is so damned expensive thanks to Donny’s dumb war. Maybe he’s even trying to increase national park entry fee revenues so he can funnel it to his ballroom/drone-port or his White House UFC fight.
Near Hite with the Henry Mountains. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
🐟 Colorado River Chronicles 💧
It pretty much goes without saying that if next winter is as bad as this past winter, in terms of mountain snowpack, then the collective users of the Colorado River and its infrastructure will be toast — at least figuratively (maybe literally, too?). Now, my favorite team of Colorado River wonks1 [Anne Castle, Jack Schmidt, Eric Kuhn, Kathryn Sorensen, Katherine Tara] have crunched the latest water numbers, and they’ve found that even a nearly “normal” winter won’t stop depletion of “reasonably accessible storage in Lake Powell and Lake Mead, leading to “devastating consequences.”
Back in 1999, the Colorado River’s storage system, which consists of Lake Powell, Lake Mead, and several other smaller reservoirs in the Upper and Lower basins, was almost full, holding about 60 million acre-feet of active, or available, storage. This provided a robust savings account that could be tapped during the inevitable dry spells on the notoriously fluctuating river system.
The reserve, however, was not adequate for the megadrought — or long-term aridification — that started in 2000 and continues today. Instead of following the usual up-down cycle, the Colorado River’s flows began a downward trend that is on track to hit its lowest point so far this water year, while consumptive use stayed more or less steady. Demand exceeded supply more years than not, drawing the savings account down significantly. That has forced the Bureau of Reclamation to take extraordinary measures, such as reducing downstream releases and tapping upstream reservoirs, to keep Lake Powell’s surface level from dropping below 3,500 feet, or what I call de facto dead pool 2.
Thanks in part to extra releases from Flaming Gorge Reservoir in May, Lake Powell’s surface level climbed slightly to 3,528 feet last month. Given that spring runoff in the Upper Basin has peaked and most tributary flows are decreasing, we can expect that number to start dropping, perhaps precipitously, at least until the monsoon arrives.
The wonks wanted an idea of how things might play out in the slightly longer-term, so they modeled two scenarios:
In the first scenario, they assume that the Colorado River’s natural flow, or the estimated amount of water in the river without human consumption or interference, will be similar to water year 2025, when the mountain snowpack was below average but not nearly as slim as this year. They also assume that consumptive uses will remain at the lowest levels in recent years.
Natural flow: 8.5 MAF at Lees Ferry + .70 MAF from Grand Canyon and Virgin River = 9.20 MAF Consumptive use: 3.56 MAF Upper Basin (includes evaporation and other losses) + 8.23 MAF Lower Basin + Mexico (incl. evap and other losses) = 11.79 MAF Deficit and resulting reservoir drawdown: 2.59 MAF Realistically accessible storage (RAS) remaining in Mead, Powell, and Flaming Gorge: 3.63 MAF
For the second, they plug in snowpack/flow numbers similar to those from water year 2023, which was a huge winter. Consumptive use would be about the same as in 2023.
Under the first scenario, the BoR will almost certainly have to go to a run-of-the-river situation on Glen Canyon Dam to defend 3,500 feet. That would mean releases would be approximately equal to inflows minus evaporation and seepage from the reservoir, and might drop to 3,000 to 4,000 cubic feet per-second or even lower. In the summer of 2002 inflows at times dropped below 1,000 cfs. This would turn the river through the Grand Canyon into a relative trickle, and cause a significant drawdown of Lake Mead.
The second scenario would be far better, but is far from an enduring solution. At best it would buy a little time, perhaps enough for the feds to build bypass tunnels around Glen Canyon Dam to allow for sustained releases below 3,500 feet. If it were followed by another three or four 2023-like winters, then things would start to look pretty darned good.
But if it were followed by just one more dry year it would bring everything back to today’s rather dire situation.
Since there’s no way to bolster supplies, the only way out of this mess is to continue to slash demand. The paper’s authors write:
Oof.
As long as we’re on the topic, the BoR recently released its Lower Basin accounting report for 2025, which tallies up consumptive uses in the basin. As you can see from the following graphs, which the Land Desk whipped up using the BoR data, the Lower Basin uses significantly less water now than it did in 1999, just before the current megadrought began. Upper Basin consumptive use figures for 2025 are not yet available. The following figures do not include reservoir evaporation, conveyance losses, or Mexico’s use.
All three Lower Basin states have substantially reduced Colorado River water consumption since 1999. However, more cuts will be needed if current climatic and streamflow trends continue. Data: USBR, Graphic: The Land Desk
🤖 Data Center Watch 👾
Has Enchant Energy finally found a raison d’être? The Farmington-based company was created in 2019 to try to save the San Juan coal-fired power plant from retirement by retrofitting it with carbon capture equipment. Enchant would then sell the carbon to oil producers in the Permian Basin, while also receiving generous federal tax credits. Basically they wanted to turn the power plant into a taxpayer subsidized carbon dioxide factory. It flopped for various reasons. Now the San Juan plant — and all of its pollution — are no more. We suspected Enchant Energy had met a similar fate.
But then I received a press release letting me know the not-so-up upstart is not dead, but has instead signed a letter of intent with Creekstone Energy to capture carbon from the tech firm’s proposed hyperscale Delta Gigasite data center in Delta, Utah. As is often the case, Creekstone touts all of the renewable energy it plans on building for its center, but the first phase will be powered by natural gas, which emits carbon dioxide.
Enchant hopes to capture the carbon from the gas plant and convert it into marketable fuel. The company has apparently given up on trying to give coal-burning a slightly more climate-friendly veneer (after all, Trump has declared coal to be “clean” and “beautiful”). Instead, it looks like they’re jumping on the data center bandwagon, along with wannabe nuclear reactor developers and the like.
Who knows, maybe this is the thing that finally gives Enchant some meaning. But we’re not holding our breath. After spending gobs of money on lobbying, pulling in some hefty federal grants, then failing spectacularly with the San Juan generating bid, Enchant partnered with another firm and tried to buy the Intermountain coal plant in Delta to use it to power its own data center. That didn’t work, either.
Dolores Canyon solar project outside of Cahone, Colorado, with Airproduct’s apparently defunct helium plant on the right. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
🔋Notes from the Energy Transition 🔌
Yes, the energy transition may have run into some stumbling blocks, i.e. the Trump administration’s hatred for anything that might compete with coal and oil and gas, but it’s still quietly underway. For example, out by the aforementioned, defunct San Juan coal plant, DESRI recently broke ground on two utility-scale solar installations: the 170-megawatt Foxtail Flats solar-plus-battery storage array; and the 100-MW Four Mile Mesa solar-plus-storage project.
That’s some pretty serious generating capacity and adds to the existing San Juan solar facility nearby. Los Alamos County has signed on to purchase power from Foxtail Flats, and Meta will be drawing electricity Four Mile Mesa via PNM to power its data centers.
Both of the new facilities are under development on Ute Mountain Ute tribal land.
📸 Parting Shot 🎞️
In last week’s comments, ncoffey94 asked what kind of bike I ride. It’s a 2023 Niner RLT, with an aluminum frame, carbon fork, and SRAM Apex parts. It’s nothing fancy and isn’t super light. But I dig it for riding on the roads, dirt, and even singletrack. It’s got 40 mm tires, so isn’t so great in the sand, and with no suspension I don’t do big drops or super-cobbly stuff. But it sure is nice having just one bike for all uses.
Photo credit: Jonathan P. Thompson.
1Anne Castle, Jack Schmidt, Eric Kuhn, Kathryn Sorensen, and Katherine Tara.
2 Water can no longer be released through the penstocks and hydropower turbine below 3,500 feet, forcing dam operators to rely on the lower river outlets for all downstream water releases. Those outlets are not engineered for sustained, long-term use, however, and could be damaged. The feared scenario looks kind of like this: The penstocks are closed; the river outlets release water faster than reservoir inflows; the reservoir surface level drops down to, say, 3,450 feet; the river outlets get damaged so must be shut down altogether, trapping the remaining water behind the dam and halting all releases until the water climbs back up to 3,500 feet. This would effectively dry up the Grand Canyon and cause Lake Mead to start plummeting as well. Of course, no one wants this to happen, so BoR is doing all it can to defend 3,500 feet, making that level the effective dead pool, even though technically 3,370 feet (the river outlet elevation) is the actual dead pool.
Blue Castle Holdings is proposing to build a nuclear power plant in Green River, Utah. You have not gone through a time warp, nor is this a “this date in history” sorta thing, though it could be. The same company tried to build a reactor in Green River a couple of decades ago, during the last “nuclear renaissance,” but the project fizzled amid fierce opposition, uncertainty over water rights, and as the nuke boom busted before it ever really got going.
This week, Blue Castle announced that the concept had only been dormant, not dead, and that it was coming out of hibernation in a spiffed up form in hopes of serving rapidly growing data center-driven electricity demand. Instead of constructing two, 1,500 MW reactors, the company — in partnership with Fulcrum Point Holdings — looks to install small modular reactors. It has not specified what the nameplate capacity will be, but says the units can be air-cooled, meaning they wouldn’t use as much water as conventional reactors.
Blue Castle has a bit of a head start on the project, since they’ve already done most of the site characterization work (on private land about five miles west of Green River). But they’ll still have to jump through the nuclear reactor licensing hoops, which can be arduous. That said, it should be a lot easier with both the Trump administration and the Cox administration champing at the bit to get more nukes up and running. Meanwhile, opposition to the idea is not likely to be any less fervent now than it was 20 years ago, and they’ll still have to secure water in an increasingly aridified region.
The melon-farming town along the banks of the Green River has become a magnet for proposed and actual industrial projects lately. The prospective nuclear plant joins Anson Resources’ lithium extraction project, Western Uranium & Vanadium’s proposed uranium mill, a 400-megawatt solar-plus-storage installation, and various uranium, lithium, and potash extraction proposals in the surrounding areas.
Check the weather report before heading out on this road. Photo credit: NPS
🌵 Public Lands 🌲
Well, they’ve gone and done it now. Garfield County has paved the Hole-in-the-Rock Road, or at least the first 10 miles of it. To folks who are unfamiliar with the road situation in Utah, paving — chip-sealing, actually — a notoriously washboarded, suspension-blasting, teeth-rattling dead-end dirt road may not seem like such a big deal. But this little maintenance action could have real consequences for the public land it runs through, i.e. Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, and sets a dangerous legal precedent when it comes to roads on public lands. It is also a symbolic move for both the opponents and proponents of the asphalt-laying project.
The Hole-in-the-Rock (HITR) road roughly follows the first segment of the Hole-in-the-Rock trail, which is the route Church of Latter Day Saints colonists forged in 1879 to get from Escalante to what would become Bluff City on the banks of the San Juan River in the southeastern corner of Utah. When the early Mormon travelers reached the seemingly-impassable, 2,000-foot-deep Glen Canyon on the Colorado River, they blasted and built a passage for their wagons, horses, and cattle through a natural opening in the cliff and called it Hole in the Rock.
It may have been this experience, in part, that led the descendants of those folks to develop a kind of fetish for roads, especially ones that cross federal land. By building the path across an especially rugged chunk of country and even crossing the mighty Colorado, they were able to assert a certain amount of control over what they saw as a hostile and wild landscape. Now county commissioners in Utah fight for control over backcountry roads* as a sort of proxy for dominating the lands they pass through. Garfield County has long looked to take ownership of the HITR road so that they can improve and pave it and be sure the Bureau of Land Management never closes it.
Environmental groups, meanwhile, have pushed back against county control. While the feds almost never close roads, they are more likely than counties to do so if necessary to protect cultural or ecological resources**. Counties are more likely to improve the roads, which leads to more people and attendant impacts in the backcountry.
Today’s HITR road runs 62 miles, from just outside Escalante to Hole in the Rock, where the canyon below is now mostly inundated by Lake Powell. It snakes its way on a rough parallel path to the Escalante River and passes near the heads of many of its tributary canyons that are popular with backcountry adventurers.
As visitation to the national monument and its surroundings has increased, so has the HITRR’s traffic: Garfield County’s road crew says some 600 vehicles per day travel the washboard-plagued road, with as many as 1,500 each day on weekends. All those cars wreak havoc on the road, and the county says it has been spending $150,000 annually on maintenance, some of which it claims could be avoided if it were allowed to pave the road.
Last July, a federal court ruled in favor of Garfield County and granted it quiet title to the section of the HITR Road in the county (the lower section is in Kane County, which also won quiet title to that portion of the road). In February, the county began preparing the route for chip-sealing. It informed the BLM of the work, but did not apply for a permit, and the BLM did nothing to stop the work. That was two victories in a row for the local-control over the public’s land crowd.
The Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance sued both the BLM and the county, saying the work required federal approval, since it occurred on federal land. It also sought an emergency injunction on further work while the case is pending.
Earlier this month, a judge denied the injunction request, clearing the way for Garfield County to proceed. A few days later, the machines were out there laying asphalt, while county officials and their backers crowed triumphantly and public land lovers cried foul. The courts may eventually rule against the county, but the chip seal is there to stay.
“Paving will lead to more, faster, and louder traffic,” said SUWA attorneys in a written statement, “changing the remote, serene backcountry experience the monument was created to protect, and that draws visitors from around the world.”
Even pavement/chip-seal can’t stop the desert from taking back the Burr Trail. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
The HITR Road battle is an echo of an almost identical fight over the Burr Trail, another backcountry road between Boulder, Utah, which lies within Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, and Ticaboo/Bullfrog on the shores of Lake Powell. The sections on BLM land on either side of the route have been paved and/or chip-sealed after years of conflict. But the National Park Service has blocked Garfield County from paving the middle segment, which passes through Capitol Reef National Park.
I drive the Burr Trail any chance I get, simply because I love the country it travels through and because the slower pace the road requires allows me to see more, and facilitates frequent stops to get out of the car and look around.
I’m sure that traffic has increased since the paving. Just based on my observations, however, I would say that the added number of vehicles is not necessarily increasing the number of folks going into the surrounding backcountry. What I’ve seen are more RVs and low-slung sedans heading down the road from Boulder, going beyond the end of the pavement, stopping at the top of the switchbacks through the Waterpocket Fold (where the road is steep, loose gravel, and washboarded), then turning around and heading back up to Boulder. The eastern paved section, towards Bullfrog, has very little traffic. (On my most recent trip I did see a few vehicles drive up the Burr Trail switchbacks, then come back down before heading north on the Notom Road back toward Capitol Reef, a phenomenon that was also evident at the Moqui Dugway road in San Juan County.)
Looking down at the unpaved part of Burr Trail from the switchbacks. Jonathan P. Thompson photo
So while paving HITRR is a sort of symbolic and even spiritual defeat for those public lands and the folks looking to protect them, I’m also not sure that it will necessarily lead to more impacts to the surrounding backcountry. Garfield County’s vehicle count numbers, if correct, indicate that the automobile-driving masses are already driving the road. How could you cram more than 1,500 vehicles a day onto that little section?
In any event, it’s certainly the end of an era, and driving the first ten miles of the HITRR will be a completely different experience than it was pre-blacktop. Whether the phenomenon will be limited to those ten miles (and the Burr Trail), or spread throughout the rutted byways of Utah may depend on the outcome of SUWA’s lawsuit.
Campsite boulder. Utah. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
🛻 Notes from the Road 🏕️
The hummingbirds have come back to southern Utah for the spring. Are they earlier than usual? Later? Maybe all that really matters is the penstemon are blooming, scarlet red.
***
One of my non-Land Desk gigs is compiling and summarizing Western energy news for a Canary Media newsletter every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning. This requires early morning internet, so when I’m out and about it means staying in a hotel on those nights or camping in a site where I know there is a strong and steady cell signal.
Stone, water, light. Utah. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
But on Tuesdays and Thursdays and weekends, I’m free to wander as far off grid as I can get. This is not difficult in southern Utah, which may have the highest proportion of out-of-cell-signal-range lands in the continental U.S.
Liberated from the digital shackles, I meander impulsively, by car, by bike, on foot, in search of the perfect campsite, a cool pool of desert water, a viewpoint from which the landscape unfurls before me, the post-storm light playing among the red rock crevices and spires far below. The sense of time slips away and I quickly forget what day it is. The lack of destination or deadline allows me to wander down whatever road, canyon, or trail looks appetizing. More often than not, they are dead ends, which is just fine.
A tinaja, or pothole, after a good rain. Southeastern Utah. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Recently I set off on such an amble from Bullfrog Marina on Lake Powell. A storm had blown through the night before, leaving a few inches of wet snow on the steep slopes of the Henry Mountains and clearing the haze and smoke and dust from the air. Remnants of the storm lingered over the mountains and high mesas, defying the weather forecasts.
Following a bike ride up the paved part of the Burr Trail, I headed in el Burro Blanco onto the eastern slope of the Henries, and followed a back road that traversed the incline.
The soil was rocky enough to naturally gravel the road, or rather, to cobblestone it. While it wasn’t a smooth ride, it did keep the surface solid despite a couple of inches of moisture that fell the previous night and morning, at least for a while. Then, after topping a little rise, and as I descended a north-facing slope into a small drainage, the cobbles vanished, giving way to classic southern Utah clay. Goopy nasty stuff, that is, the kind of mud that steals your shoes, builds up on your tiles, and turns a motorized vehicle into a slip-sliding, uncontrollable, wheeled sled and that inspires signs warning “Impassible When Wet.”
Post-rain arroyo patterns. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Luckily, the fall line followed the line of travel, meaning I landed safely on a more solid patch of road at the trough of the drainage. I got out and surveyed the path ahead on foot, only to find that conditions worsened. I could either camp there and wait for the road to dry, or try to make it back up the hill I had just slid down in my rear-wheel drive pickup.
The former was the more intelligent choice, of course. But the campsite was far from ideal, and the clouds were still pretty thick, meaning it might rain or snow even more, and I don’t always make the smartest choices. Then I remembered: I had bought chains for the truck soon after inheriting it. I broke them out, chained up the rear wheels, did a thirty-point turnaround, and barreled back up the way I came, no problemo.
A couple of hours later, after venturing down another backroad, albeit one on more stable soil and at a considerably lower elevation, I landed in a delightful campsite. The rain had flushed away the gnats, settled the dust, sculpted the sand in the arroyos that flowed past the camp, summoned the wildflowers to bloom, and filled the tinajas and potholes to the brim with murky, cool water.
***
Photo credit: Jonathan P. Thompson/The Land Desk
I’ve included a lot of different types of content in the Land Desk, from Messing with Maps, to Data Dumps, to movie reviews, but I don’t believe I’ve ever included a recipe here. That all changes today. I would recommend that you not try this recipe at home; it’s refined nature can only be fully appreciated when prepared on a camp stove and eaten in the outdoors, preferably while watching the evening light slide slowly across the desert.
I grew up going camping, usually in the Utah desert, with my family. It’s just what we did on many a weekend and on just about every school break. We didn’t have enough money for “real” family vacations, and we wouldn’t have wanted to do the Disneyland thing, anyway. This means I also grew up eating my father’s distinctive camp cooking, almost always made over a campfire because we didn’t have a camp stove.
I remember liking the food back then, but looking back I do have to wonder whether it wasn’t a form of child abuse. Delicacies included Dinty Moore beef stew on top of a bed of those canned deep-fried chow mein noodles; corned beef hash from a can; Vienna sausages — my dad’s friend called them cows lips in order to get us to hand them over; generic grape, orange, or black-cherry soda-pop; and, my personal favorite, those Pillsbury biscuits in a can cooked in a skillet over the fire in a sizzling reservoir of Country Crock squeeze-bottle margarine.
I’ve spent years trying to heal the taste-bud trauma, partially by sprinkling my food with truffle oil whenever someone else is paying for it, and have come quite a ways in my recovery. But it all went to hell in a hand basket when I went camping with a friend, who originally hails from the Midwest, and let him assume dinner duties one night. To my horror and dismay, he prepared something called Chili-Mac, which consists of a can of Hormel canned beef chili dumped into a batch of Krafts instant macaroni and cheese. I guess I’m lucky he didn’t do his other specialty, which involves hot dogs and mac-and-cheese — entirely too reminiscent of those damned jelly-coated cows’ lips, er, Vienna sausages.
Anyway, I learned my lesson, and I vet all of his dinner choices beforehand, and bring backup food just in case he tries to pull a fast one. Meanwhile, I’ve developed a more regionally and taste-bud appropriate alternative to his Chili-Mac. I call it Mac-n-Chile. Here’s the recipe (serves one hungry person):
One box of Annie’s macaroni and cheese. I prefer the aged cheddar stuff, but any flavor will do.
One can of hot Hatch green chiles. Yes, you can bring fresh roasted chiles if you want, but that adds to the work and complexity and who wants all of that? The canned stuff is fine.
A liberal sprinkling of Cobblestone farm’s garlic powder. Oh, you want to buy the cheap grocery store stuff that has no flavor and is filled with anti-caking agents like silicon dioxide? Suit yourself! But if you want the best, you gotta go with Cobblestone Farms.
A touch of salt and olive oil or butter.
Follow the instructions on the box, but salt the pasta water (they don’t put enough salt in those cheese packets), and add some olive oil or butter when mixing in the dried cheese. Dump in the green chiles and a liberal sprinkling of garlic powder — more is better. Pour yourself a beverage of your choice, sit down on your camp chair, truck’s tailgate, or a slab of sandstone, and devour it.
Oh, and keep your eyes open for those hummingbirds. I hear they’re buzzing about the canyon country these days.
One good thing the Trump administration’s and the GOP’s attack on public lands has brought about is more attention to public lands and the sometimes arcane policies governing them. When I started the Land Desk back in 2021, it was one of the only Substack-like outlets focusing on public lands issues; now there are more than a dozen of them, put out by journalists, quasi-journalists, and advocacy groups — with a fair amount of overlap. Meanwhile, more conventional media outlets have also beefed up their public lands coverage since Trump took office.
I’m all for it — a well informed public makes for a stronger democracy — but it does have a major downside. There has been a noticeable increase in disinformation and misinformation and simply erroneous coverage of the issues and, especially, of the potential effects of the administration’s actions. The motives are surely mixed, ranging from honest misunderstandings to the writer trying to simplify complex issues for the average reader. Maybe they feel that the nuanced reality won’t rally the troops as effectively as hyperbolic alarmism. Maybe they know that outrage is more likely than mere concern to garner clicks, subscriptions, and donations.
While I understand the need to get people fired up about these issues and actions — most of which should indeed be stopped — I also worry that writing one’s congress member or commenting to the federal agencies based on erroneous information will be ineffective or even counterproductive. The truth in most of these cases is bad enough. Let’s just stick with it. Please?
Here are a few examples of what’s got my goat:
The claim: Revoking Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument’s management plan will open up nearly 900,000 acres of the monument to oil and gas drilling, coal extraction, and uranium mining.
The messier reality: MAGA Sen. Mike Lee’s and Rep. Celeste Maloy’s attempts to use the Congressional Review Act to revoke Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument’s management plan is abhorrent, stupid, and is done out of spite rather than for any pragmatic reasons. If they succeed, the monument’s management will revert back to the far weaker 2020 plan that allowed more grazing, more damaging “vegetation management,” and more off-road vehicle use. Plus the 2020 plan only covered the 1 million acres left in the national monument after Trump removed about 900,000 acres from its boundaries, meaning there would be a sort of management limbo on those 900,000 acres.
However, rescinding the plan will not eliminate or shrink the national monument or its basic protections, nor will it allow drilling or mining or other development anywhere within the 1.9 million acre national monument. The boundaries will remain the same, which means that the terms set in the 2021 proclamation restoring them also remain in effect1, and that includes no new oil and gas or coal leases or mining claims within the national monument.
Furthermore, the claims about grazing have been exaggerated as well. The 2020 plan allowed grazing in all but 125,800 acres of the national monument, but did not allow it right along the Escalante River or in Lower Calf Canyon, and it would have allowed suspended allotments to be reissued (if a rancher wanted them). The 2024 plan put 314,700 acres off-limits to grazing — including bigger buffers around the Escalante River — and would have permanently retired suspended allotments.
The claim:Moving the U.S. Forest Service headquarters to Salt Lake City, “the beating heart of the anti-public-lands movement in America,” will lead to a mass selloff of public lands and is part of an “execution” of the agency.
The messy reality: Look, I know that Utah politicians are kooky and that they don’t like the idea of federal land management. I wrote a whole damned book about it. But that doesn’t mean that once you cross the border into Utah you become a raving sagebrush rebel. There are pros and cons to moving a federal agency to the West, but it’s not like Phil Lyman, Mike Lee, Celeste Maloy, Ken Ivory, and the ghost of Cal Black are going to have more influence over the agency’s HQ in SLC than they would in D.C. Nor is the relocation, alone, going to lead to public land sales. Utah happens to be home to strong public lands advocacy and environmental groups, including SUWA, Grow the Flow, Utah Rivers Council, HEAL Utah, Uranium Watch, Torrey House Press, and others. Salt Lake City is more progressive politically than many cities in blue states. Over the last three decades it has elected liberal mayors and other city leaders, including climate, human rights, and air quality activists.
Instead of fear-mongering over Utah, maybe we should be focused on the severe budget cuts plaguing the Forest Service, the loss of thousands of staffers and their deep well of institutional knowledge, its growing inability to manage lands under its purview regardless of where it’s headquartered, along with policies aimed at increasing logging and grazing on the nation’s forests. That’s the real danger.
The mislead:Almost every story or blog post or call to action regarding the administration’s move to rescind the oil and gas leasing moratorium in the area around Chaco Culture National Historical Park is accompanied by a photo of Pueblo Bonito, Casa Rinconada, or another site inside the park itself.
The messy reality: This is misleading because it gives the impression that those structures will now be open to drilling. That’s not the case. The park and the pueblos in it retain their protections no matter what happens with the moratorium. The leasing ban is for a ten mile radius outside the park boundaries, which is, indeed, a very significant cultural landscape, replete with Chacoan “roads,” outlier pueblos and great houses, shrines, and other sites — and absolutely should be protected from energy development. This is an innocent mistake: The sites in “downtown Chaco” are not only photogenic, but most outlets probably can’t find stock images of the sites that could be wrecked by drilling if the moratorium is lifted. Still, they could ask me …
So yes, write to your congress member, protest, write letters to the editor, and send your two cents to your public lands agencies. But please, base your protests and suggestions and recommendations on facts, not on outrage-inciting hyperbole or speculation.
The Shootaring uranium mill near Ticaboo, Utah. Anfield says it plans to restart the facility. Built in 1980, the facility ran for only six months or so before shutting down. It has remained idle ever since. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
⛏️ Mining Monitor ⛏️
If nuclear reactors could run on hype, alone, then we’d have plenty of power for all of those hyperscale data centers in the pipeline. The optimistic, gold-rushesque press releases about new uranium mining claims, acquisitions, and exploration just keep coming, giving the impression that there is a nuclear renaissance underway in the West. Maybe there is, sort of, but it hasn’t made it to the uranium mining space yet.
The one substantial move forward was the Nuclear Regulatory Commission granting a construction license to Bill Gates-backed Terra Power, allowing it to begin building its Natrium advanced reactor in Kemmerer, Wyoming. It’s a big deal, but the company doesn’t expect to bring the plant online until 2030, at least, and will still need an operating license to do so.
It will take more than one reactor to bring the western Colorado and eastern Utah uranium mining industry back to anywhere near its Cold War-era glory days, though that’s not stopping mining firms from courting investors.
Some of the latest hype includes:
American Atomics’ website banner is an image of Monument Valley, where Diné miners worked Cold War-era uranium mines with virtually no safety measures or protective equipment, despite industry and government knowledge of the occupational hazards. Many of those workers eventually fell sick and died from exposure to radon and other substances in the mine. Now the company hopes to “reshape how nations fuel their power grids and defend their energy sovereignty” by building a “fully American-controlled nuclear fuel cycle, from exploration and extraction to enrichment and supply.” They hope to seed the effort with the 217-claim Big Indian project in the Lisbon Valley in cooperation with a company run by Mark Steen, the son of Charles Steen. American Atomics also has a block of mining claims in the Uravan uranium belt in western Colorado.
After abandoning its proposal to use high-pressure slurry ablation, or HPSA, to extract uranium from the October waste rock pile near Gateway, Colorado, Disa applied to do the same on the smaller Mary Ann pile in Montrose County. On April 22, the NRC replied to Disa with a request for more information. Disa filed an amendment to its application on May 14.
Anfield Energy submitted a permit to restart its long-idle JD-8 mine located on a mesa south of the Paradox Valley in western Colorado. This is part of an effort to restart its entire Monogram Mesa Complex, which consists of five inactive facilities. The company claims it plans on being permitted and starting production in mid-2026. If it hits its target, however, it doesn’t appear to have a place to mill the ore. While it says it plans to restart the Shootaring Mill near Ticaboo, Utah, the state hasn’t issued a permit for it to do so. However, Anfield did apparently drill monitoring wells at the Shootaring Mill and at its Slick Rock project near the western Colorado hamlet of the same name.
Anfield, as you may remember, is the company behind the Velvet-Wood uranium mine in the Lisbon Valley. The same one the Trump administration dramatically fast-tracked permitting for to help solve the so-called “energy emergency.” Well, Anfield did do some work at the mine, but they still don’t have state air quality, ventilation shaft, or groundwater remediation permits, meaning actual production is a long ways off. That must be some emergency, eh?
The Velvet Wood-Mine as it appeared in May 2026. Without critical state permits, they won’t be solving the energy emergency anytime too soon. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
1 It’s worth remembering that restored GSENM was managed by the Trump-era plan for the three years between when Biden restored the monument in 2021, and when the new management plan went into effect in 2024.
The energy-efficient desalination system produces fresh water without chemical additives and transforms leftover salts into useful materials.
Big takeaways
A new desalination method produces drinking water from seawater without chemical additives.
The solar-powered system uses specially engineered black metal to absorb sunlight.
Its self-cleaning surface separates and collects salts, instead of dumping them as harmful brine waste.
From the salts, the system can extract lithium, a key material for rechargeable batteries.
The approach could help address global water shortages and growing mineral demand.
The United Nations estimates that 2.2 billion people lack safely managed drinking water, and communities from California to the Middle East rely on desalination plants to convert ocean water to fresh water. Common desalination techniques, such as reverse osmosis and thermal distillation, are energy-intensive, require pre- and post-water treatment, and leave behind a concentrated saltwater byproduct called brine. The brine byproduct wreaks havoc on sea life when it’s deposited back into the ocean by raising the salt level and lowering oxygen in the water.
But a novel approach developed at the University of Rochester offers a way to overcome these drawbacks. Researchers at URochester’s Institute of Optics developed a new solar-thermal desalination process to produce fresh water in an energy-efficient way that does not leave behind brine and requires no chemical additives to pre-treat the water. A team led by Chunlei Guo, a professor of optics and of physics and a senior scientist at URochester’s Laboratory for Laser Energetics, describes their method in a paper published in Light: Science & Applications.
Vials of l-r: seawater, Great Salt Lake water, nickel and phosphorus waste, and desalinated water along with evaporated salt are pictured in the lab of University of Rochester professor Chunlei Guo April 8, 2026. Guo and his team have a paper coming out in Light: Science and Applications that describes new solar-powered ocean water desalination devices he engineered that feature his superwicking laser-etched black metal. The devices are highly efficient compared to current desalination methods and the new process doesn’t produce the brine waste that current methods do. The process takes ocean water (they collected smaples from three continents) and breaks it down into fresh water and salts. // photo by J. Adam Fenster / University of Rochester
The technology uses solar panels made of black metal etched with femtosecond lasers to make the surface super light-absorbing and superwicking—or extremely attractive to water. The panels have a laser-treated active region that pulls a thin layer of water across the surface, absorbs nearly all solar radiation, distills the water, and deposits the leftover salts and minerals into the panel’s untreated sides or “passive” region so that the salt does not clog the active region and disrupt continuous desalination.
Leveraging the ‘coffee ring’ effect
Guo says other researchers have developed solar-thermal desalination techniques that work well in lab experiments using simulated seawater made of only water and sodium chloride. As the water evaporates, the sodium chloride crystallizes in a grainy and porous fashion allowing water to pass through to dissolve the salt. The solar panels, meanwhile, can be easily cleaned.
But real ocean has a much more complex composition, and these systems tend to encounter issues when tested in the field. Unlike sodium chloride, many other components in seawater, such as magnesium- and calcium-based materials, crystallize in a crusty and non-porous fashion on the solar panel’s surface, clogging it. Eventually, water can no longer seep through. This is the same phenomenon as your shower head clogging over time or your teapot lined with scales, except that seawater contains hundreds of times more salts than your tap water.
To keep their solar panel surface from gumming up similarly, Guo’s team precisely etched the black metal’s grooves so the various salts and minerals in ocean water would simply slough off. They also leveraged a physical phenomenon that has plagued clumsy javaphiles for centuries: the coffee ring effect.
“If you drop coffee on a surface, eventually the water evaporates, and there’s a ring left at the outer edge that is the concentrated coffee particles,” says Guo. “We use that same principle to advance the salts to the passive region.”
Testing their solar-thermal desalination technique using samples of water from the Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian Oceans, Guo and his team were able to make the surface self-cleaning. In other words, it extracted freshwater and directed the remaining salts to the passive region where they could be later collected without reducing the panel’s efficiency.
Vials of l-r: seawater, Great Salt Lake water, Nickel(II) sulfate (NiSO4) and Copper(II) chloride wastewater, and desalinated water along with evaporated salt are pictured in the lab of University of Rochester professor Chunlei Guo April 8, 2026. Guo and his team have a paper coming out in Light: Science and Applications that describes new solar-powered ocean water desalination devices he engineered that feature his superwicking laser-etched black metal. The devices are highly efficient compared to current desalination methods and the new process doesn’t produce the brine waste that current methods do. The process takes ocean water (they collected smaples from three continents) and breaks it down into fresh water and salts. // photo by J. Adam Fenster / University of Rochester
Turning waste into resources
One of the new desalination method’s distinct advantages is that instead of leaving behind brine that must be disposed of or processed, it extracts nearly 100 percent of the salts in solid form. This could not only produce an abundant supply of table salt, but it could also be used to extract more precious minerals, including lithium, which is used in the lithium-ion batteries that power electric vehicles and other electronics.
In a related paper in the Journal of Materials Chemistry A, Guo and his colleagues show how they can use the same superwicking solar panels to separate lithium from the rest of other salts in desalination. Embedding nanoparticles made of hydrogen titanate in the tiny grooves of the black metal surface isolates the lithium from other salts and minerals.
“Mining lithium from the earth has proven to be very taxing from an energy and environmental standpoint, so pulling lithium directly from saltwater could be a very important future route,” says Guo.
Using water samples from Great Salt Lake, the researchers extracted about 50 percent of the lithium from the salts left behind by the desalination process.
Guo says now that the superwicking desalination technology has been demonstrated in proofs of concept on small-scale devices, he sees the technology inherently scalable, capable of improving global access to drinking water and building more sustainable supply chains for precious minerals.
The National Science Foundation, the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, and Worldwide Universities Network supported this research. Guo’s colleagues from the Institute of Optics who contributed to the research include Senior Scientist Subash Singh, alumnus Ran Wei ’24 (PhD), PhD students Luheng Tang and Tainshu Xu, and Mingjiang Ma.
Each stage of a big construction project has its own challenges and puzzles to solve along the way. Raising Gross Dam is no different.
Denver Water is raising the height of the dam by 131 feet, with the final 22 feet going up this spring in two sections that are separated by a giant gap. The Gross Reservoir Expansion Project, which began construction in 2022, is designed to nearly triple the reservoir’s storage capacity. Major construction work resumed in April following a winter break.
And this year’s construction puzzles included:
How to move concrete across a 160-foot gap between where the concrete is made and where it’s placed?
And, how do you move construction vehicles across that same gap when work on the first section is finished?
“We are building the top of the dam in two sections because we need to leave a 160-foot gap in the middle of the dam for the spillway channel,” said Casey Dick, Denver Water’s deputy program manager for the Gross Reservoir Expansion Project.
Denver Water is building the last 22 feet of Gross Dam in two sections. The photo shows the left side at its new height. The right side’s last 22 feet will be finished in June. Photo credit: Denver Water.
Spillway channels are safety features on dams that allow water to safely flow out of a reservoir if needed due to flooding rains or exceptionally high and rapid snowmelt.
Raising the dam’s last two major sections, while leaving a 160-foot gap between them, meant coming up with a new way to move concrete across the construction site.
On the lower portion of the dam, crews worked on one continuous structure, which allowed trucks and equipment to easily move from one side of the dam to the other, and to move concrete from the batch plant down a large chute to where it was put into place.
However, with the final 22 feet going up in two sections, construction crews had to find a way to deliver concrete from the batch plant and across the 160-foot spillway gap as the first section went up.
The solution to this puzzle? A series of conveyors positioned in the middle of the dam that tilted higher as the first section rose higher.
“Building the new conveyor system is just another example of all the ingenuity we go through out here to build the dam,” Dick said. “With each new phase, there are new challenges that our team has to figure out.”
The new conveyor system moved concrete across the gap where the spillway channel will be to the far side of the dam. Photo credit: Denver Water.
Construction crews finished placing roller-compacted concrete on the dam’s left side on May 12.
But once that was done, crews faced the second challenge: How do you move the equipment off the finished, 22-foot higher section of the dam, across the spillway gap, down to where they are needed to complete the second section?
Short answer: If you can’t go over, go around.
Cranes lifted equipment off the higher section of the dam to the road, where the machines convoyed about 4.5 miles around to the other side using the dam’s access road.
A crane lifts a piece of equipment off the dam. Because of the new spillway gap, equipment was driven across the dam’s access road to get into position on the other side of the dam. Photo credit: Denver Water.
Construction on the final 22 feet of the second side of the dam began at the end of May and is expected to be completed in June.
Once the second section is done this summer, a year’s worth of remaining work includes: finishing the top of the dam, building safety walls; constructing the actual spillway; building a bridge over the spillway and completing the stilling basin at the bottom of the dam.
This view from the bottom of the dam shows the new baffle blocks on the bottom of the stilling basin. The baffle blocks reduce the energy of the water that flows down the spillway. Photo credit: Denver Water.
Full construction on the dam raising project is expected to wrap up in mid-2027.
“There are hundreds of logistical challenges throughout this project, but our team has been able to meet every one of them along the way,” Dick said. “We’re making good progress so far in 2026 and are looking forward to getting a lot of work done in the coming months.”
The Gross Reservoir Expansion Project involves raising the height of the existing dam by 131 feet. The dam will be built out and will have “steps” made of roller-compacted concrete to reach the new height. Image credit: Denver Water
A mini-sandstorm partially obscures the Bullfrog Marina on Lake Powell. Dropping reservoir levels are forcing officials to move the marina to a deeper part of the lake. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Maybe sitting next to the wall of plate glass windows was not the smartest move, I thought, as a sienna-colored cloud of sand lifted up from the lakeside and made its way in my direction. I had just tucked into my $16 grilled chicken sandwich at the Anasazi Restaurant at Bullfrog Marina on Lake Powell when the wind kicked up, sandblasting the windows and causing a sizable milk crate to slide back and forth along the railings of the patio outside. It was an eerie scene. Had this been an apocalyptic cli-fi film set in a calamitously aridified West, this would have been the moment when a pterodactyl-like creature smashed through the window and plopped down all bloody and sandy in my plate of fries, an omen of the horrors to come.
It was not, however, a film. The dystopian scene was real as was the aridification, though it did not include any prehistoric creatures — only a handful of staff and other diners who, much to my dismay, seemed utterly unperturbed by the sandstorm and the havoc it was wreaking on a set of outdoor furniture. And, outside, a few ravens who seemed delighted to frolic in the gusts’ updrafts.
When we think of climate change’s effects, we might imagine communities inundated by rising seas, unhoused folks exposed to ever more severe heat waves, or entire towns wiped out by megafires. I was here at Bullfrog to see how a warmer and drier climate is affecting the communities, infrastructure, and economies that rose up around and depend upon Lake Powell-based recreation.
Bullfrog is the largest and most extensive marina on Lake Powell’s northern end. It has a 48-room hotel, the aforementioned restaurant, a gas station and convenience store, an RV park, and other lodging, along with its own school, which this year had four students in grades K-6. The population of some 50 to 100 consists mostly of employees of the National Park Service and Aramark, the private concessionaire that runs the reservoir’s marinas and other facilities. Nearby Ticaboo, which lies outside Glen Canyon National Recreation Area but also relies on Lake Powell recreation, has another 50 to 100 residents. The nearest incorporated town is Hanksville, some 67 miles to the north.
Bullfrog Creek along the southern end of the Burr Trail and Bullfrog Bay on Lake Powell in the distance. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Bullfrog lies at the end of the road on a bay at the mouth of Bullfrog Creek, where the water is shallower than on the main channel of the Colorado River, making the marina and its facilities more vulnerable to dropping water levels. While the main boat ramp is still being used, it will likely become unusable later this summer as the reservoir’s surface levels falls toward 3,500 feet. In coming weeks, the entire floating marina will be towed across the reservoir to deeper water adjacent to Halls Crossing Marina; Bullfrog’s fuel and boat rental docks have already been moved. The ferry between Bullfrog and Halls Crossing isn’t functional at low water levels, so is expected to be out of commission for the rest of this year, making for a 145-mile car trip between the facilities at Bullfrog and the boat ramps and marina at Halls Crossing.
I visited Bullfrog on a Sunday in mid-May. Because I needed to do some internet-related work early on Monday morning, I stayed in the hotel. I initially regretted not staying in the campground, since it was mostly empty and had a strong cell phone signal, but when the tent-shredding winds and skin blasting sands kicked up I was happy to be ensconced in more secure lodging, especially given the relatively reasonable price.
It was the high tourist season elsewhere in Canyon Country. The trailhead parking lots at Capitol Reef National Park were all full or overflowing that morning as I drove through, and Torrey had been busy during my stay there for a writing conference. As I slowly made my way down the Notom Road and Burr Trail, stopping frequently to gaze at the curves and crevices in the Waterpocket Fold and for a quick bike ride, I saw maybe a half-dozen other vehicles.
Waterpocket Fold. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Waterpocket Fold detail. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Bullfrog, meanwhile, was decidedly quiet. The hotel was nearly empty. Only a few sites in the RV park were occupied, and I later saw that most of the sites were out of order and closed. A couple of dozen cars, at the very most, were parked on the only operable boat ramp. The shelves on the little convenience store were sparsely stocked, and a box of Triscuits was going for $7.50 — though there was no cheese to accompany them — and gas was selling for $5.17. In May of 2000, the Bullfrog District received 33,000 visits, according to National Park Service statistics; in May 2025 only 10,886 visitors passed through the entrance gate. Current numbers aren’t yet available, but I imagine this year’s visitation will be far lower. And once the boat ramp ceases to function, I imagine the numbers will plummet further.
Boats, redrock, and snowy Henry Mountains at Bullfrog Marina. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
The National Park Service is planning to build a new, deeper-water boat launch at Stanton Creek, a couple of miles from central Bullfrog, where the marina can be moved permanently. The project is expected to cost some $73 million, and won’t be completed this year. It’s a type of climate adaptation, I suppose, though one can’t help wonder how long the fix will last if the reservoir’s levels keep dropping.
Meanwhile, Bullfrog’s future is in doubt. A series of especially snowy winters in the high country might be enough to bring Bullfrog back from the edge of obsolescence. Maybe they won’t even need the Stanton Creek site. On the other hand, just one more below-average snowpack year could doom Lake Powell altogether. If Colorado River flows don’t increase substantially in the next year or two, the Bureau of Reclamation will have little choice but to build tunnels to bypass Glen Canyon Dam and effectively drain the reservoir in order to keep water running into the Grand Canyon and on to Lake Mead.
The question then would be whether Bullfrog could (or would even want to) adapt to a different sort of tourism.
The place might try to cater to hikers and small-watercraft users looking to check out newly revealed parts of Glen Canyon that have been inundated for the last several decades. And it could lure travelers exploring the greater region’s backcountry, though it’s not clear that type of visitor is going to be interested in the type of accommodations and services Bullfrog currently offers. Maybe it will just become a destination for disaster-tourist voyeurs looking to see the effects of climate change in real-time. Or, perhaps Bullfrog will become another Hite Marina, which the shrinking reservoir has left high and dry, its boat ramp separated from the lake by some six miles, the store and campground permanently shuttered and gated off.
Sightseers at Hite Overlook gazing down at the “Dominy Formation” of silt left behind by the receding waters of Lake Powell. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Hite Marina and boat ramp on what once was the northern end of Lake Powell. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
The last time I visited Bullfrog was in the late 1980s. My dad, my brother, and I camped at Halls Crossing, then woke up and rode the ferry across the lake. From there we made an epic loop around and over the Henry Mountains along the then-unimproved Burr Trail and another gnarly road in our 1967 Pontiac Catalina. It took at least eight hours and involved some extensive road-building to keep the boat-like vehicle from bottoming out. Anyway, I remember Bullfrog as being a bustling resort with a sort of spring break party vibe, relative to the more bare-bones Halls Crossing. Of course, those were the glory days for Lake Powell, when the reservoir was full, and at the end of a bone-jarring drive across the desert one could stop at the Hite Marina for refreshments.
That night I listened to the sand batter the sliding glass door of my hotel room. The next morning, the reservoir’s placid waters reflected dawn’s first light, and the distant sandstone dunes seemed to glow from within. And to the north, a fresh coating of snow covered the craggy slopes of the Henry Mountains, promising a little bit of relief from these dry and trying times.
Henry Mountains. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
📸 Parting Shots 🎞️
Early light, the Colorado River canyon, and the Henry Mountains from the White Canyon drainage. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Apache Plume and canyon in Utah. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Click the link to read the article on the Big Pivots website (Allen Best):
May 26, 2026
Dissonance exists between life-close-to-normal policies regarding urban water use and the growing crisis on the river
Casually surveying the urban landscapes in much of Colorado’s Front Range, you’d never know that the Colorado River — the source for roughly half the water of the cities — has deteriorated to its most pitiful shape of perhaps the last century.
Oh, yes, some utilities — notably Denver Water and Aurora Water, which together serve 1.9 million residents — have imposed rigorous stage-one drought watering restrictions. Outdoor irrigation is allowed twice per week and never during the heat of day. Other water utilities that tap Colorado River water, however, have asked only for voluntary cutbacks, if any at all.
Jeff Lukas via the Western Water Assessment.
Jeff Lukas, a water consultant with several decades invested in climate change work, says this seeming aloofness of some cities will not persist indefinitely. That is certainly true if the record heat and abnormal dryness of the past winter continues into 2027. They may have no choice.
“I think Front Range cities will be asked, whether nicely or not, to reduce their Colorado River diversions,” said Lukas in a May 11 webinar. “The mechanism for that is unclear, but I think it’s going to happen.”
Water rights of the Front Range cities — and many of those on the Western Slope, too — are junior to the Colorado River Compact. It was negotiated in 1922, making diversions more recent than that junior.
Problems in the basin were becoming apparent in the 1990s. The warming climate in this century has provoked changes. By all accounts, they have not been enough.
Lukas, as a dendrochronologist at the Institute of Alpine and Arctic Research in Boulder 20 years ago, was teasing out evidence from tree rings to understand the climates of the Colorado River Basin during the last 1,200 years.
Later, as a scientist with the Western Water Assessment, Lukas co-authored (with Liz Peyton) a 2020 report called Colorado River Basin Climate and Hydrology: State of the Science. That 500-page report integrated more than 800peer-reviewed studies to help water managers understand physical processes, climate risks, and forecasting tools across the basin.
In 2024, with the state climatologist, Russ Schumacher, and several others, Lukas turned out the 100-page volume called “Climate Change in Colorado.”
Based in Lafayette, Lukas now works as a consultant. At Lukas Climate Research and Consulting, he specializes in the overlapping areas of climate hazards, water resources, and ecosystems.
Lukas, in a presentation he titled “Running dry on the Colorado River: The roots of the crisis & its implications for the Front Range,” explained the big picture and Colorado’s Front Range part in it.
Defined by the Continental Divide, Colorado has an inverse relationship between its eastern and western slopes. About 90% of the state’s residents live to the east, nearly all at the foot of the Rocky Mountains, whereas 80% of the state’s precipitation originates on the west side, in the headwaters of the Colorado River and its tributaries.
Snow from the Gore Range and other “islands” of precipitation in Colorado provide 50% to 60% of the water in the Colorado River. Photo credit: Allen Best/Big Pivots
Colorado itself provides 50% to 60% of the water in the entire Colorado River, depending upon the year. This year has been a terrible year everywhere in the basin, Colorado included.
Lukas explained that “islands of moisture” provide nearly all the water in this 244,000-square-mile basin. The high mountains constitute these islands. Some places deliver more than others. Buffalo Pass, near Steamboat, famously has had prodigious volumes of snow. This snow, when melted, can produce 50 inches of water.
It takes 20 inches or more of precipitation in these mountain islands to produce meaningful runoff. Even then, it doesn’t all end up in the Colorado River. In Colorado and the three upper-basin states, he said, 16% of the rain and snow that falls becomes water in the Colorado River. In the hotter lower basin, the figure is 3%.
“The atmosphere takes back most of what it giveth, even in the wetter upper basin,” he said.
Evaporation and transpiration are the pickpockets of this water. Heat produces evaporation, and we’ve had plenty of that this year.
Temperatures during November through April were the warmest on record in Colorado for that span of months. March heat was exceptional. This produced runoff in the rivers that in most cases may surpass that of May or June, the traditional times for peak runoff. Peak runoff has been trending earlier by several weeks during the last few decades, but this was a leap of about two months.
Runoff for April through July — a time that normally accounts for 70% to 80% of annual streamflows — this year will likely deliver no better than 20% to 40%. In its May report, the Bureau of Reclamation said April flows into Lake Powell were 40% of the average during the last 30 years and it expects flows in May to sink to 9% of that average.
Can it get any worse? Count on it, said Lukas.
“We should expect not every year to look like 2026 from here on out, but more years in the future will look like 2026. And somewhere down the pipe, not as far in the future as we would like, there will be a year worse than 2026 for the Colorado River.”
Members of the Colorado River Commission, in Santa Fe in 1922, after signing the Colorado River Compact. From left, W. S. Norviel (Arizona), Delph E. Carpenter (Colorado), Herbert Hoover (Secretary of Commerce and Chairman of Commission), R. E. Caldwell (Utah), Clarence C. Stetson (Executive Secretary of Commission), Stephen B. Davis, Jr. (New Mexico), Frank C. Emerson (Wyoming), W. F. McClure (California), and James G. Scrugham (Nevada) CREDIT: COLORADO STATE UNIVERSITY WATER RESOURCES ARCHIVE via Aspen Journalism
This is so very different from what was assumed by the delegates from the seven basin states who gathered in 1922 in Santa Fe to apportion the Colorado River.
The role of reservoirs
Taking the big, long-term view, Lukas pointed out that the overall story of the Colorado River is one of modifications needed to suit human uses. “It’s all about smoothing out the natural variability in the availability of water over space and over time.”
Reservoirs are the primary means by which humans have been able to “smooth out the natural variability.”
The Colorado River Basin has 60 million acre-feet of storage. That’s four times the annual flow. Five-sixths of the storage capacity is found in the desert in two vessels: lakes Mead and Powell. The headwaters have many reservoirs but they are relatively small. The total storage capacity is 2,000 times more than the volume of Dillon Reservoir.
Illustration from the report, “Antique Plumbing & Leadership Postponed” from the Utah Rivers Council, Glen Canyon Institute and the Great Basin Water Network. Courtesy of Utah Rivers Council
Since 2000, stored water in those two big buckets, Mead and Powell, has declined from 49 million acre-feet to 16 million acre-feet as of May. Of that, 9 million lies at elevations below the lowest outlets. These are called dead pools.
Those delegates in 1922 who crafted the Colorado River Compact, the legal document that provided the basis for nearly all these dams and aqueducts subsequently built, assumed annual flows of 17 million to 18 million acre-feet. They were overly optimistic. The 20th century average was 15.2 million acre-feet.
Now comes the 21st century, and the average at Lee Ferry has dipped to 12.2 million acre-feet. This has implications for the Front Range cities but also farms. If Colorado must reduce its diversions to accord with the compact, those rights dated before 1922 will be exempt from reductions. The giant transmountain diversions have come more recently, as have many of the diversions for towns and cities on the Western Slope.
Accumulating evidence fingers human-caused climate change with large amounts of responsibility for declined flows. Lukas said his rule of thumb is that the role of greenhouse gases overall are responsible for two-thirds of lower flows.
Colorado statewide annual temperature anomaly (°F) with respect to the 1901-2000 average. Graphic credit: Colorado Climate Center
As for the mechanics of this shift, rising heat is one important “knob,” said Lukas. As the atmosphere warms, it reduces “runoff efficiency” even more, sending water into the atmosphere instead of into streams and then rivers. Accumulating evidence fingers human-caused climate change with responsibility for most and possibly all of increased temperatures.
Precipitation has declined about 5% since 2000, with a larger reduction in spring, an important time of year to get moisture. Here, the link to the warming climate is less clear. “It seems increasingly likely that climate change is changing the dynamics of storm tracks and the persistence of, say, high-pressure systems over the interior West,” said Lukas. “That is, at least in part, responsible for why we’ve had less precipitation since 2000.”
The Colorado River, though, had problems even before the warming climate began throwing sharp elbows in water volumes. The reservoirs of the Colorado River Basin were 92% full in 1999, a wet decade overall. Even then, however, the Colorado River had ceased to reach the Pacific Ocean. There were too many straws inserted.
Less than 12% of the river’s flow goes to urbanized and industrial uses. Lukas pointed out that cities have become more efficient in their use of water. The rule of thumb for Denver and other Western cities is that one acre-feet of water meets the needs of a three households on an annual basis. That compares with two households a few decades ago.
Mining of fossil fuels and minerals uses a small amount. Evaporation from reservoirs and rivers and other “system losses” accounts for about 15%.
That takes us to agriculture. It uses 75% of the river’s water in the Colorado River for irrigation on 5 million acres. Some of that land lies outside the basin itself. That includes the South Platte and Arkansas River valleys of eastern Colorado.
Over half of that water — about 9 million acre-feet — gets used to grow feed for livestock, mainly alfalfa and pasture grass.
Might cities want to cut deals with farmers to “share” the water? This discussion has been underway for at least 15 to 20 years. Some pilot projects in Colorado and elsewhere have been launched to see what this might look like. A strong proponent has been James Eklund, a water attorney in Denver. Others question how this is done and, for that matter, whether we want to do it. But certainly, water for urban uses has higher monetary value than growing hay to feed cattle.
Why the restraint of cities?
As for the Front Range cities, the big question is whether they are planning for a river that produces even less than it does now.
In 2024, Andy Mueller, the general manager of the Colorado River Water Conservation District, suggested the need to start planning for a river that may deliver less than 10 million acre-feet in coming decades. Some thought then that the state engineer, Jason Ullman, needed to start sorting through this matter of junior vs. senior rights. Jim Lochhead, a former water attorney on the Western Slope and later CEO of Denver Water, pushed back, saying it was premature given the huge amount of work that would be required. See: “Heading for the Colorado River Cliff,” Big Pivots, Oct. 20, 2024.
At the Zoom session on May 11, I asked Lukas about the modest watering restrictions by Front Range water providers. He had previously described mixed signals from the water utilities. If 2027 is dry again, expect more uniformity around drought restrictions. “But it’s pretty weird right now,” he said.
With the attention to the Colorado River in the news media, it seemed like a perfect opportunity for the water utilities to mount more aggressive campaigns. Any idea why they had not, I wondered.
The utilities, he said, are reluctant to deliver regulations that produce discomfort around outdoor water-use restrictions. They don’t want to do this unless absolutely necessary.
Part of this is because of experiences during the covid epidemic. A lesson to public servants during that time made them more reluctant to push the public to do things they don’t want to do. “You only want to exercise that authority, that public legal authority, sparingly and only when it’s clear that is what is really necessary.”
Revenue was another consideration. Water infrastructure is expensive, and the money to pay for it comes from charges for water use. By imposing limits, you reduce revenue and hence must charge more for water. The conundrum is that reducing use doesn’t necessarily mean you pay less. In some cases, less water may require more infrastructure. This is a hard message to convey.
“What you’re seeing is a dissonance between the circumstances and what’s happening, at least this year,” he said.
Or at least right now. We have had rainy weather in May. Some meteorologists think we may end up with healthy rainfall this summer. If instead the summer is like the winter, very hot and dry, I expect the utilities might pick up their game.
View of Shoshone Hydroelectric Plant construction in Glenwood Canyon (Garfield County) Colorado; shows the Colorado River, the dam, sheds, a footbridge, and the workmen’s camp. Creator: McClure, Louis Charles, 1867-1957. Credit: Denver Public Library Digital Collections
Click the link to read the article on The Denver Post website (Elise Schmelzer). Here’s an excerpt:
May 22, 2026
For more than a year, the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation has withheld $40 million awarded to the Colorado River District for the purchase of the water rights attached to Xcel Energy’s aging Shoshone Power Plant in Glenwood Canyon. The release of the federal funding brings the total amount secured for the purchase to $97 million — just shy of the $99 million needed for the project. For years, the river district — a taxpayer-funded agency based in Glenwood Springs that works to protect Western Slope water — has worked to purchase the rights from the utility. Its leaders want to ensure that, even in dry years, the billions of gallons of water the rights command continue to flow west through the canyon and to the communities, wildlife habitats and farms downstream. The district and other Western Slope entities feared the certainty of the flows would be threatened if another purchaser — like a Front Range utility — were able to snag the rights first. The purchase is a “once-in-a-generation” investment in securing Western Slope water supplies, said Andy Mueller, the general manager of the Colorado River District, in a news release Friday. The federal dollars will add to the $20 million contributed by the Colorado Water Conservation Board and the $37 million raised by the district from Western Slope governments, organizations and irrigators.
“This award is a major breakthrough in our coalition’s effort to permanently secure historic flows on the Colorado River,” he said…
The federal funding brings the Shoshone water rights deal — originally inked in 2023 — one step closer to completion. Xcel Energy still needs approval for the sale from Colorado’s public utility regulators, and the river district m
Water influences every aspect of our lives through a delicate cycle that transforms liquid water into vapor and back again.
As the Earth warms, more of that precipitation is arriving in intense storms that deliver more water than the landscape can handle. When storms drop a few inches of rain over a few days, the water sinks into the soil, nourishing plants and replenishing groundwater. But during heavy downpours, the rain can’t sink in fast enough, and much of the water runs off instead, often fueling flooding.
Water also evaporates faster in warmer temperatures. So, despite an increase in total annual precipitation nationally, the landscape is drying out more rapidly as temperatures rise, resulting in more severe and frequent droughts.
I’m a hydrologist at UMass Amherst. My colleagues and I are documenting these broad shifts and what they mean for the future of the terrestrial hydrological cycle – the water cycle on land – and the people and ecosystems that depend on it. The effects are occurring across climates around the world.
A hydrological cycle out of sync
Fundamentally, the terrestrial hydrological cycle is controlled by two things: precipitation that adds moisture to the ground and evapotranspiration, meaning water that evaporates either from the land back into the atmosphere or from plants releasing it through their leaves.
During heavy precipitation in the U.S. Northeast, water is rapidly routed through the shallow subsurface rather than reaching deeper soil and groundwater storage. Julianna C Huba, et al., 2026
When this balance shifts or becomes out of sync with its natural state, it affects how water moves through the landscape. And that directly influences where water is available and how much is there.
These shifts in precipitation are occurring alongside longer growing seasons that allow the land to accumulate more heat. As temperatures rise, drier air also pulls more water from the landscape, increasing the risk of drought.
The changing timing of precipitation can result in counterintuitive feedbacks, as recent studies in the Northeast have shown.
In one study, scientists at Harvard Forest found that more intense storms are delivering greater amounts of water at rates exceeding the soil’s capacity to retain it. For example, in 2023 they found that high-intensity events in their research area made up about 42% of the year’s total precipitation.
This effect from bursts of heavy rain with dry periods in between shows up in data. My research group at UMass found in a separate study that while wet years in the Northeast are becoming more frequent, dry years are also becoming more frequent.
Data collected by scientists with Harvard Forest, near Petersham, Mass., from 1964 to 2023 shows how precipitation has been increasing, with a large percentage of it coming from downpours. Samuel Jurado and Jackie Matthes, 2025, CC BY-NC-SA
During the wettest years over the past decade, we found an accumulation of approximately 2 inches of water in the shallow ground, contributing to higher water tables, more frequent flooding and damage to infrastructure during heavy rainstorms.
Many states are now incorporating climate science into decisions about infrastructure and land use to better understand the risks ahead. Massachusetts, for example, created a climate data clearinghouse to make research and data widely available. It also invested in computer models to examine potential future scenarios of water storage on the landscape so communities and farmers can prepare.
Communities can boost their resilience to extreme storms with urban designs and construction that take flood risk into account, include careful drainage as more areas are paved and add features such as rain gardens, riverside parks and bioswales that move and hold more water where needed.
To manage dry years, communities can implement conservation measures, such as limiting outdoor watering, subsidizing low-flow toilets and showers, and using water pricing to encourage more careful use. They can also teach residents how to use less water and generally be more mindful of water use.
On a larger scale, a new study using computer models indicates that more aggressive efforts to reduce the drivers of climate change – particularly reducing greenhouse gas emissions from burning fossil fuels – can reverse the trend of extreme precipitation, eventually returning to rates seen in the 20th century.
Until that happens, however, the world will have to adapt to a changing hydrological cycle.
The cover of a new book I’ve just published, Storm in My Head, a collection of poetry written over the 60 years I’ve been living in the headwaters of the Colorado River, since 1966 — George Sibley
This is the cover of a new book I’ve just published, Storm in My Head, a collection of poetry written over the 60 years I’ve been living in the headwaters of the Colorado River, since 1966. My 60-year celebration. Those of you who prefer your literature in sprints and strolls over the marathon essays I impose on you might enjoy this book. I’m in the process of getting it distributed, and it may eventually be in a bookstore near you or on Amazon; but for the time being, if you are interested, an email to me, george@gard-sibley.org, will initiate a response on how to get a little money to me (10 bucks plus shipping) to get an inscribed copy wending its way to you.
End of advertisement – back to the river….
Romancing the River – Elephants in the River
The Colorado River situation is moving toward replacing the existing ‘Interim Guidelines’ for managing the river system with a new set of interim guidelines for managing the river system. This new set is devised mostly by the Bureau of Reclamation, which is growing a little desperate to avoid the embarrassment of having its river system cause the flow of the river to stop – ‘dead pool’ – behind one or another of its big dams, in a river management system built for a considerably larger Colorado River – now as mythic a river as the biblical four that flowed out of the Garden of Eden.
All this makes me think I’ll briefly abandon my historical update of Frederick Dellenbaugh’s Romance of the Colorado River, and try to sort through what has been happening recently in the present, most of which we’ve been reading or hearing about in the media.
Reports on the river’s flow after the Weirdest Winter Ever (at least in recorded time) have just gotten worse and worse; now the anticipated inflow to Powell Reservoir is 13 percent of the thirty-year average, from tributary runoffs that peaked as much as two months earlier than the usual early June. The Bureau of Reclamation’s 24-month projection indicates that, if last year’s releases from Powell were replicated this year, they might have to stop generating power by late summer to protect the power turbines – which in effect declares the remaining quarter of the reservoir’s potential storage ‘dead pool,’ since the only other way past Glen Canyon Dam is through four outflow tubes of questionable viability that the Bureau would like to use as little as possible.
The Bureau will address this with two emergency measures: first, by bringing a large quantity of stored water down the Green River from Flaming Gorge Reservoir, and second, by cutting releases from Powell Reservoir by close to two million acre-feet (maf) – which in turn will leave Mead Reservoir lower and diminish its power generation. This is an emergency plan that can nowise be considered long-range planning.
The Lower Basin states in turn have bumped up their willingness to take more shortages for the next couple years by roughly doubling shortages they have already agreed to accept – if the feds will pay them something for not using water that is not there. Their earlier cuts were basically just enough to finally start taking out of their individual allotments the system losses (mostly evaporation) they have been dismissing, with Bureau cooperation, as being met through ‘surplus flows’ that effectively disappeared when the Central Arizona Project came online in the 1990s.
The four Upper Basin states have responded by suggested that it might be time to bring in a facilitator or mediator to conduct the seven-state negotiations on future management planning. This launched an episode of fussing between the Lower and Upper Basins as to who first had that idea, with the other basin objecting to it. But no one seems to be totally opposed to the idea at this point, and it might happen.
Udall/Overpeck 4-panel Figure Colorado River temperature/precipitation/natural flows with trend. Lake Mead and Lake Powell storage. Updated through Water Year 2025. Note the tiny points on the annual data so that you can flyspeck the individual years. Credit: Brad Udall
But basically it all seems to be in reaction to an ‘emergency’ water year, with no advance on more long-range planning – and there is no reason to believe that this year in just a one-shot emergency like the 1977 water year. It is just the most extreme year in an extreme period – the past quarter century – that is probably the shape of the future in the Colorado River region, and there are no more Flaming Gorge reservoirs to draw down for the next emergency year….
It’s probably important to remember a distinction: there is a river, the Colorado River, and we have overlaid on that river a management systemfor managing the river’s water for its human uses, a system whose parts either store water or distribute stored water to users. But we do not directly ‘manage’ the river itself, which runs according larger ‘operators’ – to global climate factors that we can inadvertently change but do not directly control, to what is happening to precipitation that falls in the river’s watersheds, and to how much what lives on the land (including us) interacts with the flow both on and below the land surface.
That last point – the water ‘on and below the land surface’ – strikes me as very important but largely ignored in the stalemated negotiations. You remember the metaphor of ‘the elephant in the room’: a big thing that everyone in the room is trying to ignore because to acknowledge it is to open a can of worms? (Sorry, mixing metaphors here.)
Well, we have ‘elephants in the river’ – or rather maybe in the ‘box’ containing the sacred Law of the River, through which we try to manage to the river. That’s the box that we’re all supposed to be ‘thinking outside of.’ Beginning to work ‘outside the box’ on anything will open a can of worms, but… are we going to have any choice, further down the road when it will be even harder if the elephants in the river continue to be ignored?
Trying to think in an integrated way of the water under the land as well as that on the land is one of our elephants in the river. We need to keep in mind the distribution of the freshwater all land-based life depends on (basically a solar-distilled three percent of the ocean’s water). In our times more than half of the freshwater on the planet is ‘banked’ in mountain glaciers and the ice sheets of the polar regions and Greenland – although this fraction is gradually diminishing under the changing climate. Of the remaining 35-40 percent, most of it is groundwater – water that soaks into the land, nurturing nearly all of the plant life that is the foundational food, fuel and housing supply for the animal kingdom (including us). This leaves only a small fraction of the water on the surface – lakes, wetlands, streams and rivers – and this is also a diminishing fraction, as the warming climate increases sublimation and evaporation from all waters exposed to the sun’s increasing power.
Typical water well
Yet that is also the fraction of freshwater over which nearly all the human squabbling is happening. For a long time, until the last century-plus, that was all the water that most of the animal kingdom could access, but now we have – and use, not wisely – pumps that make the groundwater accessible too.
We also know that most of that small fraction of surface water is pretty intimately connected to the groundwater. A river is not just a drain for water that failed to soak into the ground; as a river runs through its low-elevation course in a watershed, it constantly interacts with the groundwater, gaining water when the land is wet and the ground is full of water, and giving water to the land, as gravity permits, when the land is dry.
Healthy mountain meadows and wetlands are characteristic of healthy headwater systems and provide a variety of ecosystem services, or benefits that humans, wildlife, rivers and surrounding ecosystems rely on. The complex of wetlands and connected floodplains found in intact headwater systems can slow runoff and attenuate flood flows, creating better downstream conditions, trapping sediment to improve downstream water quality, and allowing groundwater recharge. These systems can also serve as a fire break and refuge during wildfire, can sequester carbon in the floodplain, and provide essential habitat for wildlife. Graphic by Restoration Design Group, courtesy of American Rivers
This knowledge ought to drive us toward thinking of groundwater and surface water as a single water source – not just our awareness that pumping the land dry will also diminish the river, but also our awareness that irrigating the chronically dry lands from the streams and rivers not only grows more plants and animal foods that the dry land could – but some of that irrigation water also sinks below the root zone to recharge the groundwater. The city of Gunnison, where I live, bought a ranch adjacent to the city because the city leaders knew enough about alluvial water to know that their groundwater supply (several relatively shallow wells) depended on keeping that ranch under irrigation from the river — water mostly cleaned by the ground it passes through.
But back to the Colorado River, the fraction of the water that does not soak into the land is a larger fraction than you would find in gentler lands primarily because most of the water falls on mountains in winter as snow, which melts in a relatively short time period as the weather warms, too fast for all of it to sink into land that is often too steep or too rocky for absorbing it anyway. But even in that ‘runoff period,’ scientists are learning that a lot of the water in the stream in the ‘spring flood’ season is groundwater flowing in from saturated lands.
Despite knowing all this, however, we persist in fighting over the fraction of freshwater that flows in the river’s watersheds through the year in the Colorado River region (natural basin plus out-of-basin extensions), and pay little in a basin-wide way to the use and abuse of groundwater. Only Colorado – to the best of my knowledge – has tried statewide to legally integrate the use of surface waters and groundwater: since 1969 all groundwater users had to acquire water rights, in the same priority system with surface water users. And – before there was easy access to computers and spreadsheets – all groundwater uses going back almost a century were also integrated into that priority system, a massive ‘can of worms’ to negotiate.
What’s been happening in Colorado for 35 years then is the beginning of the intelligent management of an integrated surface-and-groundwater supply – apparently far too intelligent for the Trumpish agri-industrialists of the two largest Colorado River water users, Southern California and Arizona. Arizona was forced to develop a groundwater management plan (1970) for the areas of Arizona that would be served by the federal Central Arizona Project, in order to get Congress to pass the project; but the rest of the state has been pumping groundwater at prodigious rates, with surface subsidence as evidence of collapsing emptied aquifers that are lost forever. Most of California’s groundwater overpumping is up in the Central Valley, not ‘served’ by the Colorado River, but as Colorado River flows inexorably diminish in a warming world, there will be growing temptations to pump in the Imperial and Coachella Valleys.
I have not found figures for the amount of unregulated groundwater ‘mining’ that goes on in the Colorado river region, but the number and volume of aquifers that have collapsed and been lost due to water-mining would probably go a long way toward filling Mead and Powell Reservoirs. And if you pause for a second and think about it, storing water underground is probably better than storing it in open reservoirs under a desert sun.
That is not the only elephant in the Colorado River – and most of them lead back, one way or another to the Colorado River Compact. The ‘temporary’ two-basin division that has clearly become toxic. Acknowledgement that the compact commission’s original goal of a seven-state division is not just possible now, but has been realized, to everyone’s discontent, making the two-basin division nothing but a battleground. Acceptance of the fact that the diminished river will continue to diminish so long as we continue to put greenhouse gases into the atmosphere faster than the planet can absorb them. Acknowledgment of the fact that as the planet warms, surface storage in big desert reservoirs is a bad idea that will get worse. Acceptance of the fact that the reconvening of a compact commission is overdue, to formalize the seven-state division and its appropriative consequences. And maybe the biggest worm-can of all: are some reasonable, even moral, limits on the appropriation doctrine possible?
We’ll look at some of these other elephants in future posts here – which I think is where the ‘romance of the Colorado River’ is today. I also think we will never have a workable resolution to our current river-system problems until we take on the elephants and bump our own consciousness of water in the arid regions up a notch from the naive ‘conquest of the desert.’
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
Udall/Overpeck 4-panel Figure Colorado River temperature/precipitation/natural flows with trend. Lake Mead and Lake Powell storage. Updated through Water Year 2025. Note the tiny points on the annual data so that you can flyspeck the individual years. Credit: Brad Udall
Click the link to read the article on the KVNF website (Brody Wilson). Here’s an excerpt:
May 19, 2026
A special mid-year West Slope Water Summit brought together water managers and community leaders to address a dire water year. Projected inflows into Lake Powell are expected to be well below half of normal — and negotiations over the river’s future remain unresolved.
A special mid-year West Slope Water Summit convened this week in Montrose — called early because the situation couldn’t wait until November. Montrose County Commissioner Sue Hansen organized the gathering after attending the Colorado River District’s State of the River address. She told attendees it was time to step up the urgency.
“This year is the first year that I am not optimistic,” Hansen said. “This is unprecedented and perhaps sobering for all of us.”
[…]
“The Lower Basin has put out, maybe you guys have heard of this, bridge proposal a couple weeks ago that in my opinion is a joke,” she said.
Her frustration centers on the math. The proposal calls for reducing water use by 3 million acre-feet over two years. But Flinker says that’s nowhere near enough — the river needs cuts of at least that much every single year. At the heart of the standoff is a hard reality. There is currently much less water in the river than we have been using, and no one anticipates that changing any time soon.
As Flinker puts it, “Well, I can speak for myself and you probably have the same opinion. Who wants to reduce their water usage? Right? No one. And the Lower Basin has used over 10 million, close to 11 million, acre-feet out of this river every year, much above their allocation. They don’t want to use less – especially when it’s not a little less – it’s like half, right?”
On Friday, May 22, 2026, Congressman Jeff Hurd announced the release of a $40 million award to the Colorado River District for the purchase and permanent protection of the Shoshone Water Rights. The final approval of $40 million award brings the total amount of funding secured to $97 million of the $99 million needed for the purchase. The process now moves into the contracting phase during which the River District will work with the Bureau of Reclamation to finalize the terms of the award.
Colorado River District General Manager Andy Mueller offered the following remarks regarding the broad, bi-partisan support of this project from our federal, state and local representatives:
“This award is a major breakthrough in our coalition’s effort to permanently secure historic flows on the Colorado River. This funding would not have been possible without the leadership of Representative Jeff Hurd. His unwavering advocacy within the Administration helped secure this once-in-a-generation investment in a project that is vital to the prosperity of rural communities, farmers and ranchers on the Western Slope.
Senator Michael Bennet demonstrated valuable foresight appropriating Inflation Reduction Act funding to address the growing water challenges facing the Colorado River Basin. His leadership helped deliver this historic investment in long-term water security and protect our state’s namesake river for generations to come.
As founders of the Colorado River Caucuses in both the Senate and House, Senator Hickenlooper and Representative Neguse fought for these dollars by developing and strengthening coalitions across divides – both geographical and political. By advocating for the Shoshone Water Rights Project in Colorado and Washington, they helped deliver a durable and permanent solution for the entire Colorado River system.
Shoshone Hydroelectric Plant back in the days before I-70 via Aspen Journalism
Veo vehicles hogging all the public bicycle parking at W. 44th & Tennyson, May 22, 2026.
Veo is parking their scooters and bicycles in the public bicycle parking on Tennyson Street and there is nowhere for bicyclists to lock up to do business with the merchants. The Denver bureaucracy was unresponsive to my inquiries. 311 did closed the request without action.
Maybe the respondents don’t ride bicycles, but if they did they would want to lock them up when snagging some cherry pie, brown sugar cinnamon ice cream, or croissants, like I do.
Veo vehicles taking up public bicycle parking at W. 43rd & Tennyson May 22, 2026.
Look, bicyclists are fine with the for profit folks making a buck, helping out with transportation, and helping to meet Denver’s carbon footprint goals. Just get the damn Veo vehicles out of the public bicycle parking!
It looks like some NorthSiders fixed Veo’s stupid near W. 39th & Tennyson May 22, 2026.
Lake Powell is formed by Glen Canyon Dam. In a concept pitched by a conservation organization, a flexible pool of water could be moved between Upper Basin reservoirs to wherever it’s needed most. CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM
An environmental organization is floating a concept that could help the Colorado River system during extremely dry years like this one and keep the nation’s two largest reservoirs above critical thresholds.
Boulder-based Western Resource Advocates has released a concept paper that explores the idea of a flexible pool of water that can be moved wherever it’s needed most among the basin’s biggest reservoirs.
Water users in the Lower Basin states — California, Arizona and Nevada — currently have about 3.2 million acre-feet stored in Lake Mead through voluntary conservation and efficiency measures. Water users bank water in this pool, known as the Intentionally Created Surplus, and can take this water back out again to use under certain circumstances.
The paper’s authors — John Berggren, a regional policy manager with Western Resource Advocates, and Kevin Wheeler, principal and engineer with Water Balance Consulting — used the ICS pool as an example to explore how the idea would work. They say that if the ICS pool could be moved from Lake Mead to Lake Powell, the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation could have a buffer to more easily protect Glen Canyon Dam infrastructure, minimize the need for large releases from upstream reservoirs and reduce the risk of litigation among the seven basin states that share the Colorado River.
“If you took a million or two million acre-feet out of Mead in the form of a conservation pool and moved it to Powell, then you could protect Powell without having to do all the DROA and the 6e releases,” Berggren said. “This is a perfect year where we would like to have the flexibility to move this water wherever it’s needed most, in this case in Powell.”
Berggren is referring to the actions that the federal government is taking this year: releasing up to 1 million acre-feet from Flaming Gorge Reservoir to prop up Powell, as well as reducing releases down to just 6 million acre-feet from Powell instead of the originally expected 7.48 million acre-feet. Projections from Reclamation show the reservoir falling below 3,500 feet by this summer if these actions aren’t taken, jeopardizing the ability to make hydropower at Glen Canyon Dam.
This is a pivotal moment for the Colorado River Basin’s 40 million water users, with a historically bad snowpack and streamflows pushing reservoir levels to new lows and management into crisis mode. The seven states that share the river have not been able to reach an agreement for how reservoirs will be operated and shortages will be shared after the current framework expires this year. The feds are poised to step in with their own management rules, but the actions they are allowed to legally take may not go far enough to keep the system from crashing.
Graphic credit: Aspen Journalism
An invisible pool
Berggren’s paper lays out a surplus pool that would be flexible and “operationally neutral,” and would be separate from the rest of the stored water in both reservoirs. That means it wouldn’t count toward calculations of how much water is in Lake Powell or Lake Mead for the purpose of determining how water shortages would be shared.
There isn’t a way to physically move water upstream, but according to WRA, water could be transferred between reservoirs through adjustments to dam releases and careful accounting. A pool could be “moved” from Mead to Powell by holding back water in Powell. It could be moved back to Mead by increasing releases from Powell.
The concept paper does not advocate for taking such actions this year, presenting them as a potential strategy to be used under a new river management framework that is being hashed out between the states that share the river and the federal government.
“There are a lot of concerns about operational neutrality, but we’re trying to show that it’s actually not that scary and can provide benefit with less risk than the current options,” Berggren said.
Reservoir levels in Mead currently determine how deep cuts to the Lower Basin states are; as Mead is drawn down, it triggers deeper cuts. Some water experts have said the ICS pool allows Lower Basin water users to game the system. By leaving their water in the ICS pool, it keeps reservoir levels artificially high and lets water users avoid taking deeper cuts. If the ICS pool had remained separate from the rest of Lake Mead, shortage triggers and mandatory conservation would have happened earlier.
Making this pool “operationally neutral,” or invisible to reservoir operations, fixes this issue.
In a proposal submitted to the federal government May 1, the Lower Basin states expressed support for this concept, but they did not lay out a plan to implement it.
“The goal is to achieve operational neutrality of ICS,” the submittal reads. “The Lower Division States will continue to determine when and how to convert ICS to operational neutrality at higher elevations in Lake Mead.”
They also said the long-term goal is to create an operationally neutral common pool of new water savings to be strategically deployed at low elevations to help delay and offset additional reductions to the Lower Basin.
Some experts say there are concerns and unanswered questions about these types of pools. The dividing line where water delivery is measured from the Upper Basin (Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Wyoming) to the Lower Basin is Lee Ferry, just downstream of Lake Powell. Water measured at this location determines whether the Upper Basin remains in compliance with the 1922 Colorado River Compact. Moving water between reservoirs would have to deal with this issue.
“You would just have to agree on the rules of when is it considered a delivery at Lee Ferry and when isn’t it a delivery at Lee Ferry,” said Colorado River expert and author Eric Kuhn.
Another problem is that removing the ICS pool from reservoir accounting would leave a 3.2-million-acre-foot hole in Lake Mead that would need to be filled.
“It’s hard to get there because there isn’t a way to make ICS operationally neutral unless you impose the shortages that would occur if the ICS weren’t there,” said Kathryn Sorensen, director of research and professor of practice at the Kyl Center for Water Policy at Arizona State University. “I don’t know how else you can do it. You have to pay the piper.”
The infamous bathtub ring around Lake Mead can be seen in this photo of the intakes at Hoover Dam in December 2021. A conservation organization says flexible pools could be used to “move” water from Lake Mead to Lake Powell, where water levels could be critically low this year. CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM
Lower Basin proposal
Last week, the Lower Basin states submitted a proposal to Reclamation to operate the reservoirs through 2028 that includes more conservation. This short-term deal could provide a temporary fix while states continue to hammer out a long-term strategy to share the river.
The Lower Basin states are proposing to cut another 700,000 acre-feet of water per year through 2028, on top of the 1.5 million acre-feet they had already promised. California and Arizona will each take another 300,000 acre-feet of cuts and Nevada will take a cut of 100,000 acre-feet. The proposal does not include any mandatory conservation from the Upper Basin.
“It was a monumental undertaking in a very short time frame to come up with all of this,” said JB Hamby, California’s lead negotiator. “We need a bridge to the future, and we welcome and look forward to an opportunity for a full seven-state deal where all states are part of the solution.”
The Lower Basin proposal also says that this year’s release from Flaming Gorge to prop up Powell should be as close to the maximum amount of Reclamation’s rangeof 1 million acre-feet as possible. The proposal also calls for increasing releases from Lake Powell if hydrology and projected reservoir levels improve.
“The intent under improved hydrology is to share the benefits of improved hydrology between both basins,” the proposal reads.
Colorado’s negotiator, Becky Mitchell, said in a prepared statement that the Lower Basin’s proposal for water-use reductions is a good first step but they still call for too much water to be released out of Lake Powell and other Upper Basin reservoirs.
“The Lower Division States’ proposal would also drain the Upstream Initial Units with limited opportunities for recovery,” Mitchell’s statement reads. “Lake Powell should properly be viewed as a savings account for the Lower Basin: The Lower Basin’s own resiliency depends upon it. The entire Basin should support sustainable, supply-driven operations at Lake Powell that rebuild storage.”
Upper Basin officials have proposed a mediator to help move the needle on talks about future management to try to get to a seven-state deal.
Berggren said that although the concept of a flexible, floating pool doesn’t solve the basic supply-and-demand problem on the Colorado River, it’s still an important tool for future management.
“There are a bunch of other things needed, including Lower Basin users and Upper Basin users using less water overall,” Berggren said. “This is just one component. But it helps provide some benefit in dry years like this one.”
As the keynote speaker at the Arkansas River Basin Water Forum in Salida, Upper Colorado River Commissioner Rebecca Mitchell spoke about the Colorado River crisis and water-use negotiations among the seven Colorado River Basin states. Photo credit: Joe Stone/Heart of the Rockies Radio
As the keynote speaker at the Arkansas River Basin Water Forum in Salida, Upper Colorado River Commissioner Rebecca Mitchell spoke about the Colorado River crisis and water-use negotiations among the seven Colorado River Basin states.
Following a warm winter with the lowest snowfall on record, Colorado faces a dire water-resource challenge. Mitchell acknowledged these unprecedented conditions and repeatedly avowed hydrologic reality in the Colorado River Basin as the basis for administering water use.
The 1922 Colorado River Compact governs water allocations in the Colorado Basin and delineates Upper Basin states – Wyoming, Utah, Colorado and New Mexico – and Lower Basin States – Nevada, Arizona and California.
Negotiated during one of the Basin’s wettest known climate patterns, the Compact allocates 7.5 million acre-feet of Colorado River water to the Upper Basin states. The Lower Basin allocation is 7.5 million acre-feet from the Upper Basin plus a million acre-feet from Lower Basin tributaries.
“Let’s look at the numbers,” Mitchell said. “Even in the most recent years … with reservoirs near the brinks of collapse,” Lower Basin water use was almost 11 million acre-feet in 2021, 2.5 million acre-feet more than the Lower Basin’s allocation. That overuse is based on “a very flawed legal opinion,” not science.
By contrast, the Upper Basin states cut usage by almost a million acre-feet from the previous year, using less than 4 million acre-feet, or 3.5 million acre-feet less than their allocation.
Mitchell also compared annual water flows into Lake Powell with the amount of water that the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation released from Lake Powell. “Sixteen out of 20 years, more water left Lake Powell than came in. That mass balance equation simply doesn’t work.”
Those excessive water releases “were not tied to what was happening with hydrology,” she said. “They were tied purely to the reservoir elevations” established by the 2007 Interim Guidelines “and releases that were desired by the Lower Basin.”
Other numbers Mitchell cited include reservoir levels for recent years in which the Lower Basin states used more than their water allocations under the Compact.
In 2000, “you can see Powell is about 86% full. And you look at where we are in 2025, and we’re predicted to be in an even worse situation at the end of this year. … This didn’t work. You see a steady decline.”
The Interim Guidelines “incentivized pulling down Meade so more water would come from Lake Powell. That put us in the situation that we are in today,” Mitchell said. “These guidelines didn’t respond to real world hydrology. They incentivized use – unsustainable use … and they prioritized one basin over the other” – i.e., the Lower Basin over the Upper Basin.
As a result, “two countries are struggling. Forty million people are struggling. Thirty tribes haven’t been at the table before this, (and they) deserve to be. This wasn’t the way to get security for the Western United States.”
The solution, she emphasized, is having flexibility to adapt to changing conditions across the entire Colorado Basin by planning for variable operations. Colorado’s Prior Appropriation (Priority) System, embedded in the Colorado Constitution, requires that flexibility.
Colorado’s Priority System has produced a system of year-round real-time administration of water use based on legal priority.
“You all know the Priority System,” Mitchell said. “There is a priority system in the Lower Basin” that “has been used … yeah, zero times. …
“I think the truth is important, and facts are important. Science is important. … (The Lower Basin’s) overuse essentially put us in the situation that we are in today. … We’re in this together. But we have to pivot to that.
“And we have to engage the tribal nations and Mexico. We can’t do this the way that we have done it before. … One user is not more important than the other users, one side of the Basin is not more important than the other side of the Basin.”
Upper Basin states, led by Colorado, have proposed multiple collaborative, science-based approaches to resolving the Colorado River crisis, but “the Lower Basin is coming up with yet another one of their own plans that involve our resources. …
“They’re irresponsible. They’re not doing enough.” Their rhetoric “puts all of us at risk. And I think we have the responsibility to do better. … One of the things that we’ve always done is really look at what we can do based on the resources that we have – the systems that we already work under.”
Mitchell insisted that the Upper Basin states had put on the table “a generous rule curve of releases from Powell” as well as upstream reservoirs like Blue Mesa and Flaming Gorge.
“Now that we know a year like this is possible, we need to factor that in and be prepared for that. … We have to figure out how do we save in the good years so we can get through the years like this year? …
“I was just in Grand Junction. I had grown men come to me crying. They know this year is going to suck. Literally. And if we don’t acknowledge that as part of our path forward, then we’re really not acknowledging who we are, and we’re also not acknowledging what needs to be done.”
Udall/Overpeck 4-panel Figure Colorado River temperature/precipitation/natural flows with trend. Lake Mead and Lake Powell storage. Updated through Water Year 2025. Note the tiny points on the annual data so that you can flyspeck the individual years. Credit: Brad Udall
Udall/Overpeck 4-panel Figure Colorado River temperature/precipitation/natural flows with trend. Lake Mead and Lake Powell storage. Updated through Water Year 2025. Note the tiny points on the annual data so that you can flyspeck the individual years. Credit: Brad Udall
Click the link to read the article on the AZCentral website (Brandon Loomis). Here’s an excerpt:
May 14, 2026
Key Points
The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation is now seeking a 10-year water-sharing plan for the Colorado River states, adjusting cutbacks every two years.
A worst-case scenario being modeled could slash water shares for Arizona, California and Nevada by 40%.
The Lower Basin states have proposed their own conservation plan, which could cover the first two years of the new federal framework.
Unable to get Colorado River states to hash out a new 20-year deal to share in worsening water shortages, the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation has told them it’s now aiming for a 10-year plan with prescribed cutbacks to be reassessed every two years. Federal officials informed the seven states of their new preference late last week, and Arizona’s lead negotiator made it public on Wednesday, May 13, during a meeting of a committee representing the cities, tribes and other water users who meet to develop a unified state position.
The shift to what could effectively become five two-year plans carries both opportunities and risks for Arizona. On the one hand, state Water Resources Director Tom Buschatzke said, it means a proposal that the Lower Basin states — Arizona, California and Nevada — recently submitted to boost their conservation through 2028 could cover the first two-year term if federal officials agree. That would keep water moving through the Central Arizona Project Canal, an economic lifeline that is at risk under some other scenarios. On the other hand, a move to bite-size plans “has us in a room negotiating for the next 10 years,” Buschatzke said at a meeting of the Arizona Reconsultation Committee. “That’s not something that creates the certainty that we’ve heard some people desire.”
[…]
New rules are necessary because the shortage-sharing guidelines that covered the last 20 years expire this fall — and because the river keeps shrinking along with a paltry snowpack in the Rocky Mountains. A deepening shortage has increased the stakes, keeping a consensus deal out of reach…In pitching their new 10-year “framework,” federal officials also informed the states that they intend to at least model the potential effects of a 3 million acre-foot annual reduction to what the three Lower Basin states could pull from Lake Mead. That worst-case scenario would slash 40% from what the century-old Colorado River Compact promised those Lower Basin states, and it could dry up the CAP Canal. It’s nearly twice the reduction that those states offered in their recent proposal…A 10-year program with a broad menu of potential guidelines that update every two years allows flexibility to adapt to both the changing hydrology and the potential for a political breakthrough on a consensus deal, [Alex] Smith said.
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
In this special episode, SNWA General Manager John Entsminger joins City Cast Las Vegas Podcast host Jesse Merrick to discuss how the aging Law of the River is colliding with a modern climate. 🎧: https://t.co/uTIfvvnCKbpic.twitter.com/n6Jio3BBFD
— Southern Nevada Water Authority (@SNWA_H2O) May 13, 2026
A new concept paper from experts at Western Resource Advocates and Water Balance Consulting shows that flexible water conservation pools can help get the Colorado River through dry years like this one.
The Colorado River’s two major reservoirs are approaching historic lows, threatening the infrastructure that delivers water and hydropower to communities across the West. The current tools to address the problem are limited.
The guidelines for managing the river expire this year. There are several management alternatives being considered that incorporate new flexible conservation pools.
A new concept paper shows how these pools can protect the Colorado River Basin and minimize conflict in critically dry years.
Imagine that you’re about to overdraw your checking account. Would you transfer money from your savings to avoid overdraft fees? Cut back on your spending?
Water managers on the Colorado River are faced with a similar problem, and few people are happy with the options available.
The Colorado River Basin just experienced its warmest winter on record. Snow water equivalent, or the amount of water in snowpack, is on track to be one of the lowest on record. An unprecedented March heat wave quickly melted much of what little snow was available to feed the river. And the West is projected to continue getting hotter and drier in the coming years.
The Colorado River Basin isn’t dealing with a temporary water shortage, it’s bankrupt.
The river’s two major reservoirs — Lake Powell and Lake Mead — were constructed with a much bigger river in mind. Today, these reservoirs are approaching historic lows, threatening the infrastructure that delivers water and power to communities across the West. The Bureau of Reclamation forecasted that Lake Powell could drop below 3,500 feet, or the level needed to protect hydropower production, this summer if no actions were taken.
We are about to overdraw the account, resulting in significant consequences for the West.
Figure 2. Diagram showing schematic of Glen Canyon Dam elevations at which Lake Powell’s waters can be released downstream, and the volumes of water defined by these elevations. Active storage between 3370 and 3500 ft is not realistically accessible for continuous downstream release without risk to engineering infrastructure at the dam and powerplant. Hydroelectricity cannot be produced below 3490 ft, and 3500 ft has been established as a minimum safe level for intake through the penstocks.
Under current management guidelines, Reclamation only has two options to put more water in Lake Powell, and both come with drawbacks. The first is to release water from upstream reservoirs into Lake Powell. This is a stopgap measure — like drawing on your savings account to cover an unexpected expense. There are limits to how much water can be moved and how often. Upstream reservoirs must be allowed to refill after the water is transferred to Lake Powell.
The second option is to reduce Lake Powell releases. However, holding too much water in Lake Powell could trigger litigation from the Lower Basin states as soon as this fall, claiming that the Upper Basin is violating the Colorado River Compact.
Reclamation announced in late April that it will be using both options simultaneously keep water levels in Lake Powell from dropping below 3,500 feet. The agency plans to release between 660,000 and 1 million acre-feet of water from an upstream reservoir while reducing Lake Powell releases by 1.48 million acre-feet. While Reclamation is trying to protect the river with limited tools, the Basin states are not thrilled with the plan. The Upper Basin was quick to point out that increased releases from upstream reservoirs will have significant impacts on local economies and is not an action that can be taken year after year. Meanwhile, the Lower Basin says withholding additional water in Lake Powell could lead to the Upper Basin violating the Colorado River Compact.
The plan also might not work. It is expected to keep Lake Powell just above 3,500 feet — dangerously close to the hydropower intakes. This could potentially draw air into the intakes, damaging equipment and resulting in a complete loss of hydropower production.
The river’s current management guidelines are clearly no match for climate change. We are drawing down our savings in the hope of just barely making ends meet. It might not be enough, and it’s not something we can afford to do every year.
A NEW WAY FORWARD
The river is undergoing dramatic changes. What if we had a new management tool that allowed us to change with it?
WRA worked with Kevin Wheeler at Water Balance Consulting to find out.
We found that flexible water conservation pools can help maintain critical reservoir elevations and minimize the need to release large volumes of water from upstream reservoirs, while also not exasperating compact compliance issues.
We looked at the Intentionally Created Surplus (ICS) program — an existing water conservation program in the Lower Basin — to explore how this might work.
Currently, the ICS program allows water users in the Lower Basin to save water and store it in Lake Mead through actions like increasing irrigation efficiency or fallowing farmland. There is a little over 3 million acre-feet of ICS water currently being stored in Lake Mead.
This water has the potential to provide enormous benefit to Lake Powell as well, but there are institutional barriers to moving it. The water level in Lake Mead is currently used to determine how much water is released to the Lower Basin. Under the current guidelines, moving ICS water out of the reservoir would lower Lake Mead and impact Lower Basin shortages.
The key to solving this problem is creating a conservation pool that is “operationally neutral,” allowing saved water to be moved between reservoirs without impacting Lower Basin shortages or affecting compact compliance. This would allow ICS water to be stored in Lake Mead or Lake Powell — wherever it is needed to protect infrastructure and river health.
There is no infrastructure on the Colorado River to physically move water upstream; however, water can be transferred between reservoirs through adjustments to dam releases and careful accounting. For example, reservoir releases from Lake Powell could be physically reduced by 1 million acre-feet to “move” 1 million acre-feet of ICS water upstream from Lake Mead to Lake Powell. Releases from Lake Powell could later be increased by 1 million acre-feet to physically transfer the water downstream back to Lake Mead.
Because this water is operationally neutral, it would not be considered when calculating Lake Mead water levels and so moving it would not affect Lower Basin shortages. It also would not affect the 10-year Lee Ferry average. On paper, it would be as though there was no reduction in Lake Powell releases to “move” water upstream. This avoids exasperating compact compliance issues. This is in contrast to the operations Reclamation is undertaking this year, which will result in actual decreased Lake Powell releases, affect the 10-year Lee Ferry average, and bring compact implications as a result.
Our analysis shows that if a flexible conservation pool had been available this year, it could have significantly reduced the need to pull additional water from upstream reservoirs — helping to address concerns raised by the Upper Basin states. It also would have minimized compact compliance implications — helping to address issues raised by the Lower Basin.
The guidelines for managing the river expire this year, and there are several new management alternatives on the tablethat incorporate flexible conservation pools. Our analysis shows how these pools could work to protect the river and our communities in critically hot and dry years like this one.
Drawing down our savings isn’t going to work in the long term. We need sustainable solutions to ensure the infrastructure that delivers water and power to the West can function in dry years.
A person looks out over the Colorado River near Page, Arizona on November 2, 2022. The seven states that use its water are caught in a standoff about how to share the shrinking supply. They say they want to avoid a court battle, but some states are quietly preparing for that outcome. Alex Hager/KUNC
Click the link to read the article on the KUNC website (Scott Franz):
May 8, 2026
This story is part of ongoing coverage of the Colorado River, produced by KUNC in Colorado and supported by the Walton Family Foundation. KUNC is solely responsible for its editorial coverage.
A federal hydrologist appeared to be momentarily at a loss for words Thursday as he described how dire the latest forecast has gotten for how much water will flow through the Colorado River Basin this summer.
“Really no good news this winter,” Cody Moser with the Colorado Basin River Forecast Center said before taking a long pause on a webinar.
Moser went on to describe how just 800,000 acre-feet of water is projected to flow into Lake Powell, the upper basin’s largest reservoir, through July. That’s 13% of its average supply. It would also be the lowest summer inflow in the reservoir’s history. The projected flows into Powell have dramatically decreased over the last two months.
The worsening outlook is driven by record-low snowpack around the west and a March heat wave.
“We did see a cool down and a wetter April, but it pales in comparison to this five, six month stretch of just record warm and dry weather that we’ve seen,” he said.
Falling water levels at Lake Powell recently prompted the Interior Department to take emergency measures to prop it up. The goal is to stop it from getting so low that it can no longer produce hydroelectricity for several states in the west. Some forecasts have it reaching that level as soon as this summer.
The rescue plan involves taking a massive amount of water from the Flaming Gorge reservoir on the Wyoming-Utah border upstream and sending it down to Powell.
Meanwhile, there’s been some recent activity in the stalled negotiations involving how the water should be shared and conserved among the seven states depending on it.
The upper basin states have been at an impasse with the lower basin states over how much each basin should have to cut back its use.
Last week, Nevada, California and Arizona made a new short-term pitch for how to avert an ongoing crisis in water shortages.
The states said they would conserve as much as an additional one-million acre feet of water per year through 2028.
Colorado’s water negotiator gave the new pitch a tepid response Monday.
Becky Mitchell said in a statement that the proposal is a “good first step,” but it would be “unsustainable.”
“While the lower division states have made progress, more is needed to protect the Colorado River system now and into the future,” she said. “These differences highlight the urgent need to come back together with the help of a mediator.”
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
From the Rockies to the Cascades to the Sierra Nevada, mountainsides across the West are sparsely covered by the snow that usually blankets the high country well into the summer.
That snowpack is like a savings account that the West draws on when the hot, dry months arrive. It moistens the landscape as it melts, lessening the risk of severe wildfire. The runoff feeds into river basins, and the swelling waterways provide power to hydroelectric dams, irrigation to farmers and drinking water to cities.
This year, Western states are heading into the summer with a desperately low balance — threatening wildfires, drinking water, crops, electricity and more.
“This has been an extremely poor year,” said Sharon Megdal, director of the Water Resources Research Center, a research unit at the University of Arizona. “This has gotten a lot of people concerned and alarmed.”
While a late-season storm brought heavy snow to parts of the Rockies this month, the region remains in a deep snowpack deficit.
As warmer weather arrives, states are preparing for a dangerous wildfire season across the drought-stricken West. Farmers and cities are bracing for potential cutbacks in their water allocations from rivers that have less to give. Fisheries managers are watching for low river flows that could threaten vital salmon runs. And worsening conditions could threaten the supply of hydropower that provides cheap, clean electricity to many Western states.
A hot, dry winter
Across nearly the entire West, states spent the winter waiting for snow that rarely arrived. Ski resorts lost millions of visitors as they struggled to stay open. Then in March, a record-breaking heat wave settled across the region, shrinking the already paltry snowpack.
“It’s unheard of,” Megdal said. “Things were already looking bad in January, but if you follow the projections, they had to keep revising the numbers downward because the snow just never came and we had this hugely hot period in March.”
Westwide SNOTEL basin-filled map May 10, 2026.
The federal National Water and Climate Center produces a real-time map showing the snow water equivalent in river basins across the country — a measurement of how much moisture is being held in those mountaintop savings accounts.
The majority of the West is bright red, indicating that snowpack is at less than 50% of the median level for this time of year. Yellow and orange cover most of the remaining areas, showing regions that are still well below the median.
The most recent U.S. Drought Monitor map shows most of the country in abnormally dry or drought conditions, aside from the Great Lakes region and some other parts of the Midwest.
West Fork Fire June 20, 2013 photo the Pike Hot Shots Wildfire Today
Wildfire
For many Western states, the most imminent threat from the dry winter is the prospect of a dangerous wildfire season.
Already, wildfires in Nebraska have burned hundreds of thousands of acres, shattering records and setting the stage for a record wildfire year.
The wildland fire outlook maps produced by the National Interagency Fire Center show above-normal fire risk spreading across much of the West by June and July.
“There’s a lot of red on the map,” said Matthew Dehr, wildland fire meteorologist with the Washington state Department of Natural Resources.
Dave Upthegrove, Washington’s public lands commissioner, said his agency is preparing for fire season as normal but with a heightened awareness that this summer could be demanding. He’s focused on educating residents about the risks, noting that 90% of wildfires in Washington are caused by humans.
“What we’re likely to see are wildfires moving more quickly through forests,” he said. “When we do have a large fire event, it’s likely to move faster, be more significant.”
He also noted that this year is Washington’s fourth consecutive year of drought conditions, making trees more susceptible to diseases and pests and compounding wildfire risk.
Dehr said spring rains could provide a bit of a buffer before the heat of July and August, but a recent stretch of sunny weeks has yet to provide relief.
Upthegrove noted that the challenging conditions across much of the West could make it more difficult for states to send wildfire crews to each other’s aid, if many states are battling big blazes simultaneously.
“As the climate crisis pushes a forest health crisis pushes a wildfire crisis, it’s going to stress the whole system, not just in our state,” he said.
Low water supplies
Many Western states also rely on snowpack to feed rivers that provide irrigation for farming and the water supply for cities. In particular, the Colorado River provides water for tens of millions of people across seven states, a region that has grown even as the river’s supply has dwindled in recent decades. Reservoirs that were full at the turn of the century are now nearing critically low levels.
“There hasn’t been enough flow in the river to meet all these expected demands, even in the good years,” said Megdal, the water researcher. “We’ve used up our savings and storage, so now what do we do?”
Water allocations for states, tribes and farmers in the region are governed by a complicated and fiercely contested system known as the Colorado River Compact. In recent years, cutbacks due to the low supply reduced the water allocation for central Arizona, including all of the water for agricultural users.
“It’s turning out to be very hard to get the states to agree on how to slice up a much smaller pie,” Megdal said. “There are scenarios that are not zero probability that are catastrophic to the region.”
If the states are unable to reach an agreement, allocation for the river’s diminished water will be determined by federal regulators under the “law of the river.” Cutbacks imposed by the feds could fall heavily on central Arizona, Megdal said, cutting the supply for Phoenix, Tucson and some tribal nations.
Such uncertainty in the Colorado River basin and elsewhere “leaves farmers making planting decisions now without knowing whether sufficient water will be available to carry crops through harvest,” the American Farm Bureau Federation wrote in an April report.
The lack of water could force farmers to remove trees or vineyards, the Farm Bureau noted, or reduce cattle herds if the parched landscape does not supply enough forage.
Meanwhile, rivers running at a slow trickle could reduce the hydroelectric power produced by dams across the West. Across 13 Western states, hydropower accounts for nearly a quarter of electrical generation.
The Glen Canyon Dam in Arizona, which forms Lake Powell, produces about 5 billion kilowatt-hours of electricity each year, enough to power nearly half a million homes. But the lake level may soon fall below a threshold from which the dam can no longer generate power.
“Hydropower is so incredibly important because it has been the lowest-cost power for many in the West,” Megdal said. “There are big implications for the energy grid and the cost of electricity.”
This story was originally produced by Stateline, which is part of States Newsroom, a nonprofit news network which includes Utah News Dispatch, and is supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity.
Created by Imgur user Fejetlenfej , a geographer and GIS analyst with a ‘lifelong passion for beautiful maps.’ It highlights the massive expanse of river basins across the country – in particular, those which feed the Mississippi River, in pink.
A train loads up at the West Elk coal mine near Somerset, Colorado. Like the rest of the coal industry, the West Elk’s days appeared to be numbered a decade ago. But growing power demand from data centers and the Trump administration’s fossil fuel-friendly policies are coming together to breathe new life into mines like this one. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
🤖 Data Center Watch 👾
Yet another scene in the ongoing saga of the Big Data Center Buildup is playing out in Box Elder County, Utah, where the board of commissioners this week approved the proposed Stratos Project data center and energy generation complex, despite widespread and intense local opposition.
Enigmatic entities have forwarded so many proposals for ginormous new data centers in the West that I not only find myself overwhelmed, but I also suspect that many of them are just speculative pipe dreams that will never be built. Similarly, when I read about the inevitable backlash, I tend to think of it as an almost reflexive reaction — something folks have simply been conditioned to do when they hear the terms “AI,” “hyper scale,” and “data center” — that is not based in the actual effects these things will have.
This project — led by investor Kevin O’Leary of the tv-show Shark Tank — appears to be serious, as it comes with the backing of Utah’s Military Installation Development Authority, or MIDA, a state entity created to “further economic development across multiple jurisdictions.” Gov. Spencer Cox has said the state has an “obligation … to allow for these types of data centers to be built,” so it should slide through state permitting without a hitch.
Its potential impacts are not only real, but also scary: The project would ultimately cover about 40,000 acres just north of the Great Salt Lake, its on-site 9-gigawatt power plant would guzzle enormous amounts of natural gas and emit greenhouse gases, and the facility could even create its own extreme heat island. No wonder the pushback is so impassioned.
The scale of this thing is utterly mind-blowing, from its 62-square-mile footprint — equivalent to about 1,000 Walmart super centers — to the size of its gas-fired power plant. Nine gigawatts (or 9,000 megawatts) is enough to power multiple cities and millions of households; all of Utah’s coal, natural gas, and wind and solar facilities combined have a nameplate capacity of just 10.2 GW. While natural gas burns more cleanly than coal, it still emits significant levels of carbon dioxide and nitrogen oxides, and Project Stratos could increase state’s greenhouse gas emissions by as much as 50%. Natural gas drilling, processing, and transportation bring their own environmental impacts and emit methane — a potent greenhouse gas — as well as other harmful pollutants. The facility would be served by the Ruby Pipeline, which carries gas extracted from Wyoming fields.
The natural gas component fits the pattern of the Big Data Center Buildup. Developers often say they are going to run their centers on solar, wind, geothermal, or even nuclear power. When it comes down to it, however, most of them end up relying on gas, at least initially. The developer of the proposed Prometheus Hyperscale data center along the Natrona-Converse county line in Wyoming initially touted all of the renewable energy opportunities in the area. Now they plan to run entirely on natural gas. Even the ones that do build or buy some solar or wind still tend to use gas-turbines or even diesel generators for backup.
Energy Transfer is looking to build a dedicated natural gas pipeline to serve the giant and controversial Project Jupiter complex in southern New Mexico, and the Bureau of Land Management just issued a right-of-way for the 400 million-cubic-feet-per-day project under its accelerated review process. The developers reacted to vigorous opposition by switching from the planned conventional gas turbines to solid oxide fuel cells. However, the cells are also fueled by natural gas — thus the pipeline —and do have emissions, albeit fewer than conventional turbines.
While many of the largest new data centers plan to build dedicated, on-site power generation, most of the planned facilities and those coming online now will get all or most of their electricity from the power grid. All of this new and projected new demand has utility executives salivating over the prospect of selling more product and raking in more profit. It has also spurred many utilities to cancel plans to shutter dirty coal plants or to make plans to build more natural gas facilities. So even if all of the proposed data centers aren’t realized, their mere possibility could lock in more fossil fuel burning and more pollution for years to come.
The Stratos Project’s potential water use is less clear, but certainly relevant given that it would draw from the same hydrologic system as the Great Salt Lake, which is shrinking. Data centers generate an enormous amount of heat, so they must be cooled, which can consume large quantities of water (and power). The developer says it plans to use a closed-loop cooling system, which must be filled once and so consumes relatively little water. These systems, however, remain relatively uncommon in these facilities. Natural gas turbines can also require large volumes of water for steam generation and cooling, though consumption levels depend on the type of turbine.
In March, the nearby Bar H Ranch proposed transferring its rights to 1,900 acre-feet annually of irrigation water diverted from the Salt Wells Springs Stream for industrial use at the Stratos Project, a.k.a. “Wonder Valley.” The application noted that the water “will be used primarily for power generation. A portion of the water will also be used in connection with a data center that will operate as a closed-loop system.” Thousands of people protested the application, based on its potential impacts on the lake and neighboring wells.
For context, 1,900 acre-feet (or 619 million gallons) would be enough to grow about 1,400 tons of alfalfa, or to irrigate some 500 acres of Utah alfalfa fields for a full growing season. That may not be enough water, however, to serve the natural gas power plant if it runs full-time. A combined cycle natural gas turbine uses about 200 gallons per MWhr of generation. If you assume a 60% capacity factor, then the 9 GW1plant would produce about 130,000 MWhr per day, leading to an annual water use of about 9.5 billion gallons assuming it runs full-blast 24/7. This is in line with developers’ statements that they would eventually seek up to 13,000 acre-feet of water rights.
The firm withdrew the application this week, just two days after the protest period ended, saying it would submit a new application later (which would void all of the protests and force residents to re-submit their comments and pay the filing fee again).
“The people of Utah, especially those from Box Elder County, filed protests in record numbers because of their concerns about this project,” said Ben Abbott, BYU ecologist and executive director of Grow the Flow, a non-partisan organization dedicated to saving the Great Salt Lake. “For the developer to sidestep the public input process by withdrawing their application and resubmitting later is another breach of trust. I keep trying to give them the benefit of the doubt, but this has all the hallmarks of an out-of-state mega-project with little to no concern for the local community.”
Meanwhile, O’Leary, the project’s pusher, is responding to the opposition by dangling the dim possibility of incorporating other power generation technologies into the mix, and by accusing the ranchers, doctors, and Utah citizens protesting the proposal of being paid, out-of-state agitators. As tired, worn-out, and false the claim is, it does provide an indication that the developers behind this project really don’t care about its potential impacts — or the land, people, or waters it may affect.
The Big Data Center Buildup is increasing demand for all sorts of energy, especially generation fueled by natural gas. This, along with increased liquefied natural gas exports, could drive up methane prices and finally pull the industry out of its 17-year-long slump — at least that’s what the industry is hoping for. And the Trump administration is doing its darndest to clear the way for more oil and gas drilling.
The BLM is currently seeking public input on its plan to sell a whopping 276 oil and gas leases on 357,337 acres in Wyoming. That’s a lot of land that could be targeted for drilling. The administration has leased public land, and issued drilling permits, at an almost unprecedented rate since taking office last January.
The effort to tackle the affordable housing crisis in Western amenities community has met up with the public lands, but not in the way you might think. Dozens of low-income housing advocacy groups have come together with environmental groups to form Shared Ground, a new coalition that aims not only to increase access to affordable housing, but also to protect public lands — while also opening the door to selling some of those lands if strict criteria are followed.
The mission of the coalition is summed up in a recent document, noting:
The document criticizes Sen. Mike Lee’s push to sell public land to real estate developers, noting:
Furthermore, the coalition acknowledges that the affordable housing crisis is “fundamentally a policy and investment challenge—not the result of a simple shortage of land.”
Nevertheless, Shared Ground does leave the door open to selling public land for housing, as long as it meets the following criteria (this is from the coalition’s statement):
Demonstrated Public Interest and Community Benefit: Any proposal for the use or disposal of public lands for housing must carry binding, legally enforceable requirements that the land primarily serves affordable housing rather than market-rate and never fuels speculative development. Benefits must flow primarily to local, existing communities—not private developers—and projects should be limited to parcels near existing infrastructure and services.
Careful Inventory and Prioritization: Any such proposal must also require carefulinventory of the public lands under consideration for use or disposal and prioritize already-developed sites over undeveloped land.
Conservation, Cultural, Recreational, and Tribal Safeguards: Public Lands withsignificant conservation, wildlife, cultural, historic, Tribal, or recreational value must be excluded from any conveyance or development proposal. All proposals must include early, meaningful consultation with Tribal Nations, and transparent engagement with local communities, with clear public accountability throughout the process.
The Dolores River upstream of its confluence with the San Miguel River is heartbreakingly dry right now, as operators of McPhee Reservoir release 10 cubic feet per-second or less from the dam. After it joins the San Miguel, the river jumps to a meagre 84 cfs as it passes through Gateway. Forecasts are calling for warm temperatures in the coming week, which could raise the San Miguel’s level somewhat, but will also likely melt all the remaining snow in the mountains. Jonathan P. Thompson photo from May 3, 2026.
The Dolores River in Bedrock (in the Paradox Valley of western Colorado) is running at record low levels currently as dam operators hold back as much water as possible in McPhee Reservoir to ration out to irrigators this summer.
While I’m fairly certain the streams all hit peak runoff back in April, I’m not calling the contest yet. April and early May storms and more “normal” temperatures have kept a bit more of the snowpack around than expected, and forecasted heat in coming days will probably melt off what remains pretty quickly, possibly leading to a surge in streamflows. But by the end of next week, I’m predicting all but the highest monitoring stations will be snow-free, meaning spring runoff pretty much will be done and gone.
📸 Parting Shot 🎞️
A collared lizard basks in the early May sun between chasing butterflies and other insects near the Colorado-Utah state line. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
1 The figures for the size of the power plant vary from place to place. The developer’s “fact sheet” lists 9 GW of Utah power generation, while the water right application said it was for 7.5 GW. Rob Davies’ analysis of the heat output of the facility assumes that the data center’s load will be 9 GW, which would require a 16 GW power facility operating at 55% efficiency.
Arizona is preparing for a legal battle over its rights to Colorado River water.
Following an extraordinarily dry winter along the river basin and what’s expected to be an exceptionally hot and dry spring across the West, where high temperatures in March have already blown past records, the pressure to maintain access to the state’s fair share of river water is growing.
The Colorado River is a vital source of drinking water for 40 million people in the seven basin states, Mexico and 30 Native American tribes, and provides water for farming operations and hydroelectricity.
Reaching a water usage agreement is imperative to the basin states as the river’s water supply continues to decline, as it has done for the past 25 years due to a persistent drought spurred on by climate change.
On Monday, the Arizona Governor’s Office announced that it had retained the law firm Sullivan & Cromwell to represent the state in possible litigation among the Colorado River Basin states and the federal government.
Sullivan & Cromwell is an international firm based in New York City that has represented big names like Microsoft, BP, Goldman Sachs and JPMorgan Chase. The state is using some of the $3 million it put into its Colorado River legal defense fund last year to retain the law firm.
The Governor’s Office doesn’t expect to take any legal action until June at the earliest, but wants to be prepared for the possibility, especially if the dispute ends up before the U.S. Supreme Court.
The Lower Basin states — Arizona, Nevada and California — and the Upper Basin states — Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming — have been negotiating an updated water usage agreement for more than two years.
But so far the states have blown past two deadlines to do so — one in November and one in February — and are quickly approaching October, when the existing usage agreement expires.
If the states can’t reach an agreement before that, the federal government will implement one of its draft plans, all of which would place an outsized burden on the Grand Canyon State.
That’s because the Central Arizona Project, a series of canals that supplies Colorado River water to the Valley and the Tucson area, is one of the newest users of the river water, making it legally one of the first to be cut.
But so far, the Upper Basin states have refused to agree to any federally mandated water usage cuts of their own. While the Lower Basin states insist that every state take their fair share, Upper Basin states have argued that they’ve never used their full allotment and already face regular cuts and shortages based on physical availability of water.
Arizona has offered to reduce its Colorado River allocation by 27%, California by 10%, and Nevada by nearly 17%.
Negotiators for Arizona also insist that the Upper Basin states be held to the original 1922 Colorado River Compact that requires them to release a 10-year rolling average of at least 75 million acre-feet of water to the Lower Basin, in addition to one-half of the annual allotment owed to Mexico, for a total of about 80.2 million acre-feet.
An acre-foot of water represents enough to cover an acre of land to a depth of one foot, or about 325,851 gallons. That’s enough to provide three homes in Arizona a year of water, on average.
So far, the Upper Basin states have held to the original release agreement. But as water levels in the two major reservoirs on the river, Lake Mead and Lake Powell, continue to decline, it’s expected that the Upper Basin states will be unable to meet that requirement as early as 2027.
When the states entered into the original Colorado River Compact in 1922, they allocated 7.5 million acre-feet of water each year to be shared by the Upper Basin states and another 7.5 million to be used among the Lower Basin states.
Since then, the states have updated their water usage guidelines several times, even though the apportionments remain the same. But Lower Basin states face cuts mandated by the federal government during times of drought and Upper Basin states do not. In 2025, for the fifth year in a row, the federal government imposed drought-based cuts, and Arizona’s amounted to a loss of 512,000 acre-feet of water for the year.
Under current allocations, Arizona has rights to 2.8 million acre feet of water per year, and has implemented 800,000 acre feet in reductions per year. In contrast, Colorado has rights to 3.8 million acre feet a year, although it uses an average of 1.9 million acre feet, annually.
However, Colorado doesn’t always get that full allotment, because it relies mostly on melted snowpack for its water, which varies from year to year. This year’s snowpack levels are historically low, forcing water providers in the Upper Basin to place restrictions on usage based on availability and state law.
Upper Basin states argue that they regularly deal with annual shortages based on physical availability and the state laws that govern how the Upper Basin water is shared, with average annual shortages of about 1.3 million acre feet.
The Lower Basin states have undertaken significant conservation efforts for Colorado River water since 2014 and have reduced their consumption from 7.4 million acre-feet in 2015 to just over 6 million in 2024.
The Upper Basin states have increased their usage in the past five years, from 3.9 million acre-feet in 2021 to 4.4 million in 2024. The federal government’s draft plans allow for the Upper Basin states to use even more water.
Gov. Katie Hobbs’s proposed budget for this year would put another $1 million toward the Colorado River Legal Defense fund, and lawmakers earlier this month gave preliminary approval to doing just that.
Even as Arizona prepares for a legal battle, the state plans to continue attempting to reach an agreement with the other river basin states, according to the Governor’s Office.
“Governor Hobbs is committed to working with the federal government and other Colorado River states to deliver a negotiated settlement that protects Arizona’s fair share of water and stabilizes the system,” spokesman for Hobbs Christian Slater said. “However, it’s critical that Arizona be prepared to defend ourselves in court if an agreement cannot be reached or the Law of the River is violated.”
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
From left, J.B. Hamby, chair of the Colorado River Board of California, Tom Buschatzke, Arizona Department of Water Resources; Becky Mitchell, Colorado representative to the Upper Colorado River Commission. Hamby and Buschatzke acknowledged during this panel at the Colorado River Water Users Association annual conference that the lower basin must own the structural deficit, something the upper basin has been pushing for for years. CREDIT: TOM YULSMAN/WATER DESK, UNIVERSITY OF COLORADO, BOULDER
Click the link to read the article on the Tucson.com website (Tony Davis). Here’s an excerpt:
May 5, 2026
The federal government has agreed to pump more than $450 million into programs to carry out additional Colorado River water conservation, Arizona Department of Water Resources chief Tom Buschatzke said Monday. The spending is necessary to make the new proposal from Arizona, Nevada and California work, Buschatzke and other water officials said Friday in releasing their offer to save 700,000 to 1 million acre-feet of river water through 2028. A million acre-feet is the equivalent of approximately 10 years’ worth of Colorado River deliveries to Tucson Water. The U.S. Interior Department proposed that the money be spent, and the U.S. Office of Management and Budget, which must sign off on all federal expenditures, approved it, Buschatze said at a news briefing Monday afternoon on the new plan from the three Lower Colorado River Basin states…J.B. Hamby, California’s Colorado River commissioner, said later Monday that what Buschatzke said is also his understanding of the federal government’s position. The federal funding offer would require the Lower Basin states to engage in a cost-sharing effort to contribute money to the water-saving scheme, Buschatzke said.
A (presumably) autonomous mine haul truck at Mariana Mineral’s newly acquired Lisbon Valley copper mine in southeastern Utah. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Every six months or so I like to do a recon of the Lisbon Valley in southeastern Utah, a long-time sacrifice zone for uranium and copper mining, oil and gas drilling, natural gas processing, and now lithium extraction — not to mention cattle grazing — to see about the latest developments. My takeaway from my latest visit: The sacrifice continues — both in a real sense and a speculative one.
The speculation is in the form of a rush to stake mining claims on nearly every inch of available public land in the valley. This phenomenon isn’t readily apparent on the ground, but showed up indirectly in the form of orange No Trespassing signs posted on public roads in one specific area. Except they aren’t really prohibiting trespassing — that would be illegal. They are just pointing out that the Lisbon Valley Mining Company has already claimed all of the public land around there, so new would-be claimants should just stay away.
Photo credit: Jonathan P. Thompson
Meanwhile, after shutting down in 2024 due to high costs and staffing challenges, the Lisbon Valley copper mine, which posted the signs, is back in business. Late last year Mariana Minerals, backed by the Silicon Valley venture capital firm Andreessen Horowitz, purchased the then-idled mine. Mariana’s CEO is Turner Caldwell, who previously ran Tesla’s battery minerals unit. Perhaps it was his cybertruck that sat in the mine’s parking lot when I drove by recently.
At the mine’s grand reopening ceremony last month, Caldwell said he was hoping to “fundamentally reinvent how infrastructure is built, how mines are operated and how refineries are operated.” This includes using autonomous drills, equipment, and haul trucks, as well as robots to do inspections and conduct more hazardous work.
This purportedly will allow the operation to increase production from about 2,500 tons annually under the previous ownership, to a target of 50,000 tons per year by 2030 — an enormous jump. Historically, the most the mine produced was about 10,000 tons annually. But last year the BLM approved the company’s proposed expansion of its open pit operations and to add an in-situ extraction operation — a prospect that alarmed nearby residents concerned about contamination of aquifers.
Caldwell is vague about the number of jobs the revived operation will create. On the one hand, he’s said he plans on hiring “hundreds” of new workers and invest over $1 billion. On the other, the autonomous equipment’s main asset is that it alleviates past staffing difficulties. As of early May, the Mariana website advertised just 19 open jobs at the Lisbon Valley site. That includes several salaried positions, with pay ranging from $100,000 to about $180,000 per year, as well as drillers, equipment operators, and mechanics at $25 to $45 per-hour wages. Interns could earn $30/hour.
Whether any of that will be enough to afford housing in Moab or even La Sal or Monticello is unclear.
I passed through there on a Sunday, and things were quiet. One haul truck was sitting in the pit, and it appeared as if it was running but it wasn’t doing any hauling. I couldn’t get close enough to confirm that there was no human driver, but the cab did look empty. There were no robots in sight.
Meanwhile, down in Arizona’s copper country, the Center for Biological Diversity, the San Carlos Apache Tribe, and the Lower San Pedro Watershed Alliance filed an intent to sue the Trump administration over its approval of Faraday’s Copper Creek exploratory drilling project east of Mammoth, Arizona, saying it violates the Endangered Species Act.
The exploratory project, a precursor to actual mining, includes 67 drill pads, along with associated roads and infrastructure, on about 78 square kilometers in the Galiuro Mountains in the Lower San Pedro Watershed. Each drill rig requires tens of thousands of gallons of water in an area where communities are facing water shortages and the riparian ecosystem is stressed by prolonged drought. The groups’ lawsuit focuses on the drilling’s impacts on the imperiled Mexican spotted owl and other wildlife.
“The Lower San Pedro watershed is one of Arizona’s most important wildlife corridors, and this exploration project is pushing industrial disturbance into a landscape that is already under pressure,” said Melissa Crytzer Fry, chair for the Lower San Pedro Watershed Alliance. “When agencies ignore clear evidence and fail to follow the law, local communities are left to defend the river, the habitat and the species that make this place irreplaceable.”
🐟 Colorado River Chronicles 💧
If you’re bummed out about the reduced releases from Glen Canyon Dam — and the associated drop in streamflows in the Grand Canyon — you might try going upstream a ways and boating the Green River or the Colorado River below the confluence of the two. On May 1, the Bureau of Reclamation upped releases from Flaming Gorge Dam to full power plant capacity, or 4,600 cubic feet per second. Then, on May 4, they started allowing an additional 4,000 cfs to flow through the dam’s bypass to implement a larval trigger study plan (and to bolster Lake Powell’s levels).
Hydrograph showing releases from Flaming Gorge Dam. On May 1 they jumped to 4,600 cfs and then again increased to about 9,000 cfs on May 4. Source: NOAA/CBRFC
Today (May 5) the Bureau was releasing about 9,000 cfs from the dam. While the first pulse (the May 1 release) has made it downstream, the second one has yet to reach Ouray, Utah, if the USGS streamflow gage is any indication. But as that 9k cfs makes it downstream, it should make for some good boating — or at least better than you’d expect during such a dry year — not only on the Green, but also in Cataract Canyon. Whether it will bail out Lake Powell is another question altogether.
The Green River’s “natural” spring runoff occurred in late March and early April. Now an artificially induced one is in its full throes. Whether it will be larger than last year will be determined in the next couple of weeks. Source: USGS.
🗺️ Messing with Maps 🧭
A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the Trump administration’s mapping tool, aimed at making America graze again, showing “potentially available” (i.e. vacant) grazing allotments on public lands. Now the mapping folks at Center for Biological Diversity have taken that map, and overlain it with areas of endangered species’ critical habitat and BLM allotment health status. It can be a little overwhelming to navigate because of all the different layers and colors. But you can turn layers on and off to make it easier to use, and it’s valuable for just understanding the landscape in general.
The Hoover Dam is a powerhouse! With an impressive output of about 3 billion kilowatt-hours of electricity annually, it provides enough energy to light up about 1 million households in Nevada, Arizona, and California, ensuring the lights stay on un the Southwest. Photo credit: USBR
Click the link to read the article on The Havasu News website (Alan Halaly). Here’s an excerpt:
May 1, 2026
In a Thursday joint statement, the Upper Colorado River Basin states of Colorado, Utah, New Mexico and Wyoming called for “immediate mediation” in the yearslong deadlock with the Lower Colorado River Basin states of Nevada, California and Arizona. They offered no details about who could fill that role or which entity would pay for the costs.
“Time is short, but structured negotiations through mediation offer a new path for authentic discussions,” New Mexico’s Upper Colorado River Commissioner Estevan López said in a statement. “Even at this late stage, we should pursue every opportunity to reach a workable agreement.”
[…]
Asked about how a mediator could differ from the federal government’s intervention or the appointment of a so-called “water master” at the U.S. Supreme Court, Entsminger said states are unlikely to view a mediator’s decision-making as binding.
“It’s certainly not litigation; it’s not even arbitration,” Entsminger said. “It’s more of a marriage counselor.”
[…]
Colorado River Board of California Chairman JB Hamby said in a Tuesday statement that his state proposed a mediation process last year. California officials see the need for both long- and short-term solutions, and mediation could push the Upper Basin toward “verifiable water contributions,” Hamby added.
“Effective mediation requires common ground, and the system cannot wait,” Hamby said. “Current conditions require immediate, measurable water reductions from every state.”
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
While some major fossil fuel producers keep pushing for expanded oil and gas use, which is linked to warfare, economic shocks and ecological damage, more than 50 countries at the first Conference on Transitioning Away From Fossil Fuels began developing plans to shift toward renewable energy systems designed for stability and abundance rather than scarcity and conflict.
At the end of the conference, France, where fossil fuels still power about 60 percent of the world’s seventh-largest economy, unveiled a pilot roadmapto phase out coal by 2030, oil by 2045 and gas by 2050, and to electrify sectors such as heating and transport. Colombia’s draft roadmap to largely ditch fossil fuels by 2050 emphasizes that transitioning to renewables could deliver $280 billion for the country in economic benefits.
The countries represented in Santa Marta, Colombia, generate about one-third of global economic activity. They broadly agreed to align their trade and finance policies with their transition plans, potentially creating significant economic momentum toward the faster decarbonization needed to avoid overcooking the planet with greenhouse gases.
The conference can be seen as a climate diplomacy track running parallel with the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, but on a faster train with friendlier passengers, said Ralph Regenvanu, Vanuatu’s minister for climate change adaptation and a leader in efforts to accelerate climate action.
“It’s very heartening to have the Global North and the Global South in the same room, countries willing to talk about transitioning away from fossil fuels,” he said.
Participants and observers described the meeting as a space where fossil fuels themselves, and not just their emissions, were discussed as the root cause of overlapping crises, from conflict and displacement to economic instability. At past UNFCCC climate talks, those connections were often downplayed, especially in official documents.
The conference was convened by the Netherlands and Colombia during the closing days of COP30 in Belém, Brazil, late last year, as frustration grew over a small number of countries blocking any detailed discussions of phasing out fossil fuels. A follow-up meeting is set for early 2027 in Tuvalu, in the Pacific.
Organizers of the Santa Marta meeting also said the work of a special science panel associated with the conference is critical because media ecosystems are overloaded with climate and energy disinformation. Beyond policy details, discussions at the conference also revealed a shift in how energy is understood, shaped by lived experience and generational memory as much as by economics or technology.
Avoiding Past Mistakes
Until a few decades ago, coal miners were celebrated as heroes of prosperity, while kids grew up with “Put a Tiger in Your Tank” ads promising open-road freedom. Fossil fuels were synonymous with progress; many of the people now shaping energy policy came of age in that world, and the story wasn’t necessarily wrong for that time. But in a more crowded, connected world, that same system is now driving instability and climate degradation, and resisting the transition away from fossil fuels seems like longing for horse-and-buggy transport.
For the countries in Santa Marta, it’s not a question of whether to change, it’s how to change without repeating past mistakes. Veteran policy makers shared space with a younger cohort of advocates and negotiators for whom renewable energy systems are a baseline assumption, not an aspirational goal. Many are from developing countries and experience the risks of fossil fuels as immediate rather than as theoretical, and they challenge the fossil fuel industry’s misleading narrative that their products are needed to alleviate poverty.
“War right now is one of the largest contributors to the climate crisis,” said Faotu Jeng, founder of Clean Earth Gambia, a nonprofit group that has sparked environmental progress. Jeng noted that military emissions are not accurately accounted for under the Paris Agreement, which aims to limit global warming.
What will Xcel propose for Pueblo as it makes plans for the retirement of the last of the Comanche coal-burning units in 2030? Photo credit: Allen Best/Big Pivots
If someone were to be dropped from another planet into the North Fork Valley in western Colorado today, they would be forgiven for assuming there is not a water crisis. A thick carpet of green covers the valley floor, the irrigation canals are filled to the brim, trees are leafing out, the river is running and Paonia Reservoir is almost full, and the mountains are still graced with snow.
I didn’t even come from outer space — I think — and I find the contrast between the news reports of water shortages and restrictions and the on-the-ground situation here to be quite jarring. Is it possible that April precipitation has averted the calamity?
A green hay field on a mesa in the North Fork Valley in western Colorado. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Yes, a series of storms, some quite abundant, have moved through the Upper Colorado River Basin, boosting snowpack and soothing the desiccated earth. It has certainly felt cooler and wetter than normal, but that was mostly an illusion brought on by the abnormally dry winter and the searing March heatwave. And it hasn’t been nearly enough to offset the warm winter and the lack of snow, as the graphs below indicate.
As for the full ditches, I guess you could attribute that to a “make hay while the water is available” sort of ethos. You might as well douse the fields and fill ponds while spring runoff is in full swing and the river still runs, knowing that it may not last beyond June. Meanwhile, Paonia Reservoir’s relatively healthy levels are the result of the Fire Mountain irrigation canal — which relies on reservoir water — being shut down for emergency repairs.
Meanwhile, there is a conspicuous absence here in this agricultural hotspot: There are no blossoms or fruit on apple, cherry, peach, or pear trees. The March heatwave sparked a spectacular orchard super-bloom. That was followed by a devastating freeze that killed all of the fruit, even in orchards where extreme preventative measures were taken, and even “burned” the leaves on some trees. Wacky weather indeed.
The North Fork of the Gunnison’s May 1 snowpack this year is tied for the lowest on record with 2012.
The Animas River watershed did get enough of a boost to bring snowpack levels back up above 2002’s for this date. Source: NRCS.
Even with the recent storms, the Upper Colorado River Basin snowpack remained at record-low levels as of May 1. The previous low year (from 40 years of SNOTEL records) was 2012, with 2002 and 2018 not far behind. Source: NRCS.
🐟 Colorado River Chronicles 💧
Phil Lyman, the former and hopeful Utah politician, recently posted this on Facebook:
Just to sum it up: He’s knocking a federal program that pays willing farmers to voluntarily cut off irrigation to their fields in order to conserve water in an effort to balance Colorado River demand with the shrinking supplies. And he’s blaming it all on California.
Lyman’s general sentiment is not new, nor is it uncommon among water users in the Upper Basin states. In fact, it’s basically a cliché. Since I was a kid I’ve heard folks saying something along the lines of: If we don’t use the water, it’ll just run on down to California, where those L.A. folks will guzzle it up to fill their swimming pools and water their golf courses. It’s a rather simplistic view, and one that doesn’t account for the realities of water law or the way the Colorado River system works. In other words, it’s just plain wrong, and a candidate for Congress — as Lyman is — should know better.
Udall/Overpeck 4-panel Figure Colorado River temperature/precipitation/natural flows with trend. Lake Mead and Lake Powell storage. Updated through Water Year 2025. Note the tiny points on the annual data so that you can flyspeck the individual years. Credit: Brad Udall
The Colorado River and its users have a problem: Demand for the water exceeds supply, and the supply is continually shrinking. Since boosting supply is not a feasible option, demand — i.e. consumptive use — must be reduced significantly. While everyone must make cuts, agriculture is the river’s largest water user by far, meaning that sector is going to have to make the largest cuts, by volume. This isn’t about demonizing farmers or alfalfa, it’s not about whether Californians or Utahns are more deserving of the water. It’s simple math.
The farm fallowing program is one way to cut consumption quickly by paying willing farmers to voluntarily forego irrigating some or all of their fields on a year-by-year basis. It’s not ideal, but it is legal, voluntary, and can save junior water rights holders, including cities and towns throughout the watershed, from being forced to shut off their water intakes. And in no way is farm fallowing exclusive to Utah. It’s occurring all over the place.
Let’s do a little fact-check of Lyman’s other points:
Farm fallowing in Utah is being done to benefit California, which “demolished its water storage infrastructure.” No and no. The goal here is to leave a little more water in the river, to keep the whole system from collapsing. Any amount conserved in one place will potentially benefit all other river users, as well as the river itself. Foregoing irrigation on a Utah farm, for example, could help keep the taps on in St. George or some other Utah community that relies on the river. Dams have been removed in California, most significantly four structures on the Lower Klamath River. But those were primarily for hydropower production, not irrigation or water storage, and they are far removed from the Colorado River or any associated water storage.
“Paying farmers not to feed us to bail out California’s failures …” Actually, the feds and state and other programs mostly are paying farmers not to grow alfalfa or hay, which feed cattle, and it has nothing to do with California’s “failures.” Indeed, California grows a lot of alfalfa, too, but it also grows all kinds of vegetables — far more than in Utah.
If the water saved in Utah does make it to the Lower Basin and California, then the biggest beneficiary would be … farmers. Most of the water in the Lower Basin goes to the Imperial Irrigation District, where it is used for farming. Those farmers have also been part of the federal fallowing program, and have managed collectively to reduced their Colorado River water consumption by about nearly 1 million acre-feet since 2003.
Lyman calls for eliminating or restructuring federal farm fallowing programs. I’m curious if he’s talked to the farmers about this, especially the ones who may lose their water and be forced to fallow anyway. Isn’t it better to get paid not to grow something than to not get paid for it?
“… fight to end federal policies that separate water from the people who depend on it. Water rights are property rights.” We all depend on water; the California farmers depend on water just as much as Utah farmers do. Furthermore, the California farmers also own their land, they have some of the most senior water rights on the Colorado River, and according to the “Law of the River,” they could likely go to court to force many Utah farmers to stop irrigating altogether, without compensation. The farm fallowing program does not separate water from the farmers, it simply pays them to temporarily forego irrigation.
“… end the war on farm water.” Look, there is not enough water in the Colorado River for everyone. Everyone will have to take cuts, but irrigated agriculture is the biggest user by far, and therefore will have to make cuts in order to balance supply and demand. It’s simple math: All of Las Vegas and southern Nevada use less than one-tenth of the water that goes to the farms in the Imperial Irrigation District.
“… propose that the federal government build and operate desalination plants in California to free up Colorado River water for Utah …” Desalination will likely be a part of the West’s water future, especially for coastal urban areas. But building the plants, and processing and transporting these kinds of volumes of water, would be outrageously expensive and energy-intensive, which would be especially harmful to farmers, who rely on cheap water.
***
The Bureau of Reclamation recently decreased Glen Canyon Dam releases from about 8,200 cfs to a steady 7,000 cfs (without the usual nighttime reductions). This appears to be the lowest sustained releases since the dam was built, and if continued throughout the entire year would lead to only 5 million acre-feet of annual releases, which would make the Lower Basin states even more grumpy and litigation-happy than they already are.
But not to worry, the feds are still on course to release 6 MAF for the water year, because they released about 10,000 cfs during January and February. Still, it’s going to change the complexion of rafting in the Grand Canyon, for sure, and it is certainly pushing the boundaries of the Grand Canyon Protection Act.
📸 Parting Shot 🎞️
Snow falls on the Abajo Mountains in southeastern Utah as seen from near Dove Creek, Colorado. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Udall/Overpeck 4-panel Figure Colorado River temperature/precipitation/natural flows with trend. Lake Mead and Lake Powell storage. Updated through Water Year 2025. Note the tiny points on the annual data so that you can flyspeck the individual years. Credit: Brad Udall
The Lower Basin States of Arizona, California, and Nevada today advanced a plan to stabilize the Colorado River through 2028, responding to declining reservoir levels, record low inflows to Lake Powell, and increasing risk of reaching critical elevations at both Lake Powell and Lake Mead.
Earlier in the post-2026 process, the Lower Basin took a significant step by proposing 1.25 million acre-feet in annual reductions, with an additional 250,000 acre-feet from Mexico, totaling approximately 1.5 million acre-feet per year.
This proposal builds on that foundation with an expanded system conservation program across the Lower Basin with an estimated contribution of at least 700,000 acre-feet. In total, the plan identifies up to 3.2 million acre-feet of water savings to the system through 2028.
The proposal is an integrated package addressing Lake Powell releases, Upper Initial Unit operations, Lower Basin reductions, additional conservation, use of Intentionally Created Surplus, and system infrastructure improvements. Lower Basin contributions are contingent on these coordinated operations to ensure system stability as well as appropriate funding.
“With this proposal, the Lower Basin is putting forth real action to stabilize water supply along the Colorado River. We’re putting forward additional measurable water contributions for the system. Without that, the system will continue to decline,” said JB Hamby
“This proposal is about moving from ideas to implementation,” said John Entsminger. “It pairs real measurable water contributions with sensible dry-condition operations at Lake Powell and across the Upper Initial Units. Now is the time for every water user in the Basin to double down on water conservation as we face historically dry hydrology.”
“This proposal reflects the creativity and commitment of water users across the Lower Basin who continue to step forward with solutions that support the river,” said Tom Buschatzke. “We have shown that collaborative, voluntary efforts and reductions that are certain can produce meaningful water savings.”
The Lower Basin states recognize the Upper Basin’s call for mediation and are open to that process. However, current conditions require immediate, measurable water reductions from every state. The Lower Basin states stand ready to engage in a meaningful process for long-term solutions while encouraging the Upper Basin to step forward now with verifiable water contributions to help stabilize the system and support a near-term, seven-state bridge.
The Lower Basin states confirmed that the proposal preserves legal accountability under the Colorado River Compact, including Upper Basin delivery obligations, while maintaining a clear path toward a broader agreement among all seven Basin States.
The plan has been advanced to the federal government for consideration as part of the ongoing post-2026 planning process and is intended to provide a near-term bridge through 2028 while long-term operating guidelines are finalized.
Implementation of key elements of the proposal, including expanded system conservation, will require federal partnership. The proposal remains subject to approval by the Arizona Legislature and relevant California and Nevada water agency governing boards.
Colorado River. Photo credit: Central Arizona Project
May 1, 2026
The situation on the Colorado River is dire. Flows have reached historic lows and water saved in major storage reservoirs is approaching critical elevations. To date, solutions to the crisis have been elusive, with lengthy litigation looming as the seven states that share the river have been unable to agree on an appropriate remedy to the situation. That is why today’s announcement that the Lower Division States of Arizona, California and Nevada have come together to announce a bridge proposal that will support the entire Colorado River system through 2028 represents a welcome lifeline and cause for hope. This three-state proposal is a two-year, comprehensive package that will commit a minimum of 3.2 million acre-feet of Lower Division water savings in Lake Mead by 2028
The proposal is a bridge, a pathway to future operations that extend beyond the expiration of the existing river operating guidelines at the end of 2026. However, this massive sacrifice by the Lower Division States is only possible by implementing the entire proposal, which requires a series of critical actions by the federal government. The federal government must commit the remainder of Colorado River drought funding to offset impacts to Lower Division users, create a tribal pool to meet federal responsibilities to tribal communities, and use the reservoirs upstream of Lake Mead for their foundational purpose — meeting water delivery obligations to the Lower Division. Congress built those upstream dams for the purpose of releasing water and meeting minimum obligations to the Lower Division under the Colorado River Compact during an extended drought like the one we face today and now, the dams must be used as mandated by Congress.
Today’s announcement is the latest in a series of actions by the Lower Division States to preserve the stability of the Colorado River system. Lake Mead would be in the mud if not for Lower Division water users leaving water in the lake to protect the system, and every drop that has been left in Lake Mead is benefiting Lake Powell and the Upper Division by allowing for less water to be released downstream.
But Lower Division actions alone cannot protect the entire system from extraordinarily dry years. This year is an example where, despite the Lower Division’s ongoing reductions and contributions, Lake Powell needed additional emergency action.
While this new Lower Division bridge requires no action from the Upper Division states, it is well past time that the Upper Division States agree to be part of the solution by committing to verifiably conserve water and end their out-of-touch demand that the Upper Division be allowed to increase their total uses from a shrinking system.
The Central Arizona Project applauds the Lower Division States for developing the proposal and urges the federal government to speedily approve this emergency effort to bridge the river system through 2028.
The Center for Biological Diversity, the San Carlos Apache Tribe and the Lower San Pedro Watershed Alliance today filed a notice of their intent to sue the U.S. Bureau of Land Management and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service over the Copper Creek Exploration Project near Mammoth, Arizona. The groups say the agencies violated the Endangered Species Act by allowing mining exploration drilling that threatens Mexican spotted owls and other imperiled wildlife.
“Federal officials were warned that Mexican spotted owls are in the area but pushed this mining project ahead anyway and skipped steps required by law,” said Russ McSpadden, a Southwest conservation advocate at the Center for Biological Diversity. “The Endangered Species Act is supposed to protect imperiled wildlife before damage is done, not after agencies brush aside the evidence and greenlight industrial drilling. This mining project is clearly illegal and it must be stopped.”
Today’s notice focuses on Mexican spotted owls, rare birds who depend on the rugged canyon and forest habitat of the Southwest. Federal data estimates there are roughly 1,300 known owl territories in the U.S., representing only a few thousand birds in small, fragmented and declining populations. Mexican spotted owls have been protected as threatened under the Endangered Species Act since 1993.
“The Lower San Pedro watershed is one of Arizona’s most important wildlife corridors, and this exploration project is pushing industrial disturbance into a landscape that is already under pressure,” said Melissa Crytzer Fry, chair for the Lower San Pedro Watershed Alliance. “When agencies ignore clear evidence and fail to follow the law, local communities are left to defend the river, the habitat and the species that make this place irreplaceable. We shared trail camera images with the BLM showing Mexican spotted owls in the area and were utterly ignored.”
The groups say the BLM approved the drilling project last summer despite receiving photographs showing Mexican spotted owls in the area. The agency still concluded the species was “not present” and failed to initiate consultation with the Fish and Wildlife Service, as required by the Endangered Species Act.
The Copper Creek project is already underway, bringing industrial drilling, bright lights, heavy noise, truck traffic, surface disturbance and groundwater pumping into sensitive habitat in and around Copper Creek Canyon, an important tributary of the Lower San Pedro River. These public lands and waterways support significant wildlife resources, including habitat for one of the Southwest’s most vulnerable owl species, and require management based on the best available science.
The notice letter also challenges the agencies’ analysis of harms to the threatened yellow-billed cuckoo, saying they failed to adequately assess how exploration-related groundwater pumping and noise could affect the bird’s habitat in the Lower San Pedro watershed. Cuckoo rely on healthy streams for habitat and prey during their nesting season.
The agencies failed to analyze how extensive helicopter surveying of the project area may harm both Mexican spotted owls and yellow-billed cuckoos. Aerial surveillance requires helicopters to fly extremely close to the ground, causing loud noise and surface disturbance that can be disruptive to wildlife.
Copper Creek Canyon. Photo credit: Russ McSpadden/Center for Biological Diversity
This story was produced by Circle of Blue, in partnership with The Water Desk at the University of Colorado Boulder’s Center for Environmental Journalism.
KEY POINTS
Glen Canyon Dam, completed in 1963, was not designed to be operated at extremely low water levels in Lake Powell.
The decline of Lake Powell is putting hydropower generation and downstream water deliveries at risk.
The Bureau of Reclamation, the federal water manager, is studying options for retrofitting Glen Canyon Dam.
In the span of U.S. history certain years are turning points, milestones in the nation’s story. 1776. 1865. 1929. 1968. Circumstance and consequence conspire to make it so.
For the Colorado River and those who rely on it, 2026 is on the verge of similar prominence. Circumstances in the basin today are that urgent.
Udall/Overpeck 4-panel Figure Colorado River temperature/precipitation/natural flows with trend. Lake Mead and Lake Powell storage. Updated through Water Year 2025. Note the tiny points on the annual data so that you can flyspeck the individual years. Credit: Brad Udall
A slow-developing water supply calamity, decades in the making, has boiled over, like a cold war turning hot. Extreme heat in March – triple-digit temperatures never witnessed that early in the year – obliterated a meager snowpack. The basin’s big reservoirs, the supposed buffers against short-term drought, were already uncomfortably low after a quarter-century of declining river flows. They will drop even lower. The amount of water flowing this summer into Lake Powell, the nation’s second-largest reservoir, will be one of the smallest ever measured, barely a trickle.
“This is unprecedented, but it’s not unpredicted,” said Eric Balken, executive director of the Glen Canyon Institute. “I like to say that this is the most predicted disaster of all time.”
Lake Powell is formed by Glen Canyon Dam, a striking 710-ft tall concrete arch braced against ruddy sandstone walls. It plugs the Colorado just after the river enters Arizona. Meant to ensure water deliveries to the lower basin states of Arizona, California, and Nevada, Glen Canyon Dam was finished in 1963 to complement the Colorado River’s audacious engineering that distributes water through mountains and uphill to the largest cities in the Southwest and to the region’s most productive farmland. When full, Lake Powell holds enough water to flood the entire state of Virginia to the depth of one foot.
Climate change and water demand that still exceeds supply have flipped the engineering script. Lake Powell is less than 25 percent full today. Glen Canyon Dam, instead of being a guarantor of water, is now the most significant water chokepoint in the basin. The hard-won asset has become a glaring liability.
The back of Glen Canyon Dam circa 1964, not long after the reservoir had begun filling up. Here the water level is above dead pool, meaning water can be released via the river outlets, but it is below minimum power pool, so water cannot yet enter the penstocks to generate electricity. Bureau of Reclamation photo. Annotations: Jonathan P. Thompson
The reversal of fortune is because of how Glen Canyon Dam was designed. The dam was never meant to be operated at the extremely low water levels that Lake Powell is rapidly approaching. Doing so for extended periods of time could damage the pipes that move water through the dam, according to the Bureau of Reclamation, the federal agency that manages the structure.
Reclamation is now studying its options for retrofitting Glen Canyon Dam to accommodate a lower Lake Powell. It expects to release those findings later this year or in early 2027. As any home remodeler knows, renovating an aging structure is neither quick nor cheap, especially when failure could have disastrous consequences.
In the short term, Reclamation is relying on operational band-aids for Glen Canyon Dam and Lake Powell. With the consent of the seven states in the basin – Arizona, California, Colorado, Nevada, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming – the agency took unprecedented action this month to prop up the reservoir. Releasing more water from upstream reservoirs and holding back more in Powell will delay Glen Canyon’s infrastructure reckoning. But that day will soon come, and Reclamation’s answer to the dam’s engineering problems will have far-reaching implications – not only for the reliability of the basin’s water supply, but also for its power customers, ecology, and recreation economy.
An Assessment Deferred
Dams are difficult to manage under any circumstance. Management is even more troublesome when operators must balance multiple, conflicting objectives. In Glen Canyon’s case those objectives are water supply, flood control, hydropower generation, and releasing water to protect the ecology downstream in the Grand Canyon – namely, beach-building and threatened native fish like the humpback chub. This is in addition to ensuring the safe operation of the dam itself.
How to operate Glen Canyon Dam and Hoover Dam, its larger downstream sibling, is what the seven basin states and Reclamation are attempting to figure out right now. The current agreement covers operations through 2026. Reclamation published a draft environmental impact statement, or EIS, in January that would impose severe cuts on water users in the lower basin, particularly Arizona, in part to protect Glen Canyon Dam’s fragile infrastructure.
For that reason, water users in the lower basin and elsewhere support an engineering fix for Glen Canyon Dam. Many were incredulous that Reclamation did not include an assessment of dam modifications in its draft environmental analysis.
“This EIS could have been a great avenue to look at real changes at Glen Canyon Dam that could solve the water delivery problem and some of the ecological problems, too,” Balken said.
Patrick Dent is the assistant general manager for water policy at the Central Arizona Project (CAP), which delivers Colorado River water to the densely populated center of the state. He said that CAP does not favor any particular fix – only one that provides dam managers with more flexibility.
“Our primary interest is that they could release water at a lower lake level,” Dent said.
The Gila River Indian Community, which receives Colorado River water through CAP, told Reclamation that the agency has a duty to safeguard the tribe’s water rights, which are at risk if the dam cannot release enough water. “The United States must take action to fix Glen Canyon Dam,” Gov. Stephen Roe Lewis wrote in a March 2026 letter.
The Colorado Water Conservation Board, which represents that state’s water interests, said it supports a reevaluation of Glen Canyon Dam, but “in a separate action” from the EIS.
Becki Bryant, a Reclamation spokesperson, said the agency will release an appraisal study assessing three dam modification alternatives at the end of this year or in early 2027. Any action beyond the study, she said, requires congressional authorization and funding.
Illustration from the report, “Antique Plumbing & Leadership Postponed” from the Utah Rivers Council, Glen Canyon Institute and the Great Basin Water Network. Courtesy of Utah Rivers Council
‘Antiquated Plumbing’
The tool for managing the dam’s multiple objectives, which are a legislative requirement as well as a practical necessity, is the water held in Lake Powell, said David Wegner, a scientist who has worked on Glen Canyon policy for more than four decades. But even water has limits when the engineering is inadequate. “Sadly, these dams were not built for multiple objectives,” Wegner said. And Glen Canyon was certainly not built for extremely low water, he added.
The problem with Glen Canyon is what a coalition of environmental groups calls the dam’s “antiquated plumbing.” The groups – Glen Canyon Institute, Great Basin Water Network, and Utah Rivers Council – published a report in August 2022 that outlined these engineering deficiencies.
Water can exit Glen Canyon in only three ways. One is the spillways, a pressure-release valve for flooding, which are located at elevation 3,648 feet, near the top of the dam. They are irrelevant today. Lake Powell rests 122 feet below them.
The main exit point is through the eight penstocks, the 15-foot diameter tubes that move water through the turbines to generate hydroelectricity. The penstocks are incapacitated when Powell drops below 3,490 feet. (The lake today is 36 feet higher than that level.) If the lake falls below what is known as minimum power pool, hydropower generation also ceases.
If that happens, water must be released through four 8-foot diameter pipes called the river outlet works. Smaller than the penstocks, the river outlet works are located at elevation 3,370. Below that elevation water cannot be released from Powell, a status known ominously as “dead pool.” (Functionally, the river outlet works may be useless at elevation 3,394, Reclamation says.)
The environmental groups identified two limitations with the river outlet works. One is that they were not designed to be operated full-time. They are a role player, not the star. The other is that their smaller size means less water can pass through them. That’s a problem because the upper basin states of Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming are required to send a set amount of water downstream to the lower basin, according to the 1922 Colorado River Compact that divided the river.
The flow restrictions imposed by the river outlet works, if they had to be used full time, means that the upper basin could violate the compact, which could mean water cutbacks imposed by the lower basin.
“It’s just so counterintuitive that the tool that was designed to meet this delivery obligation” – the construction of Glen Canyon Dam – “is now going to be the roadblock that may prevent the delivery obligation from being met,” said Balken of the Glen Canyon Institute.
The engineering problems are not a new discovery. Wegner, who was with the Bureau of Reclamation at the time as its Grand Canyon environmental studies manager, helped lead a 1987 National Academies report on Glen Canyon. The report recommended that the Interior Department consider the “installation and operation of multiple outlet structures” at Glen Canyon, which would give dam managers more flexibility with water releases.
Glen Canyon’s structural problems were substantiated in 2023, when Reclamation used the river outlet works during an experimental “high-flow” release of water to flush sediment downstream and rebuild eroding Grand Canyon beaches.
The high-volume release caused pitting, or cavitation, within the river outlet works, a risk that was heightened due to the physics of water when Lake Powell is low. Reclamation coated the pipes with epoxy as a temporary fix to prevent more damage, a process that took several months. The agency has since used two small-scale physical models at its Technical Service Center in Denver to test dam operations at low water levels and the effect on infrastructure.
Reclamation acknowledged the limitations of the river outlet works in a technical memopublished in March 2024 by Richard Lafond, director of the agency’s Technical Service Center. The memo’s conclusions were endorsed by the top decision-makers in Reclamation’s Upper Colorado River Office.
“Long term operation of the river outlet works will result in accelerating regular operation and maintenance tasks,” LaFond wrote. Reclamation should “not rely on the river outlet works as the sole means for releasing water from Glen Canyon Dam.”
Wegner put it in starker terms. If the river outlet works had to be relied upon and the pipes began to erode again, then Reclamation could potentially lose control of water flows.
“Potentially that could fail,” Wegner said, meaning an inability to control water releases through the dam if the pipes are structurally compromised. “And if that fails, now you have a catastrophe on your hand and you have limited options to manage that catastrophe.”
In other words, there would be no way to release water downstream into the Grand Canyon and into the lower basin.
Neither Quick Nor Easy
What fixes are possible? Reclamation received $2 million from Congress in the fiscal year 2022 budget for an appraisal study.
Reclamation outlined three engineering possibilities in a 2023 presentation, most of which centered on preserving hydropower generation as Lake Powell declines.
One possibility is a new, lower intake that uses the existing power generation turbines. An intake located deeper in the reservoir would allow Glen Canyon to pass water in what is currently dead pool. But it would entail “increased risk from penetration through the dam.”
The second would connect new power generation equipment to the river outlet works.
The third option is tunneling through the canyon wall and installing a new underground power station. This would also provide more flexibility for water releases.
Reclamation also included three operational or policy changes for power production, including investing in wind and solar to offset hydropower declines.
Other ideas that seemed kooky and fringe just a few years ago – draining Lake Powell and filling Lake Mead first; changing the basin’s water accounting system – are now being discussed throughout the basin with more seriousness and candor.
Beyond that presentation, Reclamation has not said much publicly about dam modification. The agency declined an interview request to discuss Glen Canyon Dam’s engineering problems.
Whatever direction Reclamation chooses – an option outlined above or something new – the process will not be quick or easy. Any change to Glen Canyon must go through an environmental analysis and public comment period. Congress will have to authorize actions and appropriate the funds. Construction alone will take years.
Wegner, who was the staff director for the House Natural Resources Water and Power Subcommittee from 2008 to 2014, knows the difficulty and sees a lack of leadership. “There’s nobody in Washington who has been willing to lead the charge trying to get Congress to provide authorized funding to do this sort of work.”
‘Reservoir Triage’
Because Reclamation is not confident it can operate the river outlet works for an extended run, the agency is focused on keeping Powell above elevation 3,500 feet.
Protecting 3,500 feet comes with all sorts of baggage. It preserves hydropower generation, which power customers appreciate. But in effect the redline at that elevation strands some 4.4 million acre-feet in Lake Powell. (Only 3.7 million acre-feet is technically accessible with the current plumbing.) Some have called this elevation a “de facto” dead pool. Thus, the agitation in the lower basin for a plumbing system within the dam that provides access to this water.
Balken said that downstream water deliveries, not preserving hydropower, should be Reclamation’s biggest concern.
“When these decision makers are talking about Glen Canyon Dam from only a hydropower perspective, I think it’s missing the larger point, which is the dam is about to become the biggest roadblock of water deliveries that the basin has ever seen,” Balken said.
Flaming Gorge Reservoir, on the Green River, straddles the Wyoming-Utah border south of Rock Springs. The Flaming Gorge dam, on the Utah side, was completed in 1964 and is a critical component of the Colorado River water storage system. The Green River, the chief tributary to the Colorado River, originates in the Wind River Range, flows to Flaming Gorge Reservoir, then connects with the Colorado River in Canyonlands National Park in Utah.
To avoid the infrastructure risks of dropping below 3,500 feet, Reclamation has started to take extraordinary action. The agency has two emergency levers it is pulling. One is to hold more water back in Lake Powell. Reclamation cut water releases to the legal minimum this year, something it has never done. The other is releasing more water from Flaming Gorge, a reservoir upstream that is in better shape.
As Balken describes it, “This is reservoir triage.”
These emergency actions have serious side-effects. Upstream, Flaming Gorge is expected to lose 35 feet of elevation by next spring, once the extra water has been released. That will hurt the recreation economy of northeastern Utah and southwestern Wyoming – fewer boat ramps in the water, less fishing access.
These upstream releases have limited utility, Wegner said. “You can do that once or twice. But you got to then depend upon Mother Nature refilling those reservoirs upstream.”
Hoover Dam at low water. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Downstream, Lake Mead will drop quickly and it too will approach a level in which hydropower generation at Hoover Dam severely drops. Algal blooms in a warmer, shallower lake could be a problem. “They’re going to be robbing Mead to pay Powell,” Balken said.
Trying Not to Hit Bottom
The idea of dead pool – when Lake Powell can no longer release water – was almost inconceivable when the reservoir was designed and filled. The official device for measuring Lake Powell’s elevation ends at the top of the penstocks, at elevation 3,477.5 feet. According to Reclamation’s 2024 technical memo, “This is an indication that reservoir elevations below minimum power pool” – 3,490 feet – “were not anticipated.”
Cavitation at the Glen Canyon Dam, the cause of the emergency in 1983 via Flow Science.
Reclamation finished filling the reservoir in 1980. Three years later, after an intense El Niño winter, the dam’s upper limits were tested. Floodwaters in the summer of 1983 nearly broke the dam. Such volumes are almost inconceivable now.
In a typical year, Lake Powell would be rising in late April, flush with the deposits of snowmelt from headwater basins in the Rocky Mountains. Not this year. The snowpack peaked in many basins in late February or early March. What little snow there was has already melted. As of April 28, Lake Powell inflows are projected to be just 16 percent of average. Lake level forecasts from mid-April showed a long downward slope for the next 12 months. Those projections were what triggered the emergency release of water from Flaming Gorge and the reduction in Lake Powell releases.
Scientists have been warning about circumstances like this for years. In a defining period for the basin, all the predictions of water supply shocks in the Colorado River from the past two decades are coming to pass.
“We should have been prepared for this,” Balken said.
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
Click the link to read the article on the Tucson.com website (Tony Davis). Here’s an excerpt:
April 26, 2026
It’s time to bring in a mediator to handle the prolonged dispute over managing the Colorado River between the Upper and Lower Colorado River Basin states, representatives of the four Upper Basin states say.
“The proposal for mediation attempts to address the current deadlock between Upper Basin and Lower Basin approaches and begin to deal with the basin’s dire hydrologic conditions.” said the Upper Colorado River Commission, which represents Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Wyoming.
“The commissioners believe a structured mediation process can support authentic negotiations and collective action to address the Basin’s operational challenges,” the commission said in a news release last week.
The request for a mediator to handle this dispute follows about two years of fruitless negotiations among the various state representatives. There have been several major sources of dispute, but the biggest one has been over how the two basins should split the cuts in river water use that would be needed to bring human demand in line with shrinking supply…The Upper Basin states’ request comes not long before the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation is supposed to announce its plan for managing the river, in the absence of an agreement among the basin states. A new plan is necessary because the river’s current operating guidelines expire Sept. 30…
The request for mediation also comes as the river’s condition continues to deteriorate. Hot, dry weather has held down water flows in the river for most of the year, and there’s a risk that spring-summer runoff into Lake Powell will be the lowest on record since Lake Powell started filling in the 1960s.
Click the link to read the article on the Summit Daily website (Ali Longwell). Here’s an excerpt:
April 20, 2026
With a historic drought hitting the Colorado River basin, the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation is making preparations to slow releases from the river’s largest reservoir while increasing withdrawals from an Upper Basin reservoir.
“Given the severity of the risks facing the Colorado River system, it is imperative that we take action quickly to protect a resource that supplies water to 40 million people and supports vital agricultural, hydropower production, tribal, wildlife and recreational uses across the region,” said Andrea Travnice, the Bureau of Reclamation’s assistant secretary of water and science in a Friday, April 17 news release…
As a result, the Bureau of Reclamation is anticipating that inflow to Lake Powell will be 29% of the historical average, which it reports is one of the lowest on record. If water levels fall below a certain elevation — below 3,490 feet or roughly 15% of its capacity — it can impact operations, regional power and water supplies as well as reduce hydroelectric power generation. The Bureau is projecting it could hit this minimum power pool level by August. As of April 19, Lake Powell and Lake Mead were 24% and 32% full, respectively.
View below Flaming Gorge Dam from the Green River, eastern Utah. Photo credit: USGS
The Colorado River carves through mud left behind from Lake Powell when the reservoir was at full pool, near Hite, Utah in October 2022. (Alexander Heilner/The Water Desk with aerial support from LightHawk)
This year’s historic winter of low snow might feel novel. But recent years give some insight into just how dry the West’s most important river system can get. This season’s scant snowpack is melting rapidly, and turning up memories of other notably dry years.
Prolonged drought conditions and warming temperatures since 2000 have produced severe single-year droughts in 2002, 2012, 2018 and 2020 in the river’s headwaters states of Colorado, Wyoming and Utah. As severe drought years continue to put the Southwest’s water infrastructure to the test, communities in the region are grappling with how best to understand and adapt to a changing climate.
2002 stands as the worst drought on record for the Colorado River, measured as the flow into one of its biggest reservoirs, Lake Powell on the Utah-Arizona border. It’s possible 2026 could break that record. Back then the year acted as a wake-up call to the region’s water leaders, spurred important policy changes, and reshaped attitudes around conservation.
We asked Colorado River experts Eric Kuhn, Jeff Lukas and Jim Lochhead to share five important takeaways from the 2002 drought, and what to know as we enter the warmer, drier months of 2026.
1. Reservoirs have memory
Reservoirs act as batteries for water availability, charged by inputs such as snowmelt, streams, rivers and precipitation.
“What you did two or three years ago can affect your water supply now,” said Eric Kuhn, former general manager for the Colorado River Water Conservation District. “So in a good year, if you are conserving, you are actually helping the system out for the next drought.”
The 2002 drought prompted municipal utilities to rethink their reservoir usage.
“Water managers and agencies have absorbed several lessons from 2002, including holding something back. They’re operating the reservoirs a little differently,” said Jeff Lukas, an independent climate and water researcher who has lived on Colorado’s Front Range for 40 years.
By conserving reservoir water, municipal utilities can maintain water storage for less abundant water years of the future. But as dry conditions have dogged the entire Colorado River basin for more than a quarter-century, the system’s buffer is gone.
“The biggest issue is that Lake Powell and Lake Mead were relatively full in 2002,” Kuhn said. Now, both Lake Powell and Lake Mead are at critically low levels, and the water scarcity is increasing the likelihood of multi-state litigation.
In 2002, drought was dealt with on a local level; water utilities were not thinking about drought in terms of the entire river system, but instead how to regulate municipal water use. This year’s dry conditions are pushing the whole region to the brink.
2. Conservation can make a big difference, if it is mandatory
Individual contributions to water conservation, adhering to local outdoor watering restrictions for example, can make a difference. Prompted by the 2002 drought, a 2004 University of Colorado study aimed to measure the effectiveness of water restrictions put in place by water providers on the state’s populated Front Range.
The study followed municipal water providers Thornton, Aurora, Westminster, Fort Collins, Boulder, Louisville, Lafayette and Denver Water, comparing 2002 usage to average water usage in 2000 and 2001. Researchers determined that water restrictions are most effective when mandatory. Mandatory restrictions in Lafayette reduced water usage by as much as 53%, according to the study.
The same study found that under mandatory restrictions, savings of expected water use per capita was as successful as 56%, while voluntary restrictions only measured up to 12%.
Outdoor watering represents a big slice of a city’s water budget, and 2002 showed utilities that in times of crisis people can rein in their use.
“Everyone should realize that they can make a small contribution to the solution,” Kuhn said. “Even though their individual contribution might be miniscule, when you add up all their neighbors and other people, it’s not miniscule. It’s very, very big.”
Watering a lawn once or twice a week, and not during peak hours, is a practical way to conserve water while keeping grass alive.
3. This is not a one-off year
It’s easy to shrug off a dry year and hope for wet weather’s return. But the long-term trends are concerning.
“This is really the 26th year of extreme drought,” said former Denver Water CEO Jim Lochhead. On a larger scale, the seven Colorado River basin states—Arizona, California, Colorado, Nevada, New Mexico, Utah and Wyoming—have been preparing for worsening drought conditions since the shock of 2002. But river policy hasn’t kept pace with the aridification, leaving the region’s largest reservoirs at near record lows.
The Colorado River flows through canyons in northern Arizona in October 2020. (Ross Rice/The Water Desk & LightHawk)
“This has been a slow moving train that I think the states have known was coming, and they have frankly failed to do anything about it,” said Lochhead, who also represented the state of Colorado amid interstate Colorado River negotiations in the 1990s and early 2000s.
The Colorado Climate Center anticipates droughts to increase in severity and frequency, a trend that is only expected to continue in Colorado and across the Southwest as warming temperatures upend the water cycle.
“We should be managing and thinking about water, using water, as though it were always a drought,” Lukas said.
4. Communities have more practice dealing with drought, but still struggle
Drought conditions in 2002 led some municipal water utilities to organize and create incentives for conservation, and transformed the urban landscape, swapping grass for more drought-tolerant plants. Those water restrictions allowed municipal water providers to curb water demand while steadily growing in size. However, there is still room for improvement in disproportionately affected communities.
According to Lochhead, urban areas need to prioritize heat reduction in neighborhoods that have fewer trees in order to lessen the impacts of drought and warming temperatures. Using scarce water supplies to encourage tree-planting and increase shade should remain a priority.
“I think we need to work with those communities to enhance some landscaping,” Lochhead said. “Whether it’s the homeless population, whether it’s just kids that are out, whatever it may be, those areas are where they’re pretty hard hit by heat.”
Farmers and ranchers are used to riding the highs and lows of western weather. But extremely dry years like 2002, and now 2026, can push their operations to the limits.
“This is going to be a really tough year,” Lukas said. “You’re going to have a lot of people selling off their herds and taking insurance out because of low crop yields.”
The majority of Colorado’s annual water supply is used for irrigation, so any proposed restrictions can be costly for the agricultural community. “There are going to be a lot of farms and ranches that just can’t operate because they don’t have any water,” Lochhead said. “There are going to be some significant economic consequences.”
5. Stay aware, even if things seem bleak
For Lukas, this year and its predecessors test our expectations about what nature can provide.
Even in periods of prolonged drought, there are wet years. “Judging from history, that tends to put everyone back on their heels, a little complacent,” Lukas said, but maintaining water storage relies on year-to-year vigilance, not complacency.
Another primary concern during drought years is wildfire. With less moisture in the soil, dry vegetation acts as fuel for wildfire, which becomes harder to contain under hot and dry conditions.
“I worry a lot less about municipal water supply than I do about wildfire,” Lukas said. Many of Colorado’s notably dry years have also recorded severe and destructive wildfires.
It comes at no surprise that worsening drought falls in line with worsening wildfires. “Climate change is delivered to people through changes in the hydrologic cycle,” Kuhn said, so being aware of water usage now is just as, if not more important as it was in 2002.
This story was produced and distributed by The Water Desk at the University of Colorado Boulder’s Center for Environmental Journalism.
The federal government ordered Flaming Gorge water released and cuts to Lake Powell releases, to prevent collapse.
Last week, the federal government ordered emergency measures to prevent water levels at Lake Powell from falling so low that Glen Canyon Dam, which created the reservoir, could no longer generate power or deliver water downstream. Without this intervention, models showed that the reservoir could drop below safe operating levels in August, meaning that the river would not have a reliable way to flow past the dam. This would threaten water and power supplies for millions of people across the Southwest, as well as the flow of water through the Grand Canyon.
Westwide SNOTEL basin-filled map April 24, 2026.
Across the Colorado River Basin, an extremely low snowpack combined with a record-shattering March heat wave, have left water managers with few other options. The region’s reservoirs were already depleted from years of relying on wet winters to balance the growing demand with the ongoing drought.
Flaming Gorge Reservoir, on the Green River, straddles the Wyoming-Utah border south of Rock Springs. The Flaming Gorge dam, on the Utah side, was completed in 1964 and is a critical component of the Colorado River water storage system. The Green River, the chief tributary to the Colorado River, originates in the Wind River Range, flows to Flaming Gorge Reservoir, then connects with the Colorado River in Canyonlands National Park in Utah.
“This is a short-term solution,” said Jenny Dumas, water attorney for the Jicarilla Apache Nation, which sits near the border of Colorado and New Mexico. “It’s going to take time to recover these reservoirs before we can do this again. So while we can exhaust our reserves to avoid system collapse this year, it means reserves won’t be there next year.”
This is not the first time water managers have turned to Flaming Gorge to stabilize the larger river system. In 2022, the federal government ordered the reservoir to release 550,000 acre-feet to stabilize the downstream river system, which disrupted recreation and rattled upstream communities. This time, Reclamation has authorized releases of up to 1 million acre-feet. Over the next year, a third of the reservoir’s storage is expected to be gradually released. By September, water levels are projected to drop about 12 feet.
Flaming Gorge Reservoir stores water from the Green River in Wyoming, and is shared by Wyoming and Utah. Ted Wood/The Water Desk
“This is an unprecedented release volume — more than double the last time,” said Amy Haas, executive director of the Colorado River Authority of Utah, who briefed communities bracing for the releases at Flaming Gorge Reservoir. “We really just don’t know the actual impacts of these releases to surrounding communities, and our water users are struggling. My goodness, we are on target to become one of the worst water years on record. The forecasts are stunning to all of us.
The amount of water projected to flow into the river from snowmelt is rapidly declining. Over the first two weeks of April, forecasts for Lake Powell fell by 500,000 acre-feet. The spring forecast is shifting so quickly, some experts believe the releases from Flaming Gorge may need to increase.
“I think it’s a target, and they’re going to have to revise it,” said veteran water manager and researcher Eric Kuhn, who co-authored a paper last September predicting this kind of shortage and calling for action. “It’s many river miles from Flaming Gorge to Lake Powell. What are the transit losses?”
“Also, when March looked like June, what are June and July going to look like?” he added. “I could easily see that 1 million becomes 1.5 million acre-feet by March of 2027.”
Kuhn sees the emergency actions as a sign of broader failure to address the underlying issues that led to the current situation. “The Department of Interior no longer acknowledges that the fundamental problem is climate change. We’re dealing with the symptoms of the disease. We’re not dealing with the underlying problem,” he said. “The law of the river was written for a river that no longer exists from a hydrologic standpoint.”
In a meeting Tuesday, Upper Basin state commissioners acknowledged the need for emergency action but warned that this was not a long-term solution.
“I want to make darn sure people understand … the incredibly difficult, heartbreaking decisions that are having to be made with the lives of generations of cattle production, and farming communities in the Upper Basin states,” particularly in Utah, said Gene Shawcroft, Utah’s Colorado River commissioner.
Wyoming Commissioner Brandon Gebhardt reported that 13,000 acres of agricultural land in the South Piney drainage on the eastern slopes of the Wyoming Range had been cut off from water, adding that even some of the state’s oldest and most senior water rights — some dating to 1898 — will likely be impacted.
“We expect three of the five Flaming Gorge boat ramps in Wyoming will be rendered unusable, and low reservoir levels will have long-lasting negative impacts on reservoir fisheries,” said Gebhardt. “We recognize what we are approving today will have significant negative impacts on our water resources, local economies and recreation.”
Map of the San Juan River, a tributary of the Colorado River, in Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Utah, USA. Made using USGS National Map data. By Shannon1 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=47456307
Shortage is affecting more than agriculture and recreation. The Ute Mountain Ute Tribe, for example, reported its sacred springs going dry, affecting ceremonies, and the tribal farm will have to operate with just 14% of its normal water supply. Meanwhile, the Jicarilla Apache Nation said it received just 25% to 35% of its contracted water allocation, leaving tribal leaders uncertain about whether they can divert enough water from the Navajo River to meet the community’s domestic needs.
With no sign of long-term agreement on how to manage the river past September, legal tensions among the basin states remain high.
Arizona’s Department of Water Resources released a statement agreeing with plans to order upstream releases to stabilize Lake Powell but also warning that the revised downstream releases were “substantially less than required under the 1922 Colorado River Compact,” referencing the foundational legal document dividing the river. “Failure to comply,” the release stated, “is itself a serious development that Arizona will assess and respond to accordingly.”
Upper Basin state commissioners plan to hold a special meeting to revisit the issue and vote on whether to continue emergency actions past August after assessing water levels and determining whether or not the releases are working.
Regardless of the possible legal battles, the reduced water in the river, infrastructure limits and political gridlock have left basin communities feeling uncertain about their future water security. After the planned releases from Flaming Gorge, if next winter brings another dry year, it is unlikely that upstream reservoirs will have enough water to stabilize Lake Powell.
The basin needs more than emergency actions, Dumas said. “We really want to emphasize the need for serious and permanent changes in how we use and manage the river to adjust to current and future hydrology.”
This story was produced by High Country News, in partnership with The Water Deskat the University of Colorado Boulder’s Center for Environmental Journalism.
Illustration from the report, “Antique Plumbing & Leadership Postponed” from the Utah Rivers Council, Glen Canyon Institute and the Great Basin Water Network. Courtesy of Utah Rivers Council
Click the link to read the article on the Aspen Public Radio website (Caroline Llanes). Here’s an excerpt:
April 21, 2026
The agency announced on April 17 that it would release between 600-thousand and one million acre feet of water from Flaming Gorge Reservoir on the Wyoming-Utah state line over the course of the next year. In addition, Reclamation will reduce the amount of water it sends from Lake Powell through Glen Canyon Dam, decreasing flows downstream through the Grand Canyon and into Lake Mead. Through September 2026, the agency will reduce its annual release volume from about 7.5 million acre feet of water to just 6 million acre feet.
Westwide SNOTEL basin-filled map April 23, 2026.
The drought contingency actions come in response to a water year that has been incredibly dire for the Western United States and the Colorado River Basin. Snowpack has been at record lows for much of the winter, which is bad news for a region that relies on snowmelt for much of its water use. The forecast for runoff into Lake Powell from the entire Upper Basin is forecast to be just 23% of normal. The agency estimates that these combined actions will boost Lake Powell’s elevation by 54 feet over the course of the year, bringing it to 3,500 feet in April 2027. Currently, Lake Powell’s elevation is about 3,528 feet. 3,490 feet is the elevation at which hydropower can no longer be produced at Glen Canyon Dam. Any lower, and water will not be able to enter the hydroelectric turbines. Instead, the water has to go through what’s called “river outlet works,” which are tunnels that bypass the turbines to get the water downstream to the Colorado River.
The back of Glen Canyon Dam circa 1964, not long after the reservoir had begun filling up. Here the water level is above dead pool, meaning water can be released via the river outlets, but it is below minimum power pool, so water cannot yet enter the penstocks to generate electricity. Bureau of Reclamation photo. Annotations: Jonathan P. Thompson
Seth Arens, a hydrologist at the Western Water Assessment, said Glen Canyon Dam was not designed to have the river outlet works as the primary way to get water out of the reservoir.
“When the Bureau of Reclamation has used those river outlet tubes, most of the times they’ve used them, there’ve been some damage to those tubes,” he said. “They’ve had to repair damages after relatively short uses, you know, a scale of weeks dumping water out of those.”
Environmental attorney Chris Winter said it’s clear Reclamation has to take emergency actions to protect its own infrastructure. But, he said the plan leaves a lot of uncertainty and unanswered questions.
“We’re not going to be able to release a whole bunch of water from Flaming Gorge Reservoir (next year) because that water will have been released this year, and it’s not going to refill if we get another dry year,” he said. “Releases of water from Upper Basin storage units, that’s like a one-time thing, unless we happen to get some wet years in the future.”
View below Flaming Gorge Dam from the Green River, eastern Utah. Photo credit: USGS
Flaming Gorge is currently about 82% full. Reclamation estimates that its plan will bring the reservoir down to about 59% of its full capacity over the next year. Other Upper Basin reservoirs are not part of the plan at the moment, due to poor forecasted inflows and low water levels. Blue Mesa Reservoir in Western Colorado is currently 47% full and Navajo Lake on the Colorado-New Mexico state line is 63% full. Winter said reducing flows out of Glen Canyon Dam could also lead to legal issues. The Upper Basin states of Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, and New Mexico have not reached a deal with the Lower Basin states of Arizona, California, and Nevada on how to allocate water—and take cuts to usage in the midst of a changing climate—over the next 20 years. On top of that, reducing flows this year would mark a fulcrum point: the first year that the amount of water at Lees Ferry, just below Glen Canyon Dam, falls below the averages set by the Colorado River Compact of 1922.
Click the link to read the article on the KJZZ website (Alex Hager). Here’s an excerpt:
April 21, 2026
The nation’s second-largest reservoir will get a boost to keep water levels from dropping too low, but the fix won’t last long…The Bureau of Reclamation will take water from Flaming Gorge Reservoir in Utah and Wyoming and send it downstream to Lake Powell. The agency, which manages major dams and reservoirs across the Western U.S., will also ratchet back the amount of water released from Lake Powell. The efforts are mainly focused at keeping Glen Canyon Dam running smoothly. If water levels drop much further, Lake Powell’s surface will fall below the intakes that pull water into hydropower generators within the dam…Water levels had been forecast to drop below the hydropower intakes level as soon as this summer…
Illustration from the report, “Antique Plumbing & Leadership Postponed” from the Utah Rivers Council, Glen Canyon Institute and the Great Basin Water Network. Courtesy of Utah Rivers Council
Reclamation’s plan will likely stave off catastrophe at Glen Canyon Dam, but it will do little to solve the problem that imperiled it in the first place. Climate change has left the river with less supply, and humans have not been able to adequately rein in demand.
“This action that’s being taken is a band-aid solution for a gaping wound,” said Eric Balken, executive director of the nonprofit Glen Canyon Institute. “It’s a short-term measure that does not get at the root of the problem, which is over consumption of water.”
The Grand Canyon survey party at Lees Ferry. Left to right: Leigh Lint, boatman; H.E. Blake, boatman; Frank Word, cook; C.H. Birdseye, expedition leader; R.C. Moore, geologist; R.W. Burchard, topographer; E.C. LaRue, hydraulic engineer; Lewis Freeman, boatman, and Emery Kolb, head boatman. Boatman Leigh Lint, “a beefy athlete who could tear the rowlocks off a boat…absolutely fearless,” later went to college and became an engineer for the USGS. The Grand Canyon survey party at Lees Ferry in 1923. (Public domain.)
It’s been a record dry winter across the West — and it’s making an already bad situation on the Colorado River even worse. If water levels get any lower, Lake Powell and the dam that holds it back could be in dire straits. So now, the federal government is stepping in to prop up water levels. But, as KJZZ’s Alex Hager reports, it could be a Band-Aid solution to a much bigger problem. Hager joined The Show to explain.
LAUREN GILGER: Good to have you. So, what’s the situation on Lake Powell right now after this really dry winter? Kind of a worst-case scenario almost.
ALEX HAGER: Well, right now water levels there are forecast to drop to dangerously low levels as soon as this summer. And when I say dangerous, that means we would start to see some of the infrastructure in Glen Canyon Dam, which is up in Page, Arizona, start to fail. So water levels are on track right now to drop below the intakes for the hydropower turbines that sit inside the dam. That means it would become difficult or impossible to spin them and make electricity for 5 million people across seven states. If water drops a little bit further than that, it might not be able to pass through the dam at all. We are already looking at — you know, if it falls below that hydropower intake, it could only travel through this little-used set of backup pipes. We don’t know that it could carry enough water through. You start to have all of these problems. So we are seeing some actions to prevent that from happening now.
LAUREN GILGER: OK. So tell us about those actions. This is the federal government sort of taking control of at least this aspect of it. What are they going to do?
ALEX HAGER: That’s right. The federal government is stepping in. It is kicking into action something of an emergency backup plan. It’s been done before, but it is definitely a backup plan. And they’re going to shuffle some water around. There is another big reservoir up in Utah and Wyoming called Flaming Gorge, and they’re going to release extra water from Flaming Gorge, send it down the Colorado River to help fill up Lake Powell. At the same time, they’re going to start tightening the tap on Lake Powell, meaning that less water comes out of it. That water will — less of it will flow into the Grand Canyon downstream to Lake Mead and downstream to us.
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
The back of Glen Canyon Dam circa 1964, not long after the reservoir had begun filling up. Here the water level is above dead pool, meaning water can be released via the river outlets, but it is below minimum power pool, so water cannot yet enter the penstocks to generate electricity. Bureau of Reclamation photo. Annotations: Jonathan P. Thompson
A bad year in the Colorado River Basin – barring a truly miraculous spring, probably the worst in recorded history. It is bad enough so the Bureau may have to stop creating power from the Glen Canyon powerplant by this coming fall. At that point, the only way to get water downriver from Glen Canyon Dam will be dribbling it through four outlet tubes that the Bureau is now wishing it had built differently (better) 65 years ago. And praying for enough precip to push the level back above the danger point for the turbines.
Meanwhile the negotiations between the seven basin states about the future distribution of the water remained at an impasse. One might think that a really bad year might generate some new thinking, but the two Basins are still debating Compact numbers like 7.5 million acre-feet for the Lower Basin with a river that might produce less than 5 maf this year, and maybe not much more than that more frequently in the future.
It should be obvious by now that any further negotiation between the states needs to have an independent facilitator guiding the discussion, pushing both factions to disassemble their own non-negotiables. A hard-ass facilitator speaking on behalf of river reality. [ed. emphasis mine]
It seems likely that we will go into the 2027 water year this fall with some new ‘interim plan’ for operating the river system for the water year that begins in October – probably some mix-and-match from the Bureau’s five alternatives proposed last year and ‘EISed’ while the seven states fiddled. The real purpose of the new interim plan will be to keep the infrastructure of the river system viable – dancing with the dead pool. This will probably impose serious delivery shortages on those below the Powell and Mead Reservoirs (meaning the Lower Basin), and also drop the Upper Basin’s rolling 10-year total closer to the 75 million acre-feet (maf) that will cause the ‘compact call’ threat to rear its ugly head.
Year-to-year might be the most honest approach now, anyway, getting a habit of feeling our way forward carefully, with our eyes wide open – woke, one might say. The managerial ‘need for certainty’ in projections may not be part of the future we’ve imposed on ourselves.
But that’s a good place to let the present sit and settle, and go back to the unfolding saga of the ‘Era of Conquest’ in this update of Fred Dellenbaugh’s Romance of the Colorado River. You may remember that in the last post here, I related that the Bureau of Reclamation, feeling much loved for the Boulder Canyon Project that watered, fed and powered a massive regional development in Southern California, came out of World War II ready to do the same for the Compact’s Upper Basin, in response to a mandate in the Boulder Canyon Project Act that a plan be developed for the development of the rest of the river.
There was, however, already quite a lot of development going on in the Upper Basin – at least in the state of Colorado, beginning in the 1930s, simultaneous with the Boulder Canyon Project.
Udall/Overpeck 4-panel Figure Colorado River temperature/precipitation/natural flows with trend. Lake Mead and Lake Powell storage. Updated through Water Year 2025. Note the tiny points on the annual data so that you can flyspeck the individual years. Credit: Brad Udall
To establish context – the whole Colorado River Basin was experiencing its first serious modern-times drought, even as the Great Depression was settling over the whole nation. After the ‘pluvial’ of water abundance in the first three decades of the 20th century, which convinced the water mavens that the river would deliver a dependable-enough flow of nearly 18 maf, the basin experienced its first 5 maf flow in 1933; by the end of the 1930s, there was reason to doubt that the river would ever again average 18 maf.
But Colorado had a special problem to resolve about Colorado River water distribution: the transdivide situation. I will not bore you again with my opinion of the imperial arrogance in randomly laying down straight line state boundaries in a region of great geographic and geological diversity. But what this created in the irrelevant rectangle called Colorado was like a blanket laid over a fence – the fence being the Continental Divide. West of the Divide, precipitation that fell (mostly snow in the winter) all ran off toward the Pacific Ocean in the Colorado River tributaries. East of the Divide, it all ran off toward the Atlantic in the Platte, Arkansas and Rio Grande Rivers. Because the weather mostly rode in on the prevailing westerlies, considerably more precipitation fell on the West Slope than fell on the East Slope. But the vagaries of cultural and economic development put most of the population and economic growth on the East Slope – ‘80 percent-20 percent’ is the rough ratio frequently used to describe the imbalance between water and population in the blanket dropped over the fence.
The distribution of water on both sides of the ‘blanket’ was governed by the appropriation doctrine as stated in the Colorado Constitution: all the water in the state belongs to the people of the state, subject to appropriation for individual use, and the right to divert ‘shall never be denied’ – with seniority among users determining the right to use the water in times of shortage. And by the turn of the century, challenges in water court had established the right to divert water from one basin to another.
As the drought of the 1930s settled in, farmers on the East Slope began to experience serious pressures on the water supply. And consistent with the optimism and technological advances of the early 20th century, this was not regarded as a fact of life to be acknowledged and adapted to, but as a problem to be addressed – in this situation, by moving water from the West Slope. A major task – but Franklin Roosevelt’s ‘New Deal’ efforts to alleviate the Great Depression offered the possibility of some help, through new agencies like the Reconstruction Finance Corporation and the Public Works Administration.
So when the Colorado General Assembly gathered early in 1933, two water project bills were in the hopper: one to divert an unspecified quantity from the Upper Colorado River in the Grand Lake area to the South Platte River basin, and one to divert an unspecified quantity from the Gunnison River to the Arkansas River basin.
Inhabitants of the West Slope, however, knew nothing about this until they read about it in the newspapers. And they were even more surprised that summer when construction actually began on two transdivide projects: the Denver Water Board began constructing a system of small canals high in the Fraser River headwaters (Upper Colorado tributary) to bring water to the Moffat railroad tunnel pilot bore, which the Water Board had leased from the railroad – an unused but already dug ‘pipe’ to the northern Denver area. And the sugar-beet industry led by Great Western Sugar was doing the same collection system in the headwaters of the Roaring Fork River above Aspen for diversion into a small tunnel to the Arkansas River basin. Both of those enterprises were self-funded.
All of this precipitated a regional West Slope meeting in Grand Junction of ‘water people’ – county commissioners and attorneys who were also all ranchers or farmers – at which a ‘Western Colorado Protective Association’ (WCPA) was formed, and a letter was drafted to the state engineer expressing concern that the proposed and in-process projects threatened the future development of the West Slope, and requesting inclusion in all future discussion of them.
The situation as the West Slope people saw it was not a ‘water grab.’ The leadership in the WCPA knew that the East Slope irrigators and city-builders were exercising a constitutional right in appropriating ‘the people’s water’ on the West Slope. They also knew that most of the Colorado River water left the state’s West Slope in an unmanageable snowmelt flood anyway, and it might as well go through a tunnel to the Front Range as through Grand Junction and on to – well, soon, on to enviable storage behind the great dam being built far downstream rather than its historical destiny of flowing on into the salty sea unused.
Storage! That was the key to the West Slope’s chief water problem, which was water available throughout the growing season for finishing as well as starting crops. West Slope engineers had been drafting up a number of reservoir-and-irrigation projects to present to the Bureau of Reclamation, but dams are expensive, and all of the proposed reservoirs served mountain-valley populations too small to pass the Bureau’s cost-benefit analyses.
So the concept of ‘compensatory storage’ for water lost through transdivide diversions became the WCPA’s central focus. And despite their small population, the WCPA had two good cards to play. One was the fact that New Deal federal funding distributed to the states had to be for projects approved by the entire state; the transdivide diversions that needed federal assistance needed for the basin of origin to be as happy as the basin of destination.
A image shows a guest column by Rep. Edward Taylor that appeared from the Steamboat Pilot in 1921. Graphic credit: Northern Water
The other card was a congressional representative, Edward Taylor, whom they had returned to Congress for 12 terms by 1933, and who had over that quarter-century ascended to chairmanship of the subcommittee that controlled the Interior Department budget in the powerful House Appropriation Committee. Congressman Taylor launched the WCPA’s ‘defensive offensive’ by saying that any project seeking federal assistance for a transdivide diversion would have to provide, as part of their project, an acre-foot of compensatory storage for the West Slope for every acre-foot to be diverted.
That was a large and very expensive demand. Taylor exempted Denver and its Moffat project from the mandate – because, he said, we all want to see ‘our capital city’ grow unrestricted. More likely, he knew that Denver could fund its own project and would at best just ignore him; he was not their congressman, and the Denver Water Board at that point was coming under the domination by their attorney, Glenn Saunders, a city-builder who envisioned a water supply for a ‘thousand-year city,’ most of which he thought would have to come from the West Slope. He just wanted the hicks to stay out of his way. (Not an exaggeration at all.)
Taylor could, however, impose his acre-foot-for-every-acre-foot demand on those seeking federal Public Works Administration funds or Bureau of Reclamation assistance. And that set up what is really an interesting story of people working out difficult problems they’ve imposed on themselves in draping a blanket over a fence and calling it a state, then adopting a wide-open appropriations doctrine for the distribution of a limited resource statewide. It’s a story with many moving parts that we don’t really have time for here in depth; I will note, however, that the whole story is told in my Water Wranglers book, the story of the development of Colorado’s share of the Colorado River. (Out of print, but copies supposedly in all Colorado libraries.)
The principal players in the story were the Western Colorado Protective Association (WCPA), led by Frank Delaney, a lawyer-rancher, and D.W. Aupperle, a Grand Junction lawyer and fruit grower; the South Platte Water Users Association (SPWUA), led by Charles Hansen, a newspaper editor in farm country and a couple lawyer-farmers; and of course the Bureau which wanted to do a big transdivide diversion to the South Platte River. And what turned out to be the ‘wild card,’ Congressman Taylor.
A seemingly endless series of meetings began between the WCPA and the SPWUA with the Bureau in attendance. There was fundamental agreement that, first, the East Slope had legal right to appropriate West Slope water, and second, that the East Slope owed the West Slope some compensation for diverting part of the West Slope’s base for future development. The challenge was arriving at the amount of compensation. The SPWUA wanted to divert more than 300,000 acre-feet from the Colorado River, for what became the Colorado-Big Thompson Project, but they did not see how (even if they could get some New Deal PWA financing) they could afford to also create that much West Slope storage. But the WCPA felt bound to support their congressman – without whom they really had no card to keep them in the game. Frustration and ire grew on both sides – compounded by having to travel back and forth either on the slow trains or drive on roads that were really ‘country’ (a major West Slope chronic complaint).
Finally, in the spring of 1936, Frank Delaney of the WCPA suggested a compromise. If the Bureau and SPWUA wanted to rush into construction, it would have to be Taylor’s acre-foot-for-an-acre-foot mandate. But if they could delay their project until the Bureau did a thorough study of what the loss of 300,000 af of free-flowing water (most of it annually leaving the state unused anyway) would be to the West Slope, and how much storage would actually compensate the West Slope users for that loss of spring runoff, the West Slope would accept that number (and work on getting Cong. Taylor to accept it).
The ‘Delaney Resolution’ broke the stalemate. The Bureau men spent months poring over existing rights and land maps (long before computers and spreadsheets), and came up with a need for 152,000 acre-feet of compensatory storage: 52,000 af to make sure that the Shoshone power plant water right above Glenwood Springs could be met year round (which would also ensure enough late season water for the Grand Valley farms and orchards), and 100,000 af for future irrigation and domestic water development.
That cut Taylor’s demand in two – and the Bureau planned to add a powerplant to the dam that would significantly reduce what the SPWUA would have to pay back. During this period, Taylor – an old man – was actually too sick to participate, and the Delaney Resolution was adopted for the Colorado-Big Thompson Project. (Taylor would die in office in 1941 – still believing that an acre-foot-for-every-acre-foot was what should be adhered to.)
Graphic credit: RogerWendell.com
The compromise process was codified as ‘Senate Document 80,’ part of the Colorado-Big Thompson Project Act passed in 1937. Senate Doc. 80 became part of all subsequent transdivide project planning – except where Denver was concerned; it wasn’t until the veto of Denver Water’s Two Forks Project half a century later that Denver Water finally conceded to take West Slope needs into account in its transdivide projects.
That process of working through a significant challenge to mutual benefit stands, in at least my mind, as one of the highlights of the Era of Conquest in the Colorado River region – a period not without occasional efforts measuring up to the often naive but high-minded vision driving the developers’ ‘romancing of the river’ – to bring deserts into bloom, to reshape unfriendly environments to accommodate individuals and their families willing to work at it. It is too easy to condemn that from this side where we reap the harvest of all the mistakes involved that they didn’t know about until they had made them.
Next post, we’ll look at what happened to that carefully forged intrastate resolution when serious Colorado River planning came to the Compact’s Upper Basin. Meanwhile – pray for monsoons, or just a good rainy spell.
Colorado transmountain diversions via the University of Colorado
Click the link to read the article on The Denver Post website (John Aguilar). Here’s an excerpt:
April 21, 2026
Colorado oil and gas regulators on Tuesday approved a controversial 24-well drilling operation that will sit just over a half-mile from hundreds of Aurora homes and a reservoir that serves as the city’s primary water supply. The 3-2 vote by the state’s Energy and Carbon Management Commission, in favor of the State Sunlight/Long well pad proposed by Crestone Peak Resources, came after about five hours of testimony and deliberation. The decision ends what had become one of the more contentious battles over energy extraction in Colorado. Board Chair Jeff Robbins acknowledged that the application from Crestone had evoked a strong reaction from homeowners living nearby. But in the end, the company complied with rigorous state oil and gas regulations enshrined in a law known as Senate Bill 181, which was passed by state lawmakers seven years ago.
“At the end of the day, State Sunlight/Long achieves the balance we were told to look for,” Robbins said.
[…]
The two commissioners who voted no were Trisha Oeth and John Messner. The approvals process for the Sunlight/Long well pad encompassed seven hearings before the commission, stretching over several months. Nearby homeowners rose up in opposition, claiming that the project would pose health hazards to those living nearby — in particular, to school-age children. They also worried about the drilling’s potential environmental impacts on the Aurora Reservoir, which is a water source for the 400,000 residents of Colorado’s third-largest city.
“I cannot believe that the state came down on the side of the industry yet again,” Randy Willard, the president of opposition group Save the Aurora Reservoir, said in an interview minutes after the vote came down Tuesday afternoon. “The group as a whole is severely disappointed.”
The group had pushed back on the proposed project using the 2019 oil and gas reform law as a guide, Willard said. The 2019 law prioritized public health, safety and the environment when regulators consider oil and gas development — a profound change from the industry-focused approach Colorado had taken for decades.
A high desert thunderstorm lights up the sky behind Glen Canyon Dam — Photo USBR
Click the link to read the article on the AZCentral website (Debra Utacia Krol). Here’s an excerpt:
April 17, 2026
Key Points
The Colorado River system’s water storage has dropped to 36% of its capacity due to a warm winter and ongoing drought.
Water levels in Lake Powell are projected to fall below the minimum needed for hydropower generation by this fall.
Federal officials are considering moving water from other reservoirs and reducing downstream releases to prevent a shutdown at Glen Canyon Dam.
Within charts listing projections of water levels, inflow and outflow, and anticipated releases for 15 reservoirs in the Colorado River Basin, one message was clear: The river is in dire straits and conditions likely won’t get better anytime soon. The warmest winter on record, coupled with an ongoing drought, has produced dismal conditions for the West’s water lifeline, conditions reflected by the Bureau of Reclamation in its April 24-month report. The system’s storage has plunged to about 36% of its capacity, the agency said in a statement. More alarming in the near term is the threat to hydropower production at Glen Canyon Dam. Water levels in Lake Powell would drop too low to operate the turbines by fall, according to the latest projections, unless the federal government steps in…The situation at Lake Powell raised red flags: The giant reservoir’s “minimum probable inflow,” a measure of winter runoff, is projected to total just 2.78 million acre-feet, or 29% of the historical average, one of the lowest on record, the agency said. By September, projections show the reservoir could decline to below 3,490 feet above sea level, the minimum needed to power the turbines at Glen Canyon Dam that supply electric service to about 5.8 million households and businesses in the region…
Reclamation said it would consider all tools that are available to avoid water levels below 3,500 feet, including a plan to move water from Flaming Gorge Reservoir in Utah and reduce downstream releases from Powell. Flaming Gorge would give up between 660,000 acre-feet up to 1 million acre-feet over the next year. Lake Powell will release about 1.48 million acre-feet less than planned. The move will lower water levels in Lake Mead and potentially reduce Hoover Dam’s hydropower generating capacity by as much as 40%, and would impact recreation throughout the Lower Basin…
The Arizona Department of Water Resources said in its March drought report that most of the state’s snowpack is gone, melted during Arizona’s warmest March on record. The Arizona Drought Monitoring Technical Committee also published its latest three-month drought map, which showed most of the state listed as enduring exceptional drought conditions, the driest level.