The Colorado River flows near Hite, Utah on July 4, 2022. The river’s water supply is shrinking, and states are caught in a standoff about how to cut back on demand. Alex Hager/KUNC
Click the link to read the article on the KUNC website (Scott Franz):
April 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.
Last month’s record breaking heat across the Mountain West led to the worst snowpack on record in Colorado and Utah, along with a significantly downgraded forecast for the upcoming supply of Colorado River water.
Cody Moser with the federal Colorado Basin River Forecast Center said in a monthly briefing Tuesday [April 7, 2026] that just 1.4 million acre feet of Colorado River water is expected to reach Lake Powell through July. That’s less than a quarter of what’s considered normal.
It’s also much lower than the 2.3 million acre feet Moser’s office projected a month ago, before the heat wave in the West melted away an already meager supply of snowpack.
“With record low snow pack, we have well below normal water supply forecasts,“ he said. “In many cases, our April through July (water) volume forecasts rank in the lowest five on record when compared to historical observations.”
The forecast for how much water will reach Flaming Gorge Reservoir also dropped more than 20% since the last monthly projection. Flows for the Yampa River are also projected to be near the record low.
Moser added it’s likely some rivers and streams in western Colorado have already reached their peak runoff for the year.
He said the water supply forecasts could improve if wet conditions arrive, or decline even further if the West remains dry.
The worsening river forecasts arrive as the seven states that use the waterway remain at an impasse this spring over how to share and conserve the water in the future.
If states can’t reach a deal, the Interior Department is expected to identify its preferred option for how to manage Lake Powell and Lake Mead after the current operating guidelines expire this fall.
Interior Secretary Doug Burgum told Arizona radio station KTAR News this week that the worsening spring runoff conditions are going to “require everybody to dig in and take bigger cuts than they want, and we haven’t reached that spot yet.”
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
Arches visitor numbers soared during the Mighty Five campaign, plummeted in 2020 during the first COVID wave, surged in the pandemic’s aftermath, then corrected and plateaued. The correction corresponds with the implementation of the timed-entry reservation system. Source: NPS.
Earlier this year, the Trump administration cancelled the timed-entry reservation system for Arches National Park. The move was inspired in part by complaints from some Moab and Grand County elected officials and business owners who claimed the system had hampered overall visitation to the area, thereby hurting businesses’ bottom lines and diminishing tax revenues.
A new analysis is throwing that reasoning into doubt. And it raises the question of whether visitation to Arches is fueling Moab’s tourism industry, or the community and its amenities are drawing folks to the national park, or something in between. But it also should spur a conversation on who or what a national park should be serving.
During the Cold War, when Moab was primarily a uranium mining and milling town, with a bit of sightseeing, jeep-riding, and river-floating tourism on the side, Arches National Park was relatively quiet, with an average annual visitation of about 250,000 between 1965 and 1986. Winters could be downright empty: During January 1979, the first year monthly counts were recorded, only 2,970 people — or less than 100 per day on average — entered the park.
Domestic uranium production peaked in 1980. In 1984, the massive Atlas uranium mill just down the road from the entrance to Arches National Park shut down, and the industry effectively perished, creating an economic vacuum into which outdoor recreation-oriented tourism could slide. The Groff brothers opened Rim Cyclery in 1983, began renting mountain bikes a year later, and hosted the first Canyonlands Fat Tire Festival and Moab Stage Race (for road bikes) in 1986. The latter included a race from Moab, into Arches National Park, and back, something that would not fly nowadays.
Arches annual visitation also exceeded the 400,000 mark for the first time that year and climbed swiftly thereafter. While it’s difficult to suss out the cause and effect here, it is pretty clear that Arches visitation did not drive Moab’s transformation into a mountain bike and outdoor recreation mecca. If anything, it was the other way around. Arches visitation plateaued in the early 2000s, but Moab and Grand County’s amenities and tourism related sectors — retail trade, real estate, and services — continued to add jobs and in-migration remained strong.
The non-national-park public lands around Moab see far more visitors than Arches National Park each year. Source: BLM.
Arches visitation and Moab’s might as an amenities economy continued to mirror each other. Utah’s Mighty Five marketing campaign helped drive Arches visits from less than 1 million in 2009 to 1.7 million in 2018. This led to packed parking lots, trail traffic jams, interminable waits at the entrance gates as lines of cars spilled out onto the highway for a mile or more, and dozens of instances in which rangers had to turn visitors away because the park simply couldn’t handle any more.
In 2021, a post-Covid surge drove visitation up to 1.8 million, prompting park officials to finally pull the trigger on timed entry, an idea that had been floating around for years. Requiring visitors to reserve their spot would spread the crowds out, at least, while also giving them more predictability. It sucks to drive for hours or even fly across the world to see Delicate Arch, only to get turned away at the gate. The program was launched as a pilot in April 2022, and made permanent the following year. Arches visitation tumbled soon thereafter, dropping to 1.46 million in 2022 and 1.48 million in 2023.
Last spring, Moab resident Matt Hancock presented an analysis to the Grand County commissioners purportedly showing that timed-entry led to the visitation decline, which resulted in a decrease in transient room tax collections. And that decline, he argued, was costing Moab about $45 million annually in direct visitor spending, which then rippled out into the community in the form of lost tax revenue and the services they fund.
Direct visitor spending in Grand County, Utah, dropped off after the COVID surge, but remained above pre-COVID levels through 2024, throwing doubt on claims that Arches’ timed-entry drove the post 2021 decline. Source: Kem C. Gardner Policy Institute County Tourism Dashboard.
Grand County Commissioner Brian Martinez then formulated an “Access and Capacity Enhancement Alternative” plan for managing Arches National Park. It favored expanding infrastructure and packing more crowds into the park, and slammed any sort of “demand restrictions” such as timed-entry, saying Grand County “considers its impact on visitation, the local economy, and the community to be unacceptable.”
Martinez presented the plan to a group of state and federal officials at a closed State of Utah and National Park Service Workshop in Salt Lake City aimed at exploring ways to give local officials more control over public lands. A few months later, reservation systems were nixed at Arches, Yosemite, Glacier, and Rocky Mountain National Parks.
Will this boost visitation and Moab’s economy? Possibly, but not likely, according to yet another look, this one by Moab resident Emily Campbell. She also finds a correlation between Arches visitor number declines and timed entry, but points out that the corresponding transient room tax decreases could be attributed to other factors, such as a shift in visitors’ lodging choices. They may be camping on public lands, for example, or staying in neighboring counties, where hotels and such tend to be less expensive.
Meanwhile, other sectors of the economy have thrived, with food services, retail, and construction taxable sales shooting up even as Arches visitation has lagged. Perhaps it’s a sign that Moab’s economy is diversifying slightly, if only from relying heavily on tourism to also depending on folks that actually live there, but earn their incomes from outside the county.
Rather than trying to build on this diversification, however, Grand County is continuing to throw resources at yet another study aimed at determining the economic impact of timed entry — regardless of the fact that the reservation system has been suspended, at least for now.
Of course, all of this skirts around the deeper and bigger issue: the purpose of national parks. Is it really to bolster gateway communities’ tourism industries and enrich local business owners? Or is it, as the National Park Service’s mission states, to preserve “unimpaired the natural and cultural resources and values of the National Park System for the enjoyment, education, and inspiration of this and future generations”?
That’s what parks officials should be thinking about, first and foremost. They should manage the park for the long-term benefit of the park and the resources there. Secondary to that is its effect on the visitors’ experience. Limiting the number of people traipsing around the park by whatever means will be better for the park (or at least not worse for it). And spreading out the crowds with a reservation system will not only make Arches more enjoyable to visit, but will also make it more predictable. That, in the long run, will be better for the park, for its visitors, and, yes, for the gateway communities, too.
Moab’s tourism industry might be wise to get outside the growth at all costs mindset as well. The place has been adding hotel rooms at an astounding rate, looking to capitalize on the Moab mystique. But there are limits to how much visitation can continue to increase without not only wrecking the surrounding public lands but also diminishing the experience and driving folks away. Who knows, the tourism industry could bust just as hard as uranium mining did 40 years ago.
March certainly went out like a lion, though maybe not in the way that the saying is normally understood. It was hot. Damned hot. I’ll give a more thorough rundown on the heatwave and a final snowpack analysis in a later dispatch (after the next storm system moves through in hopes that it might improve the situation). But for now here’s a few stats from the heat wave.
204; 279: Number of monthly high-temperature records that were broken or tied in Arizona and Colorado, respectively, during the last two weeks of March.
102° F: Temperature at the Phoenix airport on March 18, setting a new monthly record and beating the earliest first 100-degree day by eight days.
105° F: The temperature in Phoenix on March 19, 20, and 21, breaking the March record yet again.
78.8° F: Average temperature in Phoenix for the month of March, 6.5° higher than the previous record high average temperature for the month.
109° F: Recorded temperature in Yuma, Arizona, on March 20.
78° F: Temperature in Del Norte, Colorado, on March 20, a new monthly record.
92° F: Temperature in Trinidad, Colorado, on March 21, smashing the previous monthly record high of 85° set … two days earlier.
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
Click the link to read the article on the Tuscon.com website (Tony Davis). Here’s an excerpt:
April 8, 2026
U.S. Interior Secretary Doug Burgum, pressed Monday to spell out how he’ll handle the Colorado River’s water crisis, wouldn’t get specific but said repeatedly that “nobody will be happy” with how his department will split a rapidly dwindling supply of river water among the seven states, including Arizona, that want a piece of it. Speaking at a roundtable in the Tucson area populated by a host of public lands industry leaders and University of Arizona President Suresh Garimella, Burgum pledged to hand down a decision this month on the first of two crucial, divisive issues his office is confronting regarding the river. That decision will be how much water the Interior Department’s Bureau of Reclamation will release from its upstream reservoirs in the four Upper Colorado River Basin states to head off a potential calamity in which Glen Canyon Dam, forming the boundary between the Upper and Lower Basins, would no longer receive enough water to continue generating electricity that serves customers in seven Western states.
The white bathtub ring clinging to the sandstone walls of Glen Canyon is more than a marker of a receding lake; it is a physical manifestation of a century-old accounting error. PHOTO BY BOB HEMBREE (MARCH 2019)
The white bathtub ring clinging to the sandstone walls of Glen Canyon is more than a marker of a receding lake; it is a physical manifestation of a century-old accounting error. For decades, the conventional story of the Colorado River’s decline has been framed as a tragic stroke of bad luck. The narrative, popularized in modern classics like Cadillac Desert, suggests that the framers of the 1922 Colorado River Compact simply did their best with a limited record of “eighteen years of streamflow measurement” taken during an unusually wet “binge.”
However, emerging historical research and systems analysis tell a more complicated and troubling story. In their definitive study, Science Be Dammed, authors Eric Kuhn and John Fleck argue that the crisis we face in 2026 was not an accident of nature but a predictable consequence of “selective science.” The decision-makers of 1922 were not victims of ignorance; they were sophisticated professionals who chose to ignore inconvenient data in favor of a political vision that required the river to be larger than it actually was.
Eugene Clyde LaRue measuring the flow in Nankoweap Creek, 1923. Photo credit: USGS
The Inconvenient Hydrologist
As the seven basin states gathered at Bishop’s Lodge in Santa Fe to carve up the river, they were joined by Eugene Clyde (E.C.) LaRue, a hydrologist for the U.S. Geological Survey. [Eric Kuhn responding to my X post, “Actually LaRue was never allowed to attend a Commission meeting. He asked, but Hoover said no.] LaRue presented the commissioners with a conclusion that threatened the very foundation of their negotiations. His data, which included early gauge records and historical flood markers, suggested that the river’s long-term average was approximately 15 million acre-feet (maf)
LaRue explicitly warned the commission that the period between 1905 and 1922 was a hydrological anomaly. Had the negotiators included the drier records from the late 1890s, the estimated annual flow would have dropped significantly. As Kuhn and Fleck note, the decision-makers had at their disposal a relatively thorough, almost modern picture of the river’s hydrology. They chose to ignore it because accepting LaRue’s science might have left them with a flow too low to reach the compromises necessary to develop the West.
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
Paper Water and the System Trap
By sidelining LaRue and enshrining a “paper water” figure of 16.4 million acre-feet into the Law of the River, the commissioners fell into a classic “system trap.” They created a legal stock of water rights that far exceeded the river’s physical flow. This inflated number was essential to the “reinforcing loop” of 20th-century growth. It provided the legal certainty needed to secure federal funding for massive infrastructure projects like the Hoover Dam and the Glen Canyon Dam.
This intentional overestimation created a massive “information delay.” For eighty years, the system appeared stable only because the Upper Basin states were slow to develop their shares, allowing their “unused” water to flow downstream. This masked the fundamental deficit, leading to a state of “overshoot” in which the regional economy came to depend on water that did not exist. Professor Rhett Larson describes the resulting legal framework as a system of “calling shotgun” that was excellent for settling a desert but is catastrophic for managing one in a time of scarcity.
The End of the Delay
Today, the “delay” has finally ended, and the “inconvenient science” of 1922 has become the undeniable reality of 2026. The river’s source is being further depleted by “aridification,” a process climate scientist Brad Udall describes as a “sponge above our head” that evaporates moisture before it can reach the streamflow. We are now witnessing the collision of a 100-year-old legal fiction with a 21st-century climate reality.
The current impasse between the Upper and Lower Basins is a symptom of “policy resistance,” where every actor is incentivized to protect their “paper” share even as the “wet” water disappears. As Professor Andrea Gerlak observes, if a system has 25 years to produce an agreement and fails, there is likely something fundamentally wrong with the system itself. Solving the crisis at Lake Powell will require more than engineering; it will require a paradigm shift that finally aligns our laws with the river’s actual physical limits.
The All American Canal, the largest diversion on the Colorado River, passes through Winterhaven, CA on its way to the Imperial Valley. The Colorado River is seen flowing next to it.
April 2, 2026
In the southeast corner of California, 300-foot-tall sand dunes rise from a sunbaked landscape dotted with ocotillo and creosote bushes. Summer temperatures here regularly exceed 110 degrees, and annual rainfall is comparable to that of the Sahara Desert. Despite its unforgiving terrain, more than 180,000 residents live in Imperial County, one of the country’s most productive agricultural regions and more recently a magnet for data center development and lithium extraction proposals. This has all been made possible by turn-of-the-20th century canals that carve up the region, supplying it with more than a million gallons of Colorado River water every minute.
“We’ve often called it the lifeblood of Imperial Valley,” said Robert Schettler, a spokesperson for Imperial Irrigation District, the area’s public utility, which manages the region’s over 3,000 miles of drains and canals. “If something were to happen to that river, we would all have to pack up and leave.”
Something is happening to the Colorado River. Over the past century, its average water supply has fallen by nearly a third due to prolonged drought and climate change. Experts predict that decline will continue, threatening cities, tribes and farms that depend on the river’s flow, from Wyoming, Utah, Colorado and New Mexico to Arizona, Nevada and Northern Mexico. Most of the Colorado River’s water starts as snowpack in the Rocky Mountains, but after the American West experienced the warmest winter ever recorded, snow levels are now at historic lows, prompting experts to warn that 2026 may be one of the river’s driest years yet.
That could spell disaster for Imperial County, whose harsh desert landscape of windblown sand and rugged burnt-orange mountains was transformed more than a century ago into productive, gridded farmland dotted with small cities such as Brawley, El Centro and Calexico…Imperial Valley’s agricultural industry consumes by far the largest share of water in the region, about 97% of the 3.1 million acre-feet managed by the Imperial Irrigation District every year…Those ambitious and largely successful conservation efforts have come at a cost. Much of the water used by farmers historically flowed into the nearby Salton Sea, but as farmers have reduced their water use, less runoff has reached the man-made lake, accelerating an existing environmental crisis Over the last three decades, the Salton Sea has shrunk by more than 60 square miles, exposing a dry lakebed laden with pesticides, particulate matter and heavy metals. Those contaminants are carried as dust through the air into nearby communities, contributing to a childhood asthma rate triple that of the national average. Now, farmers such as Brian Strahm, whose family has been growing crops in the area for four generations, are concerned they may have to decrease their water use further. That may prove difficult since farmers have already put in place many efficiency measures, Strahm said…Farmers say cuts could seriously harm the area’s already struggling economy. In addition to being the county with the highest percentage of Latinos in California, Imperial has among the highest unemployment rates of any county in the country, at nearly 19%. For those who do find work, the agricultural industry offers a lifeline, accounting for one out of every six jobs in the region.
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
Rubble and a cone-shaped butte at Pierre’s Site, a Chacoan great house about ten miles north of Chaco Culture National Historical Park. The area around the site would be re-opened to new oil and gas leases under the Trump administration’s proposal to revoke a Biden-era “buffer zone” around the park. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
The News: The Trump administration is formally proposing to revoke the Biden-era ban on new oil and gas leases within the 10-mile buffer zone around Chaco Culture National Historical Park in northwestern New Mexico. The Bureau of Land Management is accepting public comments for just seven days, with the input period ending April 7.
The Context: When President Theodore Roosevelt wielded the brand new Antiquities Act in 1907 to create Chaco Canyon National Monument, he drew the boundaries around what is now known as “downtown Chaco,” a handful of structures including the 800-room Pueblo Bonito, constructed between the 9th and 12th centuries by ancestors of today’s Pueblo people.
That was merely the center of the Chacoan world, however, which extended over 100 miles outward into the Four Corners region. No one knows if this was a political empire, a religious or cultural society, or a school of architecture, but it is clear that the dozens of Chacoan outliers or “great houses,” along with thousands of smaller sites, shrines, and architectural features with unknown function, did not exist in isolation. They were part of a cultural tapestry woven into the natural landscape. The national monument, in other words, was vastly incomplete, which is especially concerning given that it lies in would become one of the nation’s most heavily drilled oil and gas fields.
Wall at Twin Angels Great House, a Chacoan outlier along the Great North Road with an oil and gas well pad and tanks visible in the background. This site is well outside the 10-mile Chaco buffer zone. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
That’s not to say that Chacoan sites are devoid of protections. The park itself is off-limits to all oil and gas development. Pierre’s Site and several other outliers are part of the Chaco Culture Archaeological Protection Sites Program, and all sites on federal land are shielded by the Archaeological Resources Protection Act and Section 106 of the National Historic Preservation Act, which requires oil companies to conduct a cultural inventory of all land in the path of development. If the surveyors happen upon a “significant” site, the well pad or road or pipeline must be relocated, if possible, at least 50 to 100 feet away, a process known as “identify and avoid.” Tribes are supposed to be consulted in these cases, as well, though their concerns aren’t always considered.
But “identify and avoid” misses a great deal.
“Even though agencies try to mitigate the impact, it isn’t enough because you’ve literally destroyed the context in which those things exist,” Theresa Pasqual told me several years ago when I was writing about Indigenous resistance to drilling around Chaco. She is the former director of Acoma Pueblo’s Historic Preservation Office, and a descendant of the Pueblo people who occupied the Four Corners region for thousands of years. “Most of our pueblos are still transmitting their migration history through oral means. So when you have development that begins to impact many of these sites — that range in size from the grandeur of Chaco Canyon or Mesa Verde to very small unknown sites that still remain un-surveyed and unknown to the public — they are literally destroying the pages of the history book of the Pueblo people.”
Pierre’s Site, a Chacoan great house about nine miles north of the park’s boundary, illustrates this concept. The site is made up of a collection of thick-walled stone structures built among and in harmony with distinctive shale and sandstone buttes and bluffs. That “page,” or the structures and their immediate surroundings, has been kept intact by the aforementioned protections. But a cluster of well pads, along with pumpjacks, tanks, and associated infrastructure sit less than a half-mile away, and they are visible — and their whir-pop-whir sounds audible — from the site. They not only affect the way one experiences Pierre’s, but also have surely erased some of the important context.
Rubble at Pierre’s Site. Jonathan P. Thompson photo
Pierre’s lies along the Great North Road—the most prominent and visible of several such “roads” in the region—an architectural feature that stretches directly north of Chaco Canyon for 30 miles or more. It may have been a symbolic path through time, connecting old worlds with new, or a reminder of the power Chaco-central wielded over its outliers, or a giant arrow pointing people to a holy place. Chaco scholar Paul Reed calls it “a landscape monument on a large scale.” Yet little effort has been made to protect it. Oil field roads and pipelines cross it in dozens of places, and workers have bulldozed well pads right on top of it, erasing the subtle signs that it was ever there. If something so significant can get plowed under, how many more subtle features—shrines, corn fields, plant-gathering sites, ceremonial areas, flint-knapping spots—have been destroyed indelibly?
It was with the greater context in mind that in 2023, after years of consideration, public meetings, and analysis, President Joe Biden signed Public Lands Order 7923, which withdrew about 336,000 acres of public land from oil and gas leasing for 20 years. Tribal nations with ties to the cultural landscape, environmental advocates, and archaeologists had sought the withdrawal to provide a buffer zone around the national historical park and to add a layer of protection to the associated sites within 10 miles of the park’s boundaries.
Map of the 10-mile buffer zone. Source: All Pueblo Council of Governors.
The withdrawal was incomplete, in that it still covered only a tiny slice of the greater Chaco landscape. Several significant outliers, along with about 20 miles of the Great North Road, remained unprotected. Chaco is also in the middle of what’s known as the Checkerboard, a hodgepodge of land ownership and jurisdictions, which complicates the withdrawal, since it only applies to BLM land. The Checkerboard lies within the Navajo Nation’s borders, but it is not reservation land, and it includes Bureau of Land Management land, state lands, private lands, and Indian allotments, which exist in a sort of limbo between private, tribal, and federal land.
The Navajo Nation initially supported the withdrawal, but when tribal leadership changed, so did its stance. In response to pressure from allotment owners within the buffer zone, who worried that their royalties from drilling would be threatened, the Buu Nygren administration turned against the buffer. While leasing is still allowed on those allotments within the withdrawal area, an oil and gas company is less likely to drill there because they can’t “pool” the allotment resources with those of neighboring federal parcels.
Pumpjack and Haystack Mountain as seen from the “Acropolis” at Pierre’s Site, with “Downtown Chaco” in between (but out of view since it’s in a canyon). This view looks directly south down the Great North Road, which is aligned with the meridian stretching from Haystack Mountain to Mount Wilson in the San Juan Mountains in Colorado. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Project 2025, the right wing’s playbook for the Trump administration, directly called for the Chaco buffer zone’s elimination, and Interior Secretary Doug Burgum has been toying with the idea for the last year. Finally, on the last day of March, the administration opened a one-week public comment period, on the proposal to either revoke the buffer zone altogether, or to reduce it to a five-mile radius around the park, which would leave out Pierre’s and other significant sites.
The All Pueblo Council of Governors, Indigenous and environmental advocates, archaeology groups, and New Mexico’s congressional delegation all pushed back on the Trump administration’s move and called for the current buffer zone to be retained.
The Trump administration announced it will move the U.S. Forest Service headquarters from Washington, D.C., to Salt Lake City as part of a “sweeping restructuring of the agency to move leadership closer to the forests and communities it serves.” The shake-up includes:
Moving about 260 employees from Washington HQ to Salt Lake City, and shuffling around another 2,600 staffers;
Eliminating its region-based organizing structure and shifting it to one centered around 15 state-level offices. This will include shuttering regional offices, some of which will be retained for other purposes;
Closing 57 research and development stations, while retaining 20, eight of which are in Western states;
As for firefighting, a Forest Service press release noted:
Administration officials say the overhaul is aimed at making the agency, which is a branch of the U.S. Agriculture Department, more nimble and efficient. Yet it has not provided an analysis of how such a vast restructuring would accomplish those goals, or how much money it would save. It comes about a year after the so-called “Department of Government Efficiency,” or DOGE, fired about 3,400 Forest Service employees, or more than 10% of the agency’s total workforce.
It’s all part of a larger departmental overhaul designed to “bring the USDA closer to its customers,” according to a USDA memorandum from last year. Customers? Do they mean the extractive industries? The American people? Or what? Either way, it seems like strange terminology for a government agency to be using.
In reality, as Christine Peterson reports in High Country News, the overhaul is doing little except sowing confusion and concern among agency staffers and observers.
These maps show where the new state offices will be after the reorganization is complete. Source: USDA.
Which research facilities will survive the overhaul (below). Source: USDA.
As I’ve written here before, I don’t see moving public land agencies out of Washington to be an unmitigated disaster in and of itself. And contrary to some takes, it won’t automatically lead to wholesale clearcutting of the West’s forests. Forest Service and BLM higher-ups don’t need to be close to Capitol Hill or the White House to do their jobs, especially in the Zoom age. And it wouldn’t hurt to get the Forest Service Chief or the BLM Director out on the landscapes they oversee a bit more often, where perhaps they can see the consequences of projects or policies they may sign off on. Utah may be a questionable location, given the state’s leaders hostility toward public land management, but Salt Lake City is a fairly progressive place, and the likes of Sen. Mike Lee will have just as much access to agency leaders in D.C. as they would in SLC.
That said, if such a move is not done correctly, it can be disastrous. Take Trump’s first-term relocation of the Bureau of Land Management’s headquarters to Grand Junction, Colorado, in 2019. That led to a de facto agency housecleaning; many senior staffers chose to resign or move to other agencies rather than uproot their lives and families and move across the country, and only a handful of workers ended up in the Colorado office, which shared a building with oil and gas companies. A vast storehouse of institutional knowledge and expertise was lost, and virtually nothing was accomplished.
We’re likely to see the same sort of dynamic playing out with this move, even though SLC is larger, more cosmopolitan, and has a bigger airport than GJC. Plus, the USFS overhaul is far more than a mere HQ move. Shuttering nearly 60 research and development facilities, many of which are tied to universities or colleges, will have a major impact, even if their functions and staff are moved elsewhere. Ditto with the regional-to-state office shuffle (the point of which is what, exactly?).
And, this is all happening as the administration makes a push to return the Forest Service to its timber plantation era, which ran from the 1950s through the ’80s. During that time, logging companies harvested 10 billion to 12 billion board-feet per year from federal forests, while for the last 25 years, the annual number has hovered below 3 billion board-feet. Now, Trump, via his Immediate Expansion of American Timber Production order, plans to crank up the annual cut to 4 billion board-feet by 2028. How? By declaring an “emergency” that allows the agency and logging companies to bypass environmental laws. Never mind that the infrastructure and demand don’t necessarily exist to carry out this plan.
Rollins issued a memo last year declaring that the threat of wildfires, insects and disease, invasive species, overgrown forests, the growing number of homes in the wildland-urban interface, and more than a century of rigorous fire suppression have contributed to what is now “a full-blown wildfire and forest health crisis.” And she expanded the “emergency situation” acreage from 67 million acres under Biden, to almost 113 million acres, or 59% of all Forest Service lands, opening it up to streamlined forest “management,” aka timber operations.
🥵 Aridification Watch 🐫
I’m calling it: The Dolores River in Dolores reached peak spring runoff of 1,090 cubic feet per second on March 26. If this holds (and, yes, there is a chance that April showers will bring big May flows), then it will be the earliest peak on record by far. This is more an indication of how intense and unusual the end-of-March heat wave was than of how scant the snowpack was. It was the fourth lowest peak flow on record, behind 2002, 1977, and 2018.
The good news: The April 1 storm gave the snowpack a big boost. The bad news: In most places the snow water equivalent remains below that of the same date in 2002, which had been the worst snow year on record. The same pattern is evident in other San Juan Mountain river basins, but the picture looks a little better at higher elevation SNOTEL stations. Source: USDA NRCS.
Silverton, Colorado’s weather watcher Fred Canfield reports on a welcome burst of moisture at the high country burg in early April, writing:
Parting Cheeseburger Query
Four years ago, I asked you kind readers (or at least the ones that were around back then), for your recommendations on the best independent bookstores and green chile cheeseburgers in the West so I could add them to the Land Desk Green Chile Atlas. I know, it’s kind of weird to combine the two, and I apologize to all vegan booksellers that this pairing may offend (but I will add that vegan burgers are included, too).
Now I figured I’d come back and not only remind you that the Atlas exists, but also ask for updates, new book or green chile-related finds. So fire away!
Coloradans often hear that the Colorado River crisis is happening somewhere else. Headlines focus on Lake Mead, Lake Powell, and the Lower Basin, while Colorado is portrayed as a responsible headwaters state doing its part. Yet that narrative misses a deeper truth. The Colorado River crisis is not only about drought or downstream shortages. It is also about how the river is managed. In that sense, Colorado shares responsibility with every basin state.
Colorado’s water system is built on ‘prior appropriation’. The rule is simple: “first in time, first in right.” The earliest water users receive priority when supplies run low. This framework helped farmers, cities, and industries expand across the West during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, creating stability in a region where water determines survival.
However, the system was designed for a different climate and a by-gone West. It also encouraged states and water users to claim more water than the river could supply, contributing to the overallocation of the Colorado River. Legal analyses of the Law of the River show that the basin was effectively overburdened by water claims decades before climate change began reducing flows.
Today, climate change is altering the river itself. Scientists estimate that warming temperatures have already reduced Colorado River flows by roughly 20 percent. Federal water managers warn that declines could continue as temperatures rise. In a river system that is already legally overcommitted, treating water rights as fixed privileges can deepen instability rather than prevent it.
Colorado sits at the center of this challenge. As the largest contributor of water in the Upper Basin, the state must balance many competing demands. Front Range cities continue to grow. Western Slope agriculture depends on reliable irrigation. Rivers and aquatic ecosystems are under stress. Yet much of Colorado’s water policy still assumes shortages are temporary and that legal priority alone will determine who receives water. That mindset often encourages defensive politics rather than shared problem-solving.
Conflicts between upstream and downstream states are often described as unavoidable. In reality, much of the tension stems from the priorities of management. Upper Basin states emphasize uncertainty about future river flows, while Lower Basin states focus on delivery obligations and infrastructure investments, according to recent reports on Colorado River governance. Each group is acting logically within the current system. The problem is that the system frequently rewards delay and legal conflict rather than cooperation, as researchers studying collaborative governance in the basin have found.
Colorado has an opportunity to change that pattern. One promising approach is collaborative adaptive management. This framework begins with a simple idea: uncertainty is normal in complex systems. Instead of assuming managers already know the right solution, adaptive management relies on monitoring conditions, learning from outcomes, and adjusting policies over time. With collaboration of states, tribes, farmers, cities, and environmental groups conflict can be reduced and management decisions can improve.
Some elements of this approach already exist in Colorado, including experimental reservoir operations and voluntary conservation programs. However, research on collaborative drought science planning in the Colorado River Basin shows that these efforts remain limited and politically fragile.
Equity must also be part of Colorado’s leadership. For decades, Tribal nations and many rural communities have carried the environmental costs of water development while urban growth captured much of the benefit, a pattern highlighted in research on environmental justice and Indigenous governance. Tribal nations, many of which hold some of the most senior water rights in the basin, remain underrepresented in major water decisions. Adaptive governance recognizes that whose knowledge it is that counts, matters. Incorporating Indigenous knowledge, local experience, and community-based monitoring can strengthen decisions and build trust in governance. Research shows that when affected communities help shape policies, those policies are more likely to be trusted, followed, and sustained over time.
Importantly, collaborative management does not mean abandoning Colorado water law or taking away private rights. Instead, it means updating water governance so users can share risk and adapt together as conditions change. The alternative – waiting for wetter years or relying on courts to resolve disputes – ignores both climate science and political reality. Climate projections from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change indicate that the American Southwest will likely remain hotter and drier for decades. Planning for a return to twentieth-century river flows is increasingly unrealistic.
Critics argue that collaboration takes too long when the crisis is already severe. Colorado has already tried temporary agreements, emergency negotiations, and federal pressure. Those approaches have not produced lasting solutions. Short-term deals may stabilize reservoirs for a season, but they do little to address the deeper management problems driving the crisis. Without stronger cooperation, the basin risks repeating the same cycle of shortage and conflict.
Colorado has long prided itself on practical problem-solving and environmental leadership. The state now has an opportunity to apply those values to its most important river. Policymakers should strengthen collaborative water governance, ensure meaningful Tribal participation, and support conservation policies that reward flexibility rather than litigation.
Coloradans also have a role to play. Public participation in basin planning, engagement with watershed organizations, and pressure on elected officials can help shift water policy toward long-term climate adaptation rather than short-term crisis response.
The Colorado River begins in our mountains. Leadership today means recognizing that rules built for a wetter past may no longer work in a hotter future – and choosing cooperation before the river forces the decision for us.
Anderson, Patrick J., Jeanne E. Godaire, Daniel K. Jones, William J. Andrews, Alicia A. Torregrosa, Meghan T. Bell, JoAnn M. Holloway, et al. 2025. “Collaborative Drought Science Planning in the Colorado River Basin.” U.S. Geological Survey Open-File Report 2025-1041. https://doi.org/10.3133/ofr20251041.
Birnbaum, Simon. 2016. “Environmental Co-governance, Legitimacy, and the Quest for Compliance: When and Why Is Stakeholder Participation Desirable?”. Journal of Environmental Policy & Planning, 18, no. 3, 306–323.https://doi.org/10.1080/1523908X.2015.1077440
Hite, Kristen, Pervaze A. Sheikh, and Charles V. Stern. 2025. “Management of the Colorado River: Water Allocations, Drought, and the Federal Role”. Congressional Research Service Report R45546.https://www.congress.gov/crs-product/R45546.
Holling, C. S. 1978. Adaptive Environmental Assessment and Management. New York: Wiley.
Kuhn, Eric. 2024. “The Risks and Potential Impacts of a Colorado River Compact Curtailment on Colorado River In-Basin and Transmountain Water Rights Within Colorado.” Colorado Environmental Law Journal, 35.https://scholar.law.colorado.edu/celj/vol35/iss2/4.
Sullivan, Abigail, Dave D. White, and Michael Hanemann. 2019. “Designing Collaborative Governance: Insights from the Drought Contingency Planning Process for the Lower Colorado River Basin.” Environmental Science & Policy, 91: 39-49. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.envsci.2018.10.011.
David is a Colorado Certified Water Professional and environmental scientist dedicated to protecting aquatic systems through rigorous data analysis, public service, and responsible resource management. He holds a bachelors degree in Biology from Western Colorado University and will graduate soon from the University of Denver with a Masters Degree in Environmental Policy and Management.
Storefront, Tierra Amarilla, New Mexico, with slogans remembering the 1967 Tierra Amarilla Courthouse Raid by Reies Lopez Tijerina to protest the federal governments theft of Mexican land grants. Now a Canadian company is proposing to explore for uranium near Canjilon. Ian M. Thompson photo.
The so-called uranium mining renaissance mostly remains in the hype phase. There’s plenty of talk of acquisitions and exploratory drilling and purportedly spectacular finds, but — with a few exceptions — there’s very little action. Even existing mines that have been in “standby” mode for years, supposedly just waiting for market conditions to improve, still aren’t shipping any ore to the mill.
But that doesn’t dim the buzz any. Not only is it intensifying, but it’s spreading out geographically. Most of the drilling and speculative claim-staking is happening in the Lisbon Valley in southeastern Utah and surrounding areas, along with a handful of mining proposals in the Grants uranium belt in New Mexico. Now Gamma Resources is going a little further afield by collecting claims on U.S. Forest Service land in the Chama River watershed in northern New Mexico.
The Canadian firm’s 4,520-acre Mesa Arc Project lies about five miles south of the village of Canjilon. While this was never a uranium mining hot spot, the USGS mineral data system does include a uranium prospect here by the name of Horney Toad or Lucky Dog, though it doesn’t appear to have been a producer.
So far, the company has filed a notice of intent with the Carson National Forest proposing to drill 10 to 12 exploratory holes and construct drill pads and about 800 feet of new access road. But the forest has yet to formally launch the review process. Gamma also says it has hired SWCA Environmental Consultants to conduct an archaeological and cultural resources survey of the area.
Locals aren’t all that excited about the prospect of a uranium mine in their backyard. Source NM’s Patrick Lohmann reports that Moises Morales, a Rio Arriba County commissioner, Canjilon resident, and long-time land grant activist, is mobilizing opposition to the project.
It would behoove Gamma Resources to look into the history of the area to see what a formidable force they are up against. The Chama Valley is famous for its fierce resistance to outsiders trying to usurp their land — be it real estate developers, the federal government, or, I suppose, a mining company.
***
One company, Disa, is looking to produce uranium not by digging up ore, but by using something called high-pressure slurry ablation (HPSA) to extract the mineral from historic mine waste rock piles. Only it appears their attempts to get the novel technology off the ground is facing some hurdles.
In March, Aura Grit LLC filed an application with the BLM to use Disa’s HPSA process on the October pile, an abandoned mine located south of Gateway, Colorado, on a mesa above John Brown Canyon. But shortly after the agency began reviewing the proposal, Disa backed out, at least temporarily, and decided to make the technology’s debut at the smaller Mary Ann uranium mine waste pile in Montrose County. The plan of operations is not yet available.
The Nuclear Regulatory Commission’s environmental review of the Disa’s proposal to remediate abandoned mine dumps with HPSA describes the technology as involving …“… mobile units that use high-pressure water streams to remove source material from the mine waste, resulting in coarse material and fines concentrates. Disa expects that the coarse material would meet NRC requirements for release and would be reintegrated into the mine site soils. The fines concentrates would be transported to licensed low-level radioactive waste or uranium recovery facilities for disposal or recycling.”
Because the process is separating uranium and thorium fines from ore, it is considered a form of milling, not mining. And that’s an important distinction, because when you mill uranium ore, you leave behind mill tailings, which must be disposed of according to NRC and Environmental Protection Agency standards. Instead, the “coarse material,” as the waste is described, would be reintegrated into the mine site — even though it may contain radioactive and other harmful materials.
In its plan of operations for the October pile, Aura Grit said the process would require trucking in about 5,000 gallons of water per day (or 108,000 gallons per month) from a commercial well near Gateway.
If you’re looking to find these locations on a map, check out the Land Desk’s Mining Monitor Map, which is updated frequently.
Also, for an interactive map of all kinds of uranium prospects, mines, and mills,there’s Land Desk’s Uranium Mining in the Four Corners Country map derived from USGS data.
The BLM is looking to sell a 19 acre parcel on Las Vegas’s southern fringe to the city of Henderson for affordable housing.
🌵 Public Lands 🌲
Over the last year or so, there have been some bad faith attempts — most orchestrated by Sen. Mike Lee, R-Utah — to take public lands out of the public hands and turn them over to developers. Amid all of the brouhaha over that, it can be easy to forget that a mechanism already exists for this sort of transfer, and it’s not always a terrible thing.
The Bureau of Land Management, for example, is looking to sell about 19 acres of land on the southern fringe of the Las Vegas metro area to the city of Henderson for affordable housing. The sale would occur under the Southern Nevada Public Land Management Act, which Congress passed in 1998 to allow the feds to dispose of isolated, hard-to-manage tracts within the urban area, and to acquire private inholdings. The idea was to give Las Vegas more room to grow, while also protecting more remote, environmentally sensitive lands by transferring them into the public’s hands.
The process makes a lot of sense in southern Nevada, generally speaking, because there are so many disparate chunks of BLM land scattered throughout the city’s streetscape. While they do provide a sort of open space, they also can exacerbate “leapfrog” sprawl and essentially end up being vast vacant lots sandwiched between housing developments. And every city, including greater Las Vegas, is gripped by an affordable housing shortage.
That said, I’m curious about the choice of this particular parcel, more from an urban planning perspective than a public-land-transfer one. This is not one of those tracts surrounded by suburbia, but lies on the suburban fringe. It’s not in an existing neighborhood or even all that close to one and is beyond the reach of the bus line. It’s across the street from Combat Zone Paintball and a huge RV sales center and just up the road from Dig This Vegas, a “heavy equipment playground.”
It seems like it will not only encourage more physical sprawl, but will also amplify the disconnection and lack of community that sprawl fosters. Kids would have to walk at least two miles, across a pedestrian-unfriendly landscape, to get to the nearest school. Workers will have a long walk to the bus, or traffic-heavy driving commutes. And the only local neighborhood will be the housing complex, itself.
My take is that this sale should go forward and Henderson should build a multi-family, affordable complex here. But in the future I would hope that they’d focus on parcels that are actually within the city’s existing footprint. Because the last thing southern Nevada needs is more sprawl.
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🗺️ Messing with Maps 🧭
Last week I did the NASA Worldview satellite snowpack comparison, this time it’s Copernicus. The big difference is that you can zoom out more with Worldview, and zoom in for higher resolution looks with Copernicus. So here I went and found imagery from the San Juan Mountains in late February of this year, which is when snowpack levels peaked in the Animas River watershed, and another one from late March, following the big fat melt out.
Ice Lake Basin (just below center) and the South Mineral Creek drainage west of Silverton (which is just off the right side of the image) on Feb. 27, 2026. This was the peak of this winter’s snowpack in the Animas River watershed, about five weeks ahead of — and less than 50% of — the normal peak.
In this view, from March 29, 2026, south facing slopes are nearly completely melted out, and even Ice Lake Basin has lost most of its snow.
📸 Parting Shot 🎞️
And for another mind-blowing look at just how little snow there is, Land Desk reader and snow-guy Andy Gleason sent in some shots from Animas Forks, at 11,185 feet in elevation. That is some thin snow for late March. Heck, it’s thin snow for late May.
There is a little bit of good news, though. First off, take a close look at the satellite images above and the photos below. Notice that the snow is pretty white, and there’s not much visible dust. Usually the spring melt reveals layer after layer of dust on the snow’s surface, that then decreases the albedo — or reflectivity — and hastens the snow melt. There appears to be less dust this year, so far, meaning maybe what’s left of the snow won’t melt quite as fast.
Oh, and also: Even though the snowpack is ultra-thin, at least it’s not gone at these high altitudes, providing a base for the snow that this week’s forecasted storm should bring. There may still be some powder skiing to be had this season after all! (Scroll down for a weather forecast).
Animas Forks, Colorado, March 30, 2026. Andy Gleason photo.
Animas Forks, Colorado, March 30, 2026. Andy Gleason photo.
🚣🏽 Predict the Peak! 🌊
Don’t forget to submit your entry for the Predict the Peak spring runoff streamflow contest! The deadline for prize eligibility is April 3, so hurry up. Also, if you already submitted an entry, but you realized that your prediction might be thrown askew by this week’s snowy forecast? You have until April 3 to resubmit. Just keep in mind that only your most recent entry for each gauge will count.
River managers need to conserve around 1.7 million acre-feet in Lake Powell to keep the reservoir from dropping below hydropower turbines this year, according to federal government projections. The Bureau of Reclamation, a federal agency that manages dams on the Colorado River, has estimated that reservoir levels could fall below required elevations for hydropower production before August as record-low snowpack turns into pitiful flows in streams and rivers.
“The situation is dire, the stakes have never been higher, and the reservoirs have never been drier,” Estevan Lopez, New Mexico’s negotiator on interstate Colorado River matters, said during a meeting of the Upper Colorado River Commission on Tuesday [March 24, 2026].
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
If water levels fall below required levels for hydropower production, dam managers will be forced to release water through bypass tubes, which are not designed for sustained, high-volume flows. With too much use, the bypasses could fail, turning the dam into a massive plug in the river and shutting off downstream flows. To keep Powell above those critical levels, federal officials can either fill it with water from upstream reservoirs, including some in Colorado, or they can reduce the water it drains from Powell and sends to the Lower Basin (California, Arizona and New Mexico). States are already expressing their views on how those operations should work. Upper Colorado River basin states, including Colorado, want the federal government to achieve the conservation requirement by reducing water releases to downstream states, at least in part. Upper Basin states say upstream reservoirs aren’t enough to save Powell without cuts to Lower Basin water deliveries. Draining the upstream reservoirs could also leave the system without backup supplies in the event of another dry year…The three primary reservoirs that could prop up Powell are Flaming Gorge in Wyoming, Navajo Reservoir in New Mexico, and Blue Mesa Reservoir near Gunnison, Colorado. Of the three, only Flaming Gorge is large enough to contribute the entire 1.7 million acre-feet on its own, and that would require draining the reservoir to halfway full. Blue Mesa and Navajo already stand at around halfway full, and the two reservoirs likely could not provide the water to save Lake Powell even if both were entirely drained.
Colorado River “Beginnings”. Photo: Brent Gardner-Smith/Aspen Journalism
American White Pelican and Double-crested Cormorant at Bill Williams Wildlife Refuge along the Colorado River, Arizona. Photo: Gary Moore/Audubon Photography Awards
Click the link to read the article on the Audubon website (Jennifer Pitt):
March 20, 2026
Audubon and partners cut through the conflict with a unique, basinwide perspective, championing the river’s health for the people and birds that rely on it.
The winter of 2025-2026 has not been kind to the Colorado River. Record-warm temperatures day after day across the mountains that feed the river have led to record-low snow levels. All indications are that spring snowmelt feeding the river will be scant.
That is a huge problem, because Colorado River reservoirs, which historically held vast water reserves, are already depleted, with Lake Powell at 25% and Lake Mead at 34% of capacity. This is bad news for people and birds relying on water from the Colorado River. The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation (Reclamation), the federal agency managing the dams, projects that Lake Powell’s water levels could fall low enough to threaten Glen Canyon Dam’s infrastructure, downstream water delivery, hydropower, and native wildlife in the Grand Canyon including the California Condor and the Western Yellow-billed Cuckoo, among others.
As this crisis plays out, Reclamation has the difficult job of re-tooling systemwide, long-term dam operations on the Colorado River (often referred to as the “Post-2026 Guidelines”). Existing rules, first set nearly two decades ago and tweaked repeatedly to keep up with the declining Colorado River (the result of a warmer and drier climate), expire at the end of this year. As anticipated under this timeline, Reclamation issued a Draft Environmental Impact Statement (Draft EIS) in late January which laid out potential alternatives for federal management and solicited comments from stakeholders. This Draft EIS embraced uncertainty as a central planning condition as they tested different approaches under a broad range of hydrologic conditions. For a long time, the expectation was that the seven U.S. states sharing the river (Arizona, California, Colorado, New Mexico, Nevada, Utah and Wyoming) would develop a consensus-based proposal for Reclamation, but that hasn’t happened and talk of litigation has increased.
Southwestern Willow flycatcher
Reclamation must now figure out next steps. The agency does have legal authorities, but those legal authorities were crafted long ago and do not necessarily spell out how to take meaningful action in this historic crisis. That threatens the water supply for more than 35 million people including the major cities of the American Southwest, Tribes, millions of acres of irrigated farms and ranches, as well as the Colorado River itself and every living thing that depends on its habitats, including hundreds of bird species like the Southwestern Willow Flycatcher, Yuma Ridgway’s Rail, and Summer Tanager.
This is a graph of snowpack above LakePowell using 104 snow measuring stations. It was 9 inches of water on March 7, now 6 inches. Other dry years shown.There is no historical analog to this — Brad Udall
Audubon submitted formal comments in response to the Draft EIS, joining conservation partners to weigh in on what comes next for Reclamation’s consideration (read our comment letter here). Dozens of comments were submitted by the Colorado River Basin states, water users, and other stakeholders making their case with Reclamation that their water uses need to be protected at the expense of others. In its comments Audubon emphasized the need to stabilize the Colorado River system from its headwaters to its delta—a unique, basinwide perspective that urges Reclamation to manage risks for people and nature rather than deferring hard decisions until emergency conditions force action. Our comment letter focused on constructive engagement noting the Draft EIS’s strengths in its analytical foundation while identifying and describing targeted refinements that would help ensure the Final EIS fully informs decision-makers about risks and real-world consequences. Specifically, Audubon calls for:
Clarity and predictability
Flexible, adaptive tools for conserving, storing, and managing water
Environmental stewardship embedded into operations
Meaningful and voluntary Tribal participation
Pathways for advancing in-basin mitigation and resilience-building opportunities
Pathways for advancingbinational cooperation with Mexico
Over the next few months, Reclamation still has an opportunity to persuade the Colorado River Basin states into consensus. Whether or not they are successful (and we hope they are), sometime this summer we expect Reclamation to issue a Final EIS that includes refinements to the Draft as well as an indication of their preferred alternative for Colorado River operations. In the meantime, it is urgent Reclamation also prepare for the water supply emergency that is unfolding in 2026.
For much of the last century, Reclamation was a leader in developing the southwestern United States by harnessing the Colorado River and delivering its water across the land. Today, Reclamation must lead in a new way, helping everyone and everything that depends on the Colorado River live with the river we have in a warmer, drier world.
The sun rises over Lake Powell in Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, in Page, Arizona. Lake Powell, a critical Colorado River reservoir, is only at a third of its capacity as drought conditions in the Southwest worsen. CREDIT: ECOFLIGHT
Click the link to read the article on the AZMirror website (Caitlin Sievers):
March 23, 2026
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 water usage cuts of their own, while the Lower Basin states insist that every state take their fair share.
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 mandatory cuts 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.
The amount of water that Colorado has access to can be unpredictable because it relies mostly on melted snowpack for its water, which varies from year to year. This year’s snowpack levels are historically low.
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.”
Sunlight glimmers on the Colorado River near Page, Arizona on Nov. 2, 2022. Alex Hager/KUNC
Click the link to read the article on the KUNC website (Scott Franz):
March 20, 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.
Critical negotiations about the future of the Colorado River took a two week hiatus last month after the seven states in the basin missed a key Valentine’s Day deadline for striking a deal, New Mexico’s water negotiator said Thursday.
Estevan López said talks resumed March 2, and the upper and lower basin states are using a short-term pitch from Nevada as a starting point.
“Right now, we’re in discussions with the lower basin about a potential short-term agreement,” Lopez told New Mexico’s Interstate Stream Commission.
Nevada is proposing to increase water releases from upper basin reservoirs like Flaming Gorge by at least 500,000 acre feet to help prevent Lake Powell from dropping too low.
The latest forecasts predict that Powell could drop enough to stop producing hydropower by December.
In return, lower basin states would agree to cut their water use by 1.25 million acre feet “until system conditions have meaningfully improved.”
López said upper basin states had a counter proposal and talks about it were scheduled on Thursday afternoon.
“The hydrology right now is incredibly dire,” López said. “So we’re beginning for this year, for the remainder of this water year, we’re suggesting that there needs to be a release from the upper initial units, most likely Flaming Gorge, since that’s the reservoir that’s largest and has the most water. And we are anticipating that there will be a release of half a million acre feet from Flaming Gorge to prop up Lake Powell.”
Meanwhile, the Interior Department is reviewing thousands of comments it received on a range of options for how to manage the vital waterway.
The alternatives were published in January and could result in a variety of scenarios, ranging from significant water reductions in lower basin states to creating new incentives for states to conserve water.
And after the states missed two deadlines to reach an agreement, it’s becoming increasingly likely the federal government will try to piece together its own plan before the current guidelines expire in the fall.
Water negotiators are also facing a worsening water supply forecast with record low snowpack across the West.
A map shows how much water is predicted to arrive at certain locations in the Colorado River basin as of a March 1 forecast.
Cody Moser with the federal Colorado Basin River Forecast Center said last week just 2.3 million acre feet of Colorado River water is expected to reach Lake Powell through July. That’s about a third of what’s considered normal.
“You’ll notice it’s not a pretty picture here with lots of reds,” he said as he presented a color coded map of how much water is expected to reach certain locations in the river basin. “That’s 50 to 70% of normal April through July runoff. Those maroon colors are 30 to 50% and we even have some of those pinks, which indicates less than 30% normal seasonal spring runoff.”
An attorney for New Mexico’s Interstate Stream Commission said Thursday the state expects the Interior Department to identify a preferred option for managing the dwindling river by July. The current operating guidelines for Lake Powell and Lake Mead expire in the fall.
The seven U.S. states that make up the Colorado River basin are struggling to agree on how best to manage the river’s water as its supply dwindles due to climate change and a period of prolonged drought. Their negotiations, which are not open to the public, missed a Feb. 14, 2026, deadline the federal government had established, after which federal officials said they would impose their own plan.
The federal government has not yet done so, but the prospect of such an action is not good news for the nearly 40 million people who depend on the Colorado River for water, energy, agriculture and recreation, nor for the estimated US$1.4 trillion in economic activity the river supports.
But compromise on Colorado River management is possible and, in fact, was achieved to curb California’s water use in the 2000s, to negotiate an interim agreement to coordinate operations at the Lake Mead and Lake Powell reservoirs in 2007, and to enact contingency plans to manage drought in 2019. But this time around, circumstances are different.
The negotiators for the states had long-standing relationships and built trust by frequently communicating outside formal meetings and seeking to listen to and understand other states’ perspectives, even if they didn’t agree.
The states also agreed to use the bureau’s computer model for analyzing scenarios of climate change and management decisions. That meant all the negotiators were looking at the same data when delving into possible options. And the political and social environment was less polarized than today.
The current situation
In this round of negotiations, federal leadership has been lagging. The Department of the Interior has not made clear what the consequences might be for the states if they fail to agree. The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation has been without a permanent commissioner since President Donald Trump retook office in January 2025.
The states are fractured into subgroups, according to whether they are in the river’s Upper Basin – Colorado, Wyoming, Utah and New Mexico – or the Lower Basin, which includes Arizona, Nevada and California. Each basin group holds strong positions and has generally been unwilling to shift.
Each basin group is using a different set of assumptions for the bureau’s computer model to explore options. And the discussion often gets stuck on details, which prevents progress toward broader agreements.
But those relatively new challenges to Colorado River compromise are not an excuse for failure.
Interior Secretary Doug Burgum, center between flags, meets with governors and representatives of the seven Colorado River basin states in January 2026. U.S. Department of the Interior via X
A way forward?
The current negotiations have all been done behind closed doors. From talking with people involved in the negotiations, we understand the negotiators have been left to set their own agendas and meeting plans and conduct their own communications and follow-up, with no formal facilitators.
It’s reasonable to expect the negotiators to be ready to represent their states’ interests, working through an incredibly complicated landscape of hydrology, climate and management scenario modeling, water law and administration, and politics. But we believe it’s unreasonable – and unrealistic and unfair – to expect them to also be experts at designing and facilitating an effective process for sorting out their differences.
Federal officials are not necessarily the best people to run the process either. And if the agency that ultimately needs to approve any deal is the one leading the process, real or perceived biases about the states or key issues in the agreement could further complicate the discussions.
We believe that agreement between the seven states is still possible. It may be less effective to bring in a third-party facilitator at this stage in the negotiation process, though, because of the degraded trust, hardened positions and shortage of time.
A more hopeful possibility is that the bureau adopts short-term rules that would give the states another chance to negotiate a longer-term deal – ideally with an unbiased third-party facilitator for support.
A collaborative and consensus-based planning process in the Yakima River Basin in Washington state in the early 2010s is evidence that while nobody gets everything they want in a negotiated agreement, “if they can (all) get something, that’s really the basis of the plan,” as a Washington state official told The New York Times.
We are two and a half decades into the Southwest’s most severe drought of the last 1,200 years, and this winter’s snow dearth is one of the most extreme on record.
Without an April-May miracle, human-caused climate change likely will finally catch up with the Colorado River—and the 40 million people who rely on it—in the form of a full-blown crisis later this year.
“Drought” may be too hopeful a word, since it implies an eventual end. Most climate scientists refer to the phenomenon as “long-term aridification,” caused by a lack of rain and snow and warming temperatures.
The West has just experienced its warmest winter since record-keeping began in 1895. The average October-through-December temperature in some parts of the region has been more than 8° F warmer than the 20th-century mean. This is a huge anomaly.
In Gunnison County, Colorado, one of the colder places in the nation, the average minimum temperature for that four-month stretch was about 19° F. That doesn’t seem so bad until you realize that back in 1990, another dry, warm winter, the corresponding measure was 13.6° F. For the Upper Colorado River Basin, the average minimum temperature for that four-month stretch was about 26° F, the warmest on record.
The warmer temperatures tinker with the health of the watershed.
This water year, which began Oct. 1, started out with record-high precipitation in some areas, most of which fell as rain. That helped fend off severe drought conditions. But what really counts is the mountain snowpack, which serves as a giant natural reservoir that supplies at least 70% of the Colorado River’s water each year. Warm temperatures have left some areas snow-free even in parts of Wyoming, where the white stuff normally would be piled high in March.
The diminishing snow has, in turn, shrunk the Colorado River. The “natural” flow—or an estimate of how much water the river would carry without upstream diversions or human consumption—has been below 15 million acre-feet (MAF) at Lees Ferry during 20 of the last 26 years, with an average flow of 12.25 MAF during that time.
This matters, because when the Colorado River Compact of 1922 parceled out the river’s waters, the river was assumed to carry an average annual flow of at least 16.5 MAF. Demand has significantly exceeded supply for the last 26 years, forcing the drawdown of the watershed’s big savings accounts, Lake Powell and Lake Mead, to about one-third of their capacity.
Meanwhile, to comply with the Colorado River Compact of 1922—the document that serves as the Ten Commandments for the management of the river’s waters—the Upper Basin States must release, on average, at least 7.5 MAF from Glen Canyon Dam each year.
Given that the Upper Basin states need a bunch of water to keep their cities and farms from drying up, and that an additional 800,000 acre-feet evaporates or seeps into the underlying rocks at Lake Powell each year, you can see how the warming climate wreaks havoc on the math of the Colorado River.
The entire river system now teeters on the brink, and this year’s snow drought may be what pushes it over the edge.
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 Bureau of Reclamation’s latest forecast says Lake Powell’s surface level is likely to drop below the minimum level needed for power production later this year. This so-called “deadpool” would not only mean the end of hydropower production, it would also force all of the dam’s releases to go through the river’s 8-foot-wide, steel outlet tubes, which were not made for sustained use. This could compromise the tubes and the dam itself.
It’s possible that the dam would even be shifted to a run-of-the-river operation, in which releases equal the amount of water flowing into the reservoir, minus evaporation and seepage. That would almost certainly result in water shortages downstream, at the very least for the Central Arizona Project, which serves the Phoenix metro area.
This quandary didn’t sneak up on us.
The seven Colorado River states and the federal water managers can’t agree on who should make what cuts in consumption. The feds, meanwhile, haven’t gotten around to re-engineering Glen Canyon Dam or creating a bypass around it that would enable the water to keep flowing. It’s almost as if they’ve been paralyzed by the belief that dry winters were just a minor glitch.
Now, as the spring runoff gets underway, it has become clear that nature won’t save us: We have no choice but to live within increasingly meager limits.
Jonathan Thompson is a contributor to Writers on the Range, writersontherange.org, an independent nonprofit dedicated to spurring lively conversation about the West. He is a longtime journalist and author about the West.
Lake Powell, on the Colorado River, is seen from the air in 2019. The Upper Basin states are planning how to potentially fill a dedicated pool in the nation’s second largest reservoir. CREDIT: ECOFLIGHT
With a Lake Powell conservation pool nearly guaranteed for the future of Colorado River management, the four Upper Basin states are exploring and refining the ways they could fill it.
Conservation by those states (Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Wyoming) could be one of the keys to reaching a deal among the seven states that share the Colorado River and an important part of the framework for managing the drought-stricken river after this year. The water saved by the Upper Basin states could be stored in Lake Powell as a means of maintaining higher water levels and as an insurance policy against drastic cuts.
This type of pool isn’t yet being used in Lake Powell; it would have to be established by an agreement among the seven states. An agreement in the 2019 Drought Contingency Plan allowed for a 500,000 acre-foot Upper Basin storage pool in Lake Powell, but so far, the states have not utilized this and the agreement expires this year.
The Upper Basin and Lower Basin (California, Arizona and Nevada) have been at an impasse for more than two years about how the nation’s two largest reservoirs — Lake Powell and Lake Mead — will be managed and shortages shared in the future. The situation has never been more dire: The current guidelines for river management expire at the end of the year, while record-low snowpack is expected to push reservoir levels below critical thresholds. The seven states have blown past two deadlines to come up with a plan, and the federal government is gearing up for emergency actions to manage reservoirs.
The crux of the disagreement between the two basins has been over who should take shortages in drought years. The Lower Basin has committed to 1.5 million acre-feet of reductions annually and wants cuts beyond that to be shared by the Upper Basin. The Upper Basin says its water users already take cuts in some years because streams run dry by midsummer and any contributions they make must be voluntary.
TThe main boat ramp at Wahweap Marina was unusable due to low water levels in Lake Powell in December 2021. The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation is projecting that the reservoir will fall below critical thresholds later this year. CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM
Contribution not conservation
Some Upper Basin officials have made a slight shift in the way they now talk about a pool in Lake Powell. No longer referred to as a conservation pool, it is called a “contribution” pool, reflecting the different methods — not only conservation of agricultural water — of contributing water to a Lake Powell pool.
Traditionally, the Colorado River basin states have turned to programs that pay irrigators to voluntarily leave fields dry for a season or two as the primary way to cut water use. With agriculture representing the majority of water use in the Upper Basin, it’s often the low-hanging fruit when it comes to water savings.
But at least two Upper Basin states are turning to other methods to contribute water to a Lake Powell pool.
For example, New Mexico can contribute water from Navajo Reservoir that it leases from a tribe. In Colorado, the method is less straightforward, but officials say the state is prioritizing and expanding existing programs and projects that save water.
“When you talk about things like turf removal, water-loss prevention, watershed restoration, forest-health efforts that are happening on the ground, those are benefits not only to Colorado but to the entire system,” said Becky Mitchell, Colorado’s lead negotiator in talks among the seven states that share the Colorado River. “So we’re trying to figure out: How do we acknowledge all of that work?”
Raymond Langstaff, a rancher and president of the Bookcliff Conservation District, irrigates a parcel north of Rifle. The state of Colorado explored the feasibility of a demand management program that would pay irrigators to cut back, but did not implement one. CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM
Utah touts pragmatic approach
Over its run in 2023 and 2024, the federally funded System Conservation Pilot Programdoled out $45 million to Upper Basin irrigators to cut their use by about 100,000 acre-feet. Utah water users received about $15 million of that in exchange for temporarily forgoing about 37,000 acre-feet of Colorado River water. The state put lessons learned with SCPP to use and is now in the second year of its own demand management pilot program, funded by $5 million from the state legislature and run by the Colorado River Authority of Utah.
The pilot program lets water users temporarily participate in a conservation program, and pays them $390 an acre-foot of water to do it. In 2025, Utah sent about 8,000 acre-feet downstream to Lake Powell under this pilot program, according to Marc Stilson, deputy director and principal engineer of the authority. There are a couple industrial water users and one municipal water user among the participants, but the majority are agricultural, he said.
“The pilot program is trying to iron out all these issues so that if we end up with some type of post-2026 commitment to do these types of voluntary conservation programs, we’re ready to do it,” Stilson said. “There is a very pragmatic approach in Utah looking at the big picture, and I think generally there is a sense that we have to adapt to changing conditions.”
Whether the program will continue after this year is unclear and could depend on whether the states reach a deal.
“We were anticipating that we’d have an agreement and that these types of programs would be part of that agreement,” Stilson said. “I think we just have to take a wait-and-see approach.”
Wyoming is also looking to traditional programs: State lawmakers are establishing a voluntary water conservation program. Wyoming state engineer and lead negotiator Brandon Gebhart did not respond to phone calls, emails or a list of questions from Aspen Journalism.
Boater on the San Juan River in May 2023. New Mexico officials say they can contribute water to a pool in Lake Powell through releasing water they lease in Navajo Reservoir. CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM
New Mexico seeks ‘more diverse’ ways to contribute water
The state of New Mexico plans to contribute to a Powell pool mostly through 20,000 acre-feet of Navajo Reservoir water, which it leases from the Jicarilla Apache Nation and can be released down the San Juan River. Along the way to Lake Powell, it boosts flows for endangered fish. Officials say because they can control when they release the water, it can be tracked with certainty to the reservoir.
“We all need to focus on more diverse ways of contributions, not just the classic conserved consumptive use,” said Ali Effati, Colorado River basin bureau chief for the New Mexico Interstate Stream Commission.
Water managers say that automatically turning to agricultural water isn’t always reliable because as climate change continues to rob rivers of flows, even if senior water users want to participate in these types of conservation programs, they may not have any water to spare in dry years.
“That doesn’t mean that we have shied away from those sorts of activities, but to the extent that we can do our part without having to ask our agricultural community to cut water where they already take significant cuts almost annually, that’s just a preferable perspective,” said Estevan Lopez, lead negotiator for New Mexico.
Lopez said the likelihood of seeing a future Upper Basin contribution pool in Lake Powell is nearly 100% and that New Mexico will be ready, willing and able to contribute its share of water when the time comes.
“We have our percentage easily covered, plus a significant amount more,” he said.“We have our percentage easily covered, plus a significant amount more,” he said.
TThese hay bales stand ready to be collected on a ranch outside of Carbondale in July 2024. Upper Basin states have traditionally looked to agricultural to conserve water, but some are now turning to other ways to contribute water. CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM
Colorado points to programs already in place
Colorado water users participated in both years of SCPP, but the state has been reluctant to take the leap into setting up its own program, despite being an early leader of the conservation conversation among the Upper Basin states.
In 2019, Colorado convened nine workgroups to explore the feasibility of a demand management program. The process included Colorado River water users from across the state and in multiple water-use sectors, who looked at how to set up a temporary, voluntary, compensated state program. But in 2022, the state water board shelved the studies without implementing a program, in favor of focusing on drought-resiliency initiatives.
Mitchell said the demand management feasibility investigation was an incredibly valuable exercise, but that there are still a number of open questions. Inaction on a demand management program doesn’t mean inaction on conservation overall, she said.
“The CWCB board voted to pause that investigation until there was clarity about whether any such program would be achievable, worthwhile and advisable and until there’s evidence that a demand management-esque program would benefit Colorado,” Mitchell said.
In 2023, Colorado lawmakers created a task force to again examine how the state could implement demand reduction and conservation programs. Water managers punted the issue again, failing to make recommendations to lawmakers on this topic, with some members saying conservation programs were “premature.”
The state still does not seem to have the policies in place to implement a large-scale, traditional conservation program in the near future. Mitchell said Colorado’s plan to contribute water to a Lake Powell pool is through the programs and projects already in place, many of which are funded through the state’s Water Plan grants.
At its March meeting, the CWCB approved more than $13 million for 38 projects across the state, according to a press release. They include things like urban turf replacement, creek and wetland restoration, outdoor water budgeting and wildfire ready action plans.
“Our strategy is to continue on with the programs that are already in existence, continue to fund conservation efforts that benefit all Coloradans as well as the entire system, continue to live within the means of the river and adapt our uses to align with available supply,” Mitchell said. “Because of all those programs already set up, we believe we have the majority of the structure in place.”
But Mitchell would not put a number on the amount of water that Colorado could contribute.
“We want to be a part of the solution when and how we are able to, but no, I’m not going to say we can do 100,000 acre-feet in a year like this,” she said.
Colorado River watchers may soon get some clarity around exactly how — and how much — Upper Basin states plan to contribute to a Lake Powell pool. On March 24, the Upper Colorado River Commission plans to consider projects to include in a “provisional accounting” memorandum of understanding (MOU) with the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation, according to UCRC Director Chuck Cullom.
Some Upper Basin projects that are not traditional agricultural conservation programs may be counted under the MOU, allowing the states to “get credit” for the water they save through unconventional means. Cullom said the UCRC and Bureau of Reclamation will also soon have an accounting report of water-saving activities undertaken in 2025.
Mitchell said Colorado is still committed to a seven-state consensus agreement and wants to avoid litigation. But acknowledgement of what the Upper Basin is already doing to cut back on water use will be important.
“The MOU is one component where we would like to see some sort of real acknowledgement of what is occurring in terms of the way that we live within the means of the river and what our strict administration is doing,” Mitchell said. “As long as we are not acknowledged in what’s happening on the ground, I think we’re going to have struggles.”
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
Henry Muñoz, a former miner and resident of Superior, Arizona, overlooks a portion of Oak Flat—part of Tonto National Forest and a sacred site for the San Carlos Apache. Credit: Wyatt Myskow/Inside Climate News
Click the link to read the article on the AZCentral website (Debra Utacia Krol). Here’s an excerpt:
March 16, 2026
Key Points
A U.S. Court of Appeals denied a request to halt a land exchange at Oak Flat, clearing the way for mining work to begin.
Resolution Copper now owns the land, which is sacred to the Apache people, and plans to begin exploratory drilling.
Opponents, including the San Carlos Apache Tribe, have appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court, citing religious freedom.
Resolution Copper told the U.S. Supreme Court it would begin exploratory drilling in the Oak Flat area on March 16 after the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals turned down a bid from a coalition of environmentalists, the San Carlos Apache Tribe and a group of Apache women to halt a contentious land exchange. The three-judge panel issued its decision late Friday, March 13. Resolution relayed documents to the high court affirming the land exchange occurred shortly after the court rendered its decision. Resolution now owns Oak Flat, a location sacred to the Apaches and other Native people. The Forest Service issued the final record of decision March 16 finalizing the land exchange.
“The national security of America depends on our ability to harness the abundant natural resources we are blessed with in this country,” said Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins in a statement. “The Resolution Copper project is a prime example of bureaucratic and legal chokeholds preventing our rural communities, supply chains, and defense industry from producing the minerals we need right here in America.”
The appeals court denied an injunction in three cases, blocking a legal move that could have halted progress on the handover of the 2,200-acre site and another 211 acres currently within Tonto National Forest to Resolution, the British-Australian mining company, while the lawsuits continue to make their way through the court system. Miles Coleman, one of the attorneys representing the Brown-Lopez family and other Apache women, said the firm filed an appeal with the U.S. Supreme Court over the weekend.
“The transfer and destruction of Oak Flat would be a tragic departure from our nation’s founding promise of religious freedom,” Coleman told The Arizona Republic. He said the emergency application with the Supreme Court asked to preserve the status quo and protect Oak Flat.
The ruling came more than two months after the judges heard the three cases on Jan. 8. The judges turned the three down because they said the cases were “unlikely to succeed on the merits.”
The hard news about the Colorado River since my last post here is not good; we had a storm that dropped around two feet of snow above the 8,000-foot elevation – well, maybe the 9,000-foot elevation. But that was followed by a couple weeks of ridiculously warm weather for February and early March, with more 50-degree weather forecast into the near future, and overnight lows often in the 20s, rather than down around zero. Forecasts for the runoff this year range around a third of the ‘historic normal,’ which is an increasingly meaningless number – and dangerous too, MAGA-thinking, keeping alive the hope that eventually the Colorado River will be great again if we just wait it out, or close our eyes and wish real hard, with real violence toward realists….
The Bureau bases its ‘averages’ on the recent 30-year average going by decades – so now the ‘long-term average’ is based on 1991-2020. Back as recently as 2019, it was based on the average from 1981-2010, which was more than a million acre-feet per year higher than the current 30-year average. God help us when we’re figuring in the decade of the 2020s into a 2001-2030 average – the new average would probably make this years runoff look better than it looks by the 1991-2020 average, but there’s certainly an element of delusion in that.
The ‘soft news’ about the Colorado River recently has been a declaration of ‘personhood’ for the river by the Colorado River Indian Tribes (CRIT). This is a lovely gesture by people who have been struggling for ‘personhood’ themselves for 150 years in the river’s region, and still are not quite at the table in negotiating over the river’s future, even though they have ‘used’ the river, often in fairly ‘civilized’ ways, for many hundreds if not thousands of years more than the white masters of the river.
But it seemed naive (or maybe just cynical) for the ‘lamestream media’ to ask if this declaration of personhood was going to ‘help save the river.’ We probably need to face the fact that, until we get serious about slowing down the warming of the planet, we can do nothing by way of nomenclatter to ‘help save the river’ – and even then, the best we could do would be to maintain the river where it is now, or at least not a whole lot worse – which is what’s going to happen if every year we continue to put more new greenhouse gases into the atmosphere than we did the year before. I do not see how considering the river a ‘person’ is going to change that much.
I think we should also consider that granting ‘personhood’ to another set of living ecosystems might be kind of anthropocentric. I can barely contemplate what goes into ‘riverhood,’ for example, but watching a stream one sees a system very much engaged in interaction with its whole neighborhood – giving water to the surrounding land when the land’s water table is low, and taking on water the land can’t hold when it is wet. ‘Riverhood,’ I infer, has aspects of sharing, giving and receiving, that might have things to teach us about improving ‘personhood,’ rather than operating on the assumption that all life on the planet would love to be reduced to ‘personhood’…. Just thinking out loud, sorry.
Graphic via Holly McClelland/High Country News.
Our real question today is whether we can ‘save the river system’ – the structure for storage and distribution we have laid over the river – a question with which we need to actually spend some constructive time. And that kind of leads into the second part of my second ‘era’ in updating Fred Dellenbaugh’s 1903 Romance of the Colorado River: the ‘Era of Conquest.’ (First, remember, was the ‘Era of Exploration and Discovery.’)
World War II, where I left the story last post, is a natural break in the Era of Conquering the Colorado River. Prior to World War II, we saw the Bureau do its greatest work: overseeing the construction of Hoover Dam, Imperial Dam and the All-American Canal under the Boulder Canyon Project, as well as Parker Dam to back up water for the 250-mile Colorado River Aqueduct to the West Coast cities. It is hard not to call it a masterpiece of regional urban-industrial development. In our six or eight thousand-year history of humans trying to create ‘civilizations’ to constructively deal with exploding populations, the Boulder Canyon Act stands tall as a public work, fitting for a state struggling to become a mass-society democracy (possible?) rather than putting people to work on massive tombs for the self-proclaimed ‘God of the Sun’ or maybe ‘The Son of God.’
Advocates for private-sector industry will be quick to say it could not have been done without the private contractors, ‘the Six Companies’ and most notably Henry J. Kaiser. Critics of private-sector industry will be as quick to say that the private sector has not produced very many large-scale industrial organizers like Henry J – who demonstrated than you can do big work and also take good care of the people doing it. He did not rest on his laurels but capitalized on that regional system with his Fontana steel and aluminum plants and Liberty Shipyards up the West Coast.
Green Mountain Reservoir, on the Blue River between Kremmling and and Silverthorne, was built for Western Slope interests. Photo/Northern Colorado Water Conservancy District via The Mountain Town News.
The war effort cut off most domestic development – but the Bureau of Reclamation did complete two dams on the Colorado River during the war years. One was the Green Mountain Dam and Powerplant on the Blue River high in the river’s headwaters, part of the equally massive Colorado-Big Thompson Project. More about this in the next post.
The other was a modest diversion dam below Parker Dam on the Lower Colorado: Headgate Rock Dam – for the Colorado River Indian Tribes! With all the tribes in the Colorado Basin feeling – righteously – left out of river development, one might think the Bureau would make a bit of a big deal about the fact that their first Colorado River project completed after the Boulder Canyon Project was a diversion dam for irrigating Indian agriculture. Yet I can find none of the usual historical and statistic evidence in the Bureau websites about the Headgate Rock Dam, like they have for all of the other Colorado River projects, each getting its own website. Possibly this is because the operation of the dam was turned over to the Bureau of Indian Affairs Office after construction was finished.
It is, however, an interesting story. The tribes along the river were farming like Nile Valley Egyptians, planting in the new layer of silt laid down annually by the snowmelt floods, crops that needed little further irrigation. That worked until the federal Indian agents started moving Hopi and Navajo bands onto their reservation in the 1860s – the reservations truly were ‘concentration camps,’ forcing the move to ‘civilized’ agriculture. This had moved the Indian agents to acquire some pumps round the turn of the century, to water land beyond the riparian floodplain. But when the gates on Hoover Dam were closed in the mid-1930s, that ended the annual snowmelt floods, also ending the traditional agricultural economy.
So the Bureau plotted out a gravity-flow diversion dam and canal in 1938, and began construction. But construction did not really accelerate until 1941, when in one of America’s most shamefully hysteric events 17,000 Japanese-Americans were ‘relocated’ to the Colorado River Indian Tribes (CRIT) reservation – undeniably a concentration camp at that point, if only for the concentration of people. But that added not just a lot of hungry mouths, but a proven workforce that joined the First People in working on the Headgate Rock Diversion Dam and the canal works to carry the water.
It would be both insensitive and naive to speak of a ‘happy ending,’ but as the interred Japanese did in many of the desert places they were sent to, their concentration camp became a very livable village system; some stayed on after the war, and today there is a memorial monument and periodic celebration commemorating the positive relationship that developed between two ‘unwanted peoples’ – the uprooted Japanese and the Indians who forcibly shared their homeland. A story that, for some reason, the Bureau is not interested in telling….
Meanwhile, however, the Bureau was not lying dormant. Immediately after the war’s end, the Bureau released what amounted to a smorgasbord of opportunities, under the title The Colorado River: A Natural Menace Becomes a National Resource. This proposed 134 possible projects for the development of the entire river basin for human uses – cautioning that there was not enough water in the river to build them all, thereby intruding the good old all-American element of interstate competition. Fifty-eight of those proposed projects were for the Lower Basin states, but the other 88 were for the Upper Basin states. If the pre-war Colorado River development had all been about the Compact’s Lower Basin states, the post-war development would begin with controlling the ‘natural menace’ in the Upper Basin states and putting the water to work.
The 1946 Bureau report divided the Upper Basin into three different divisions, based on the River’s three main tributaries above the canyons: there were 33 projects for the Green River Division out of Wyoming and Colorado but flowing mostly (but not entirely) through eastern Utah; 35 projects for the ‘Grand Division’ (the Upper Colorado-Gunnison Rivers, originating in Colorado but flowing into Utah (using the older name for the Upper Colorado); and 20 projects for the San Juan Division, most of whose tributary waters flowed out of Colorado’s San Juan Mountains but the river itself flowed mostly through northern New Mexico and southern Utah.
The Little Snake River is about to join the Yampa River on Oct. 8, 2020. Photo credit: Allen Best/Big Pivots
An obvious challenge lay in the absence of any coordination between those natural divisions of the Upper Basin and the geographically-irrelevant state boundaries. Every major tributary except for the Gunnison River crossed at least one state boundary. The Little Snake River in the Yampa River Basin is the extreme example, crossing the Colorado-Wyoming border seven times.
Grand River Ditch in Rocky Mountain National Park. Photo credit: Greg Hobbs
Nonetheless, the first task for the Upper Basin, before the Bureau could go to work, was to divide the use of the waters among the states in an Upper Colorado River Basin Compact. This task was made the more difficult because the state boundaries bundled the relatively water-rich Upper Colorado River Basin with other drier river basins – the Platte, Arkansas and Rio Grande rivers in Colorado, Wyoming and New Mexico; and the Great Basin in Utah. And water law – plus fervent belief in big-project technology – accommodated the notion of moving water from one river basin to another. The Grand Ditch from high on Colorado’s West Slope to the Poudre River on the East Slope was already being dug by the turn of the century. Unlike water for either agricultural or municipal uses within a basin, nothing flows back into the basin of origin from a transmountain diversion – a total depletion.
The task of dividing the use of the Upper Basin waters was also complicated by vague writing in the Colorado River Compact – Article III(d), stating that ‘the States of the Upper Division will note (sic) cause the flow of the river at Lee Ferry to be depleted below an aggregate of 75,000,000 acre feet for any period of ten consecutive years.’ Was this a caution to the Upper Basin states to make sure their uses did not start cutting into the Lower Basin’s shares? Or was it a mandate to those states to deliver that much water even if it meant cutting their own uses – essentially turning the Compact into a ‘senior water right’ to the Lower Basin?
This was not really foreseen as an issue in 1922, with a river that early 20th-century optimism assumed would run at around 18 million acre-feet (maf) forever. But after the drought of the 1930s and the middling flows of early 40s, plus the mid-war treaty with Mexico to deliver 1.5 maf across that border every year, it was evident to the Upper Basin state negotiators, who gathered in 1946 to work on an Upper Basin Compact, that the river might not always produce the 7.5 maf the Compact promised to them. Their preferred interpretation of the Compact’s Article III(d) would obviously be the ‘cautionary’ interpretation – don’t be the cause of the river flow declining. But they also knew that California and Arizona would interpret it as a ‘mandate’ – and since Congress would have to ratify their Compact, they chose to not ‘waken the bear,’ as California’s current governor would put it.
So rather than dividing the use of the Upper River’s hoped-for allotment of 7.5 maf in four set figures, like the Lower Basin has, they chose to divide it into percentages: 51.75% for Colorado (which provides around 70% of the river’s water), 23% for Utah, 13% for Wyoming, and 11.25% for New Mexico. They also chose to calculate their usage by their depletions of a stream’s flow rather than adding up consumptive uses, as the Lower Basin does. I will not pretend to know exactly how this works – except to note that a measure of depletions by users also includes evaporation and transpiration, while the Lower Basin’s measures allows such considerations to get lost in their calculations of usage. (The Bureau calculates Lower Basin evaporation and transpiration on a separate spreadsheet from recorded uses.)
Meanwhile, however -… Don’t you just love it when a writer intrudes ‘Meanwhile, however’ into an already complicated mess? This is my secondmeanwhile in this post, so it is probably time to give you a break, with only a teaser about the next step in this growing ganglia of complexity.
While the still somewhat beloved Bureau of Reclamation, creator of Hoover Dam and the New West, was just cranking up the mill for the development of the rest of the Colorado River Basin waters, the Upper Basin states had already been working out their separate peace over the transmountain diversion issue between the wet Colorado River basins of origin with low populations, and drier basins of destination with large populations across the mountains. This is a story that goes back to the 1930s, with the ‘New Deal’ federal government putting out large amounts of funding for public projects in all the states – but with the caveat that for any state to tap into that funding, the whole state had to want the project…. Stay tuned for the next thrilling episode in The West’s Romance with Conquest.
Colorado transmountain diversions via the State Engineer’s office
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 Tucson.com website (Tony Davis). Here’s an excerpt:
March 14, 2026
The record-breaking heat in this month’s forecast is likely to help push the Colorado River Basin to the edge of “disaster,” in which drastic cuts in water use will be necessary next year, experts say. The heat is almost certain to slash river flows even more than already expected after the snowpack in key sites above Lake Powell hit record lows this winter. The upshot: Lake Powell is likely to get less than one-third the water from the river that it would in an average April to July. The unusually low flows won’t be bad enough to push the basin into immediate disaster this year. But several experts said it is virtually inevitable that major cuts in river water use will be needed next year in Arizona and other Western states — unless the winter of 2026-27 is far cooler and wetter than the current one.
“We can survive this year, no problem. What’ll be interesting to see is if this year puts enough scare into the states to begin real serious rethinking about how we manage water,” said David Wegner, a retired U.S. Bureau of Reclamation planner and congressional staffer who now sits on a National Academy of Sciences board that reviews water issues.
The Bureau of Reclamation already projected, in February, that Lake Powell is likely to fall below the level at which the turbines at adjoining Glen Canyon Dam can generate electricity — 3,490 feet — by December 2026. Given the trend toward lower snowpack, higher temperatures and less runoff of water into the river, it’s very possible if not likely, that future forecasts will show the lake falling below 3,490 feet sooner than December. But most observers, including Kuhn and Wegner expect the bureau to try to forestall that possibility in advance by releasing extra water from reservoirs upstream of Lake Powell, led by Flaming Gorge reservoir at the Utah-Wyoming border. Powell is at the Arizona-Utah border.
Click the link to read the article on the Big Pivots website (Allen Best):
March 6, 2026
Might the Colorado River runoff be as bad as 2002? March could bring snow and rain. Almost certainly it will bring warm temperatures.
What if March brings temperatures suitable for flip flops in places like Steamboat, Vail and Telluride? And what if the snow that does fall on the headwaters of the Colorado River is average or less?
Things could get much more grim in the Colorado River Basin this year, conceivably as bad as 2002. That year was memorable for the pitiful runoff, the peak barely discernible in Glenwood Canyon in April and May. Worse came in June when three fires erupted at very nearly the same time.
The Hayman Fire (2002) was the state’s largest recorded wildfire. Smoke from the massive blaze could be seen and smelled across the state. Photo credit to Nathan Bobbin, Flickr Creative Commons.
Bill Owens, who was then Colorado’s governor, toured the state by plane, visiting the Hayman fire that started near Colorado Springs, the Coal Seam Fire at Glenwood Springs, and the Missionary Ridge Fire north of Durango. “All of Colorado is on fire,” he said, a remark that some, concerned about impacts to tourism, derided as an overstatement. But within that statement was a certain truth.
This week, NOAA’s Colorado River Basin Forecast Center released its projected flows into Lake Powell. It doesn’t look pretty. Jeff Lukas, the principle at Lukas Climate Research and Consulting, assembled this graphic that shows how the projections visually compare to other years since 1991.
“Despite better snowfall in February, the most probable forecast remains bleak at 36% of average,” he said on LinkedIn. That, he added, would put runoff in the observed flows into Powell in 2012, 2013, 2018, 2021, and 2025. “In other words, a bad neighborhood,” he said.
An unusually wet and cool March through May would only get the inflow to 65% of average. On the other hand, it could go in the other direction. A warm and dry March could eviscerate the existing snowpack.
James Eklund, a water attorney and former director of the Colorado Water Conservation Board, pointed out that the long-term average has been 6.7 million acre-feet. The March forecast projected runoff of around 2.3 million ace-feet.
Colorado transmountain diversions via the State Engineer’s office
“The river cares not about our legal arguments,” he said in a LinkedIn post, a reference to the intense squabbling about how to share a river that has been rapidly diminishing in average volume in the 21st century. Even in places like Arvada, people who don’t realize that they are watering their lawns and taking their showers with water imported from a Colorado River tributary do realize the Colorado River has problems.
The runoff could conceivably be worse than 2002. There’s a big difference, though. In 2002, the reservoirs held a great deal of water. Not completely full, but within a good water year of being full. Total runoff that year was 25% of average. Most years since then have been below average, leaving water levels of Powell within striking distance of deadpool.
From his post in the Glenwood Springs area, Eric Kuhn sees March storms having potential to bump up the runoff numbers. “This is one of those years where March could make a big difference. But when I look at the outlook for three or four weeks, it looks like March will definitely be above average in temperatures, which is not good news. I think it’s too soon to tell whether we will have average or below average precipitation. But warm temperatures will not be good to the snowpack.” [ed. emphasis mine]
This year’s runoff will add tension to the already fraught situation in the Colorado River Basin. Kuhn, a former manager of the Colorado River Water Conservation District, said he wouldn’t be surprised if the Bureau of Reclamation — an agency within the Department of Interior that oversees operation of the federal dams — finds it must release one million acre-feet less than the base 7.5 million acre-feet release.
This could trigger a legal fight. The Colorado River Compact imposes a requirement upon the upper Colorado River Basin states to deliver 75 million acre-feet on a rolling 10-year average. This would take the upper-basin states below that threshold.
That provision in the compact has been debated almost since Congress approved it in 1929. But, under the most aggressive interpretation by lower-basin states, this could put the upper-basin out of compliance. As such, this could be the year that puts the basin states on long road to a U.S. Supreme Court review.
A meager runoff this year will also put the Department of Interior into an uncomfortable position of having to make decisions. Kuhn says the federal agency’s water officials have traditionally tried to mediate disputes among the seven basin states. This year the agency might have to make decisions that leave people upstream and down unhappy.
“They could sit back (in former days) and say we are not going to take a position because we don’t want to upset either side. We have to work with both sides. Those days have come to an end, unfortunately.”
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
While the Four Corners Country uranium mining “renaissance” advances in starts and fits and hyped up press releases, copper and critical mineral extraction in southern Arizona moves forward in more substantial ways.
Last week, the U.S. Forest Service published the final environmental impact statement for South32’s proposal to re-open and expand the Hermosa Mine in southern Arizona to extract battery materials such as manganese and zinc, along with silver and lead. This opened the 45-day objection period.
The mine is on patented claims (private land), but would be expanded onto unpatented claims (public land) in the Coronado National Forest in southern Arizona’s Patagonia Mountains, an area long inhabited by the Sobaipuri O’odham and Hohokam people. The mountains occupy the nexus of several different biological provinces and are home to hundreds of species of birds, bees, bats, and butterflies, as well as the unique Madrean Pine-Oak Woodlands.
The proposed action, an underground mine, would play out on about 442 surface acres and would restrict access to about 578 acres of public lands. Mining would be done by the long-hole open stope method.
Area residents and advocates worry this sort of industrialization will harm the delicate and unique ecosystem and the diverse array of wildlife that depends on it. As is often the case with underground hardrock mining, a primary concern is for its effects on water quality and quantity.
Under South32’s proposed action, it would pump about 2,790 acre-feet of groundwater per year to dewater the mine, which would draw down the aquifer and water levels of area wells. Some of this water would be used for other mining purposes, some would be discharged into area streams, and some would be discharged into rapid infill basins in order to slow the aquifer’s drawdown.
Acid mine drainage is expected to occur in the sulfide ore body, which, if not treated properly, could contaminate groundwater or streams in the arid region.
Canada-based Faraday Copper has signed a letter of intent to acquire the shuttered San Manuel copper mine in southern Arizona from BHP Group Limited. The San Manuel mine, just outside Mammoth, Arizona, was once the nation’s largest underground copper mine and a significant producer up to its closure in 1999.
Faraday hopes to reopen the mine and associated infrastructure and pair it up with its proposed Copper Creek venture nearby.
The proposed Copper Creek mine covers about 78 square kilometers in the Galiuro Mountains about 9 miles east of Mammoth. Last June, the Bureau of Land Management approved Faraday’s plan to construct 67 drill pads, along with associated roads and infrastructure.
The development has sparked pushback from residents, advocates, and tribal nations, who worry about the drilling’s potential impacts to water quantity and quality in the Lower San Pedro River, which flows nearby, not to mention the prospect of a giant open pit mine in the biodiverse mountain range. The proposed mine site is also near the Aravaipa Wilderness Area, a stunning canyon and desert riparian zone.
***
Mining company press releases tend to be vapid pronouncements about purportedly successful prospecting efforts. But every once in a while, they say something interesting. Such was the case with a bulletin sent out with this header:
American Atomics Bets $18 Million on Utah Uranium: Will It Break Free from Colorado’s Regulatory Grip and Capitalize on the Nuclear Surge?
What the heck is this about? American Atomics, née Great Northern Energy Metals, is looking to acquire an 80% interest in 217 mining claims in the Lisbon Valley in Utah. In the process, they are apparently abandoning a project near Slick Rock, in San Miguel County, Colorado, because the county recently implemented new mining regulations.
I knew that San Miguel County was working on mining regulations — which were adopted this January — but I’m honestly a bit surprised that they chased this company away from a viable project. Which could indicate that the project wasn’t actually all that viable in the first place.
American Atomics would acquire the Lisbon Valley claims from Big Indian Prospecting LLC, which is run by none other than Mark Steen, the son of Moab’s uranium king Charles Steen.
My first impulse upon seeing the faded and tattered windsocks as I motored along a southeastern Utah backroad in early November was to look for the landing strip. There was none. Then I saw the distinctive infrastructure of an oil and gas well surrounded by WARNING POISON GAS KEEP OUT s…
🐟 Colorado River Chronicles 💧
The incredible shrinking Lake Powell is having a tough time of it lately. First, it’s growing smaller and smaller, thanks to acidification and folks pulling more water out of the Colorado River than it carries, which is causing some boat launch ramps to be unusable. As the reservoir subsides, it leaves big sand and mudflats behind, which leads to nasty quicksand that can suck in unsuspecting beachgoers. The National Park Service is warning visitors about those two hazards, and now there’s a new one: harmful algal blooms containing cyanotoxins have been detected at dangerously high concentrations in parts of the reservoir. The NPS recommends avoiding water that has algal blooms.
☘️ Annals of Alfalfa 🍀
For those of you interested in the alfalfa, irrigation, and Colorado River issues, I recommend going back and checking out the comment thread on Tuesday’s “Alfalfa Fallacy” dispatch. At last count there were 26 comments, all of which add context and insight to this tangled issue.
Anyone can read the comments, but only paid subscribers can contribute to the comment section and become part of this smart community. So sign up now!
There’s a lot of press on Sen. Mike Lee’s and Rep. Celeste Maloy’s attempts to use the Congressional Review Act to axe Grand Staircase Escalante’s management plan. There’s a good reason for all of the attention: It’s another bid by the senator to diminish public lands protections, which seems to be his primary mission and the consequences could be far-reaching.
That said, it seems that a lot of the coverage is slightly overblown, and maybe gives the wrong idea of what, exactly, this might mean for the national monument if it is successful. So I’m going to try to offer some clarity here. I’m not doing this to criticize these media outlets — which I do respect — but hopefully to explain what a national monument designation does and the role its management plan plays.
Inside Climate News headlined their story on the move like this:
“A Little-Used Maneuver Could Mean More Drilling and Mining in Southern Utah’s Redrock Country“
“The monument would still exist on paper. But the framework governing what happens on 1.87 million acres of southern Utah canyon country would be gone. Camping, grazing, road access, mineral extraction, cultural site protections. All of it. And BLM would be legally prohibited from replacing it with anything substantially similar.
“A monument without a management plan is a legal shell. A name on a map with no rules governing what happens on the ground.“
Okay, this move could mean a lot of things somewhere down the road, including perhaps more mining and drilling somewhere, and it would set a scary precedent. But eliminating the management plan for the national monument will not by itself lead to more drilling and mining within the national monument. That’s because even without a management plan, a national monument does have meaning and certain restrictions that are inherent in its national monument-ness. It is not, as MTJPs puts it, merely a “legal shell.”
When a president designates a national monument under the authority of the Antiquities Act, they typically withdraw all federal land within the boundaries from new mining claims and energy leases. When re-establishing GSENM after it had been shrunken by Trump, President Biden proclaimed that the land would be withdrawn “from all forms of entry, location, selection, sale, or other disposition under the public land laws, from location, entry, and patent under the mining laws, and from disposition under all laws relating to mineral and geothermal leasing.”
Existing, valid leases and claims are grandfathered in, but in the case of GSENM, the feds bought out the only existing lease — for a coal mine on the Kaiparowitz Plateau — shortly after the original designation in 1996.The proclamation designating the national monument also contains other, overarching guidelines. For example, when Biden restored GSENM and Bears Ears in 2021, he added this to the proclamations:
“The Secretary shall … ensure the protection of sacred sites and cultural properties and sites in the monument and provide access to Tribal members for traditional cultural, spiritual, and customary uses … including collection of medicines, berries and other vegetation, forest products … .”
And he added this:
“Should grazing permits or leases be voluntarily relinquished by existing holders, the Secretary shall retire from livestock grazing the lands covered by such permits or leases … Forage shall not be reallocated for livestock grazing purposes.”
These things are baked into the national monument from the beginning, and stand apart from any management plan. They can’t be altered without revoking the proclamation or replacing it with another one.
The management plan then zooms in and develops a more detailed regulatory framework, such as which areas of the monument might be off limits to grazing, or if and where recreational target shooting is allowed, or which roads are designated for motorized use. While they are usually more restrictive than the pre-monument resource management plans, this isn’t always the case. And they typically don’t address oil and gas drilling or mining because those uses are prohibited by the national monument’s proclamation.
Lee and Maloy are looking to revoke the management plan, not the national monument itself (although I’m sure they’d like that, too). If they succeed, they will not clear the way for drilling or mining within the monument’s boundaries. Nor will it create some kind of anarchic free-for-all in the canyons of southern Utah.
Most likely the monument would revert back to the previous management plan, which was developed under Trump I for a significantly diminished national monument. This is problematic because that plan was more lax, sought to reinstate suspended grazing leases, and allowed extractive uses in the removed parts of the monument. If nothing else, it will cause confusion and leave some parts of the national monument in regulatory limbo.
However, all of the land will still be overseen by the BLM, and would still be subject to federal environmental and historic preservation laws. Camping, grazing, and road access rules and cultural site protections wouldn’t just vanish. And, of course, new mining claims and energy leases would continue to be banned within the monument, because those withdrawals supersede the management plan.
That said, the prospect of eliminating this management plan is alarming. The agencies spent years developing it in consultation with tribal nations, they incorporated oodles of public comments and concerns, and ended up with a solid, compromise blueprint for overseeing a vast and varied and spectacular landscape. Lee would just be tossing all of that effort and all of the resources that went into making it into the trash, while sowing confusion for both the national monument managers and its many visitors. And all for what?
I’m guessing Lee’s just trying to score points with his base. But also, it seems that his long-term agenda is to force public land management into a state of utter dysfunction in hopes of gaining support for his mission to turn over public lands to private hands.
On a related note, one reader asked how the Congressional Review Act could be applied to a management plan that was finalized over a year ago. After all, the CRA is intended to be used on new rules, and has a set time limit. Great question! For an answer, I consulted an explainer by Sarah Hart-Curran of the Harvard Law School’s Environmental & Energy Law Program.
Hart-Curran writes: “For 60 legislative days after Congress receives a rule, Congress can use ‘fast track’ procedures to issue a joint resolution of disapproval, meaning Congress needs only a simple majority in the Senate to veto the rule.”
Obviously, it has been more than 60 days since the plan was finalized. So what gives? Well, like all such plans, this one was not submitted to Congress, simply because these plans have not been considered “rules” in the past. So really, they shouldn’t be subject to the CRA at all, time limit or no. Hart-Curran explains:
“If an agency does not submit a rule that Congress thinks should be subject to CRA review, congressional practice is to request an opinion from the GAO. If the GAO finds the action is subject to the CRA, the GAO opinion serves as submission of a rule, beginning the 60-legislative-day clock.”
Yeah, so Lee and Maloy submitted this to the GAO, the GAO said it was a rule, and so the 60-day clock is now ticking.
📸 Parting Shot 🎞️
The now defunct Hatch Trading Post back when it was still running. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
The Colorado River flows beneath Navajo Bridge in Arizona on Dec. 27, 2019. Three tribes in Arizona are pushing for a settlement that would solidify their access to the River’s water and provide billions of dollars for water infrastructure. Photo credit: Mitch Tobin/The Water Desk
Click the link to read the article on the KJZZ website (Alex Hager). Here’s an excerpt:
March 11, 2026
Coverage of tribal natural resources is supported in part by Catena Foundation
Tribal leaders and U.S. senators spoke out in support of a measure that would solidify access to water for three tribes with land in Arizona during a Wednesday [March 11, 2026] hearing at the Senate Indian Affairs Committee. The Northeastern Arizona Indian Water Rights Settlement, or NAIWRSA, would settle claims to water by the Navajo, Hopi and San Juan Southern Paiute tribes, and provide $5 billion to build new water delivery systems and help the tribes access their water. The settlement would need to be authorized by congress to go into effect. At Wednesday’s Senate committee hearing, impassioned pleas to bring water to tribal communities ran up against federal concerns about the cost of a settlement, and talks of hesitation from some states that use the Colorado River.
“This settlement is more than a legal agreement,” said Lamar Keevama, chairman of the Hopi Tribe. “It is a path forward. It allows the Hopi tribe to remain and protect our homeland, supports economic development and ensures that our communities have the basic resources necessary to thrive.”
An official with the Interior Department said he was supportive of the settlement’s aims, but was concerned with the cost.
“$5 billion is a lot of money,” said Scott Cameron, Interior’s principal deputy assistant secretary for water and science. “We look forward to working with the committee and with the three tribes and the other interested parties, of which there are quite a few, to see if we can’t creatively come up with some ideas to still satisfy the purposes of the bill at somewhat less cost.”
Lamar Keevama, chairman of the Hopi Tribe, testifies in front of a U.S. Senate Committee on March 11, 2026. “This settlement is more than a legal agreement,” he said. “It is a path forward.” Photo credit: U.S. Senate Committee On Indian Affairs
NAIWRSA has partially been hung up by a unique geographical challenge and longstanding tensions between states that share the Colorado River. The river, which is at the heart of settlement talks, is divided into two regions — the Upper Basin and the Lower Basin. Its water is managed by the seven states that use it, and they have been deeply split about new policies to share water. They generally fall into two camps — the Upper Basin states of Colorado, Utah, Wyoming and New Mexico, and the Lower Basin states of Arizona, California and Nevada. The Navajo Nation straddles both basins, with land in Arizona, New Mexico and Utah. Some of its land falls within a portion of Arizona that is technically part of the Upper Basin. Some Upper Basin states worry that the settlement would allow the Navajo Nation to take water from the Upper Basin and lease it for use in the Lower Basin, creating a precedent that could open the door to more transfers out of the Upper Basin. Buu Nygren, president of the Navajo Nation, pushed back on that suggestion.
“It is hard to imagine that any Upper Basin state would object to my people being able to use water that they have used for decades simply because of the fear of a potential precedent,” he said.
From the 2018 Tribal Water Study, this graphic shows the location of the 29 federally-recognized tribes in the Colorado River Basin. Map credit: USBR
Sen. Mike Lee and Rep. Celeste Maloy, both MAGA Republicans from Utah, have formally introduced legislation to use the Congressional Review Act to revoke the Biden-era management plan for Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument. If successful, the move would also bar the feds from developing a new management plan that resembles the current one.
The current management plan is not draconian by any means. It was fashioned over years, with oodles of input and compromise, and is far less restrictive than the preservation-oriented alternatives It allowed for motorized vehicle use on designated routes and added almost no new restrictions for livestock grazing. Revoking it is not the same as rescinding the national monument or shrinking its boundaries, and will not open up any of the monument to new mining claims or oil and gas leases.
So it’s not clear what Lee and Maloy hope to achieve, except to strike a blow to a national monument that they don’t like and to throw oversight of 1.9 million acres of public land into disarray. Or maybe they’re just trying to build up their anti-public-land credentials to head off challenges from even more extreme candidates such as, say, Phil Lyman, who just challenged Maloy for her 3rd District congressional seat.
You still have time to let your representatives in Congress know how you feel.
Ugggg.
While well-intentioned greens are parsing BLM director nominee Steve Pearce’s words for indications he might be inclined to sell off public land, the Trump administration is orchestrating a massive de facto transfer of public lands to oil and gas companies.
I’m talking about oil and gas leasing. And no, it’s not an actual transfer of public land; the lessee does not take title to the land, nor can they block public access, but they do get the rights to drill that land and preclude other uses on it. And, once it is drilled, the land is scraped of all vegetation, covered with heavy equipment, poked with a massive drill, hydraulically fractured, and becomes an industrial-scale, methane-, hydrogen sulfide-, and VOC-oozing hydrocarbon factory for many decades to come.
On the auction block this June is a good chunk of slickrock-studded landscape northwest of Moab, between Hwy. 191 and the Green River, along with some parcels in the Lisbon Valley. All in all, the BLM proposes selling off 39 parcels covering some 71,600 acres. You have until March 30 to give your two cents. https://eplanning.blm.gov/Project-Home/?id=6fad61fa-a7f2-f011-8407-001dd80bcf93
***
Of course, sometimes the BLM holds an oil and gas auction and no one comes. That was the case with the Big Beautiful Cook Inlet Oil and Gas Lease Sale (yes, that is the official name) held March 4 in Alaska, in which more than 1 million acres of offshore leases were put on the block. There were zero bids. Zilch. Nada. Someday, maybe every oil and gas lease sale will be like that.
***
A federal judge has halted construction of the Northern Corridor Highway through the Red Cliffs National Conservation Area near St. George, Utah, while an advocates’ lawsuit proceeds.
The BLM approved the contested project earlier this year. The Utah Department of Transportation, apparently wanting to get started before a legal challenge could take hold, began erecting fencing along the project, even though their development plan hadn’t been approved. This activity would have disturbed desert tortoise habitat.
The court did not approve, blocking further work until the lawsuit is resolved.
***
In other Utah road news, Garfield County began chip-sealing the first ten miles of the Hole-in-the-Rock Road in Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, drawing protest and a lawsuit from environmental groups.
The county has been aching to pave the gravel road, which often becomes riddled with potholes and washboards, for years, but failed to gain BLM approval. Environmental groups have resisted, saying that improving the road could lead to more paving or widening of primitive byways in the area, and would increase the number of people and their impacts on the fragile landscape.
The county has also wielded RS-2477 — an 1866 statute — in an attempt to wrest control over the byway, which leads to the famed Colorado River crossing of the 1879 Latter Day Saint expedition to Bluff. Last July, a federal court granted Garfield County quiet title to the section of the road within the county.
Garfield County interpreted that as a green light to chip seal the road.
That triggered a lawsuit from the Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance, pointing out that because the road crosses BLM land, the county must still get the agency’s go-ahead for major improvements. It didn’t, but the BLM has done nothing to stop the action, which SUWA says violates federal environmental laws.
🥵 Aridification Watch 🐫
I was accused recently of being all “doom and gloom” when it comes to this year’s snow levels, so I set out to find some good news to report. It didn’t go so well, but I did uncover a few tiny nuggets, including:
After the February storms, the Center for Snow and Avalanche Studies reported: “This is rare, but currently we do not have any dust on the snowpack.” That’s good news because dust on the snow decreases albedo (reflectivity), leading to faster snowmelt. We need what little we have to stick around as long as possible. Buzzkill: The really big dust events tend to come in the springtime.
I tend to rely on a handful of high-elevation SNOTEL sites as indicators of how the mountain snowpack is doing. One of them is in Columbus Basin in the La Plata Mountains. Like everywhere else, the snow water equivalent there is way below normal. However, it’s still above 2002 levels for early March, so that’s kind of heartening. I guess?
Hope lies in 1990: That year, snowpack levels in the Animas River watershed were lower on March 6 than they are today. But beginning in mid-March, storms pummeled the region, resulting in a May 3, 1990, snowpack peak that was 94% of normal and bringing runoff up to decent levels. We could see a repeat of that March-April-May miracle!
And … oh. I’ve just been informed that there is no more good news.
As grim as this may be, it also offers a glimmer of hope: The snowpack could still recover like it did in 1990. Source: NRCS.
Now back to our regularly scheduled doom and gloom, bullet style.
The late February-early March heat wave across most of the West shattered thousands of daily high temperature records and dozens of monthly ones, topping off the West’s warmest winter on record. Monthly records (121 tied or broken nationwide during the last week of Feb.) include:
Dinosaur National Monument in Utah hit 68° F on 2/26;
Imperial County, California’s airport reached 97° on 2/28;
Albuquerque airport, 77° on 2/25;
Hovenweep National Monument in Utah, 70° on 2/28;
Havasu, Arizona, and Malibu Hills, California, were both 93° on 2/27;
Sampling of daily records (845 broken or tied during the last week of Feb) include:
Mancos, Colorado, hit 50° F on 2/28; the aforementioned Columbus Basin (elev. 10,784 feet) reached 48° and Mineral Creek, Colorado, hit 51° that same day;
McClure Pass, Colorado, reached 49° on 2/28;
Needles, California, and Phoenix both hit 92° on 2/28;
South Lake Tahoe airport, 60° on 2/28.
Those kinds of temperatures melt the snow, even on north faces, causing this year’s snow water equivalent graph lines to uncharacteristically dip during a time of year when they normally would be shooting upward. They also heighten risk of wildfires in the low country. On the last day of February, a blaze broke out in Chautauqua Park in Boulder, forcing some evacuations before it was contained. Another one was sparked west of Boulder on March 4.
The North Fork of the Gunnison, which feeds the ditches in and around Paonia and Hotchkiss and the orchards, vineyards, and farms there, is in trouble. This year’s snowpack so far is in the same boat as it was on this date in 2002 and 2018, two very dry years when irrigation ditches were shut off early in the growing season.
Aside from the entire Upper Colorado River watershed, I’m also especially concerned about the North Fork of the Gunnison. Snowpack levels are at a record low for this date, or about the same as they were in 2018, and Paonia Reservoir is currently utilizing just 22% of its storage capacity (note the record high temp on McClure Pass above, at the headwaters of Muddy Creek, which feeds the reservoir). This does not bode well for the many small farmers who rely on the river for irrigation. In 2018, downstream senior rights holders made a call on the river in June, forcing junior irrigators in the North Fork to lose water perilously early in the season.
This bad situation could be exacerbated if the feds were to decide to release water from Paonia Reservoir in an attempt to buoy Lake Powell water levels. While this is hypothetical, it is not beyond the realm of possibility by any means.
And, saving for some sort of April-May miracle, the Colorado River runoff will be extraordinarily scant this spring and summer, almost certainly pushing Lake Powell to critically low levels.
***
That demands a plan, and the Bureau of Reclamation came up with several alternatives last month. Most of the major players have commented on the alternatives, and it’s safe to say that almost no one is satisfied with any of them — albeit for different reasons.
One of the more universal critiques is that none of the alternatives adequately address dry and critically dry scenarios on the river, like the one that is likely to occur this summer. The draft environmental impact statement itself states, “In critically dry periods, all alternatives have unacceptable performance.” That leaves many wondering what, exactly, the Bureau of Reclamation plans to do to keep the system from collapsing over the next nine months.
There is a lot here, and it gets pretty darned deep in the wonk weeds. Still, what I’ve included is a mere sampling of some of the comments from just a few of the commenters in the hope that it will give readers a better idea of where different stakeholders stand, and how complicated and difficult this situation really is.
For those who don’t like weeds, here’s the short version: It’s a tangled mess with a bunch of moving pieces and stakeholders who are digging in their heels to ensure that their constituents get the water they need to drink, irrigate crops, run industries, or whatever. And they’re all butting up against the reality that there simply isn’t enough water in the river to go around.
Arizona is understandably displeased because they would take the greatest hit under any alternative. This is not because they are somehow inferior, but because the water rights to the Central Arizona Project, which delivers Colorado River water to Phoenix and Tucson, are junior to most other big users in the Lower Basin. “… each alternative, though broad in scope, will translate in practice specifically as drastic reductions to Arizona’s water supply.”
“We are deeply troubled that Reclamation all but abandons its increasingly critical role in ensuring the Upper Basin States fulfill their delivery obligations under the Colorado River Compact of 1922 (Compact).” This refers to the non-depletion or minimum-delivery obligation that I’ve written about before.
“The DEIS itself acknowledges that ‘widespread impacts on social and economic conditions may also be possible,’ including circumstances in which municipalities may need to pursue alternative or even hauled water sources to maintain basic services. Drastic cuts could have cascading consequences for human health and safety and destabilize the lives and livelihoods of Arizonans, tribal communities, and critical industries that rely on Colorado River supplies.”
They say the cuts will damage the state’s agriculture, manufacturing, and aerospace industries and that it will put at risk: “… the largest concentration of advanced semiconductor manufacturing investment in the country, representing roughly $200 billion in announced projects since 2020.” Semiconductor production is extremely water-intensive, with the average factory consuming up to 10 million gallons of ultra-pure water daily.
They call on any plans to “include verifiable Upper Basin conservation measures commensurate with Lower Basin conservation measures, including identifying tangible metrics that demonstrate Upper Basin water conservation.”
“We believe that Reclamation must institute bold and meaningful changes but that those changes must be implemented in a manner that is consistent with the 1922 Colorado River Compact, the 1944 binational treaty with Mexico, the 1948 Upper Basin Compact, and the other foundational elements of the Law of the River.”
“Reclamation must prioritize hydrologic reality over predictability for Lower Basin users. The Draft EIS places undue emphasis on predictability1 for water users, a goal that is unattainable under future climate conditions unless system storage is replenished and overall demands are permanently reduced to match the supply.”
“… several alternatives include Upper Basin water conservation ranging from zero to 500,000 acre-feet annually … <but> … fails to analyze the environmental or socioeconomic impacts associated with these conservation volumes.” It adds that a 200,000 acre-feet reduction in the Upper Basin would require fallowing 52,000 acres on the Western Slope.
“Lower Basin water use must be reduced by 1.5 million acre-feet at all times, regardless of the alternative. This amount represents system losses (i.e., transit losses and reservoir evaporation) and should not be classified as shortage.” This is a longstanding issue. Reservoir evaporation and other such losses are counted against the Upper Basin’s consumptive use, in part because of the non-depletion obligation. The same is not true for the Lower Basin; when they say they use 7.5 million acre-feet, that does not include evaporation or seepage or other system losses, only what they pull out of the river.
“The range of alternatives must include option(s) that perform under critically dry hydrology. Currently, none of the alternatives in the Draft EIS perform under critically dry hydrology. At least one alternative must protect critical infrastructure and respond effectively to significantly lower river flows than historically observed.” We are approaching a critically dry situation this summer, when the feds will have to decide whether and how to keep Lake Powell from dropping below minimum power pool. So far there is no plan for this.
“Hydrology must drive Post-2026 operations. Operating guidelines based upon comparative reservoir elevations which do not factor in real time hydrology have been disastrous for protecting storage in Lake Powell and thus, have failed to provide the water supply certainty for the Upper Basin intended by the Law of the River …”
“Interbasin transactions must not be allowed in the proposed action.” That is, Upper Basin users with senior rights should not be able to sell their water to Lower Basin users.
The team of Anne Castle, John Fleck, Eric Kuhn, Jack Schmidt, Katherine Tara, and Kathryn Soren, river experts and academics who aren’t representing any specific water user, state, or basin, also weighed in. Their comments, as Fleck put it in his Inkstain blog, could be summed up as: “Tell us what you’re going to do.” And, also:
The group calls on Interior to “primarily focus on the Dry and Critically Dry scenarios. … We think it important to be mindful of the underlying year-to-year hydrology of the 21st century as we look to the future. … we are struck by the fact that 50% of the individual years of the 21st century have been Dry or Critically Dry, and only 27% of the years (including 2017, 2019, 2023) have been Moderately Wet or Wet.”
“We suggest that the DEIS include a description of an alternative that performs sufficiently well during Dry scenarios and an alternative that performs sufficiently well during Critically Dry scenarios.”
“ … it is imperative that Reclamation provide a clear picture of what actions will be implemented in the near term (i.e., next year, next 3 years, next 5 years) to protect critical infrastructure, and to protect public health and safety.”
Noting that lawsuits are inevitable regardless of which alternative the feds choose, they urge them to avoid “safe” options and go with a plan with “… the broadest possible interpretation of Reclamation’s and Interior’s authority to provide a predictable and resilient Colorado River so that the system can continue to operate in a reasonable manner while the lawsuits proceed.”
Call on the feds to “… explore these areas for possible inclusion in the preferred alternative:
Reduction of deliveries in the Lower Basin in excess of 1.48 MAF when insufficient water is available for release.
Provision for releases of water from the Colorado River Storage Project initial units as necessary to protect critical elevations in Lake Powell and ensure continued Upper Basin Compact compliance.
Operation of federal projects in the Upper Basin to store or use less water during critical periods.
Continuation, expansion, and modification of Assigned Water programs (such as Intentionally Created Surplus and Mexican Water Reserve) with improvements to ensure operational neutrality and minimize adverse impact to priority water.
Establishing a conservation pool in Lake Powell for storing Upper Basin conserved water to be utilized for Compact compliance purposes. For more on conservation pools, check out the Shannon Mulane’s explainer in the Colorado Sun.
The group finds fault with the plan for not addressing “the need for enforceable reductions in the Upper Basin.” They go with the Lower Basin’s interpretation of the non-depletion/minimum-delivery obligation, saying that the Colorado River Compact does not guarantee that the Upper Basin gets half of the water in the river. Plus, they point out that the plan’s demand forecasts for the Upper Basin are unrealistically high, putting more of the burden for cuts on the Lower Basin.
The Southern Nevada Water Authority and Colorado River Commission of Nevadaare especially critical, writing:
“Since the onset of drought in 2002, <Nevada water users> have reduced their overall Colorado River water consumption by more than 40 percent even as our population grew by more than 875,000 people. And they, unlike so many others, have not ignored the reality facing the basin by making the flimsy argument that our economy cannot prosper while water consumption decreases.”
Like Arizona, they bring up the minimum-delivery/non-depletion clause of the Colorado River Compact and call on the Upper Basin to comply with it.
Interior’s “… approach to protecting the Glen Canyon Dam river outlet works by reducing releases from Lake Powell—rather than making infrastructure repairs and improvements—is shortsighted and harms Nevada and the Lower Basin States.”
The Upper Colorado River Commissionemphasizes the Lower Basin’s history of exceeding its Colorado River Compact allocation and failing to account for evaporation and other system losses. Colorado’s Upper Colorado River CommissionerBecky Mitchell submitted similar, very detailed comments that emphasized the Colorado River Compact’s equitable division of the river between the Upper Basin and Lower Basin. She points out that the Lower Basin’s interpretation of the minimum-delivery/non-depletion clause contradicts and even negates that division.
📖 Reading (and watching) Room 🧐
Must read: Teal Lehto’s and Len Necefer’s speculative fiction take on what might happen on the Colorado River, and to the people who rely on it, in 2030 if current climatic trends continue. It’s dramatic and sensational and catastrophic, but it’s also very well informed, smart, and not at all far-fetched, in my humble opinion.
A screenshot from a new Central Arizona Project video, which says if water deliveries to the canal system are cut too much it will “cripple our state, flatten our economy and weaken our national defense.” Provided by Central Arizona Project
Click the link to read the article the Tucson.com website (Tony Davis). Here’s an excerpt:
March 9, 2026
Arizona will take nearly a $3 trillion total economic hit and lose millions of jobs that would have come to the state by 2060 if Central Arizona Project deliveries are halted by the federal government, a new report from the project’s governing agency says. A CAP consultant’s report said the state’s total economic output would by 2060 be 11% to 14% lower than it otherwise would have been, under two proposed federal alternatives for managing the Colorado River. At worst, the state’s total jobs would shrink by 7.9% if the project’s supplies were eliminated, the report said. In addition, the state would see substantial declines in population and housing growth by then with massive CAP cuts, compared to what would have happened without them, said the report.
The three-county agency that runs the CAP’s canal system, stretching from Lake Havasu on the Colorado River to just south of Tucson, commissioned this report from the consulting firm WestWater Research, based in Boise, Idaho. The agency, known as the Central Arizona Water Conservation District, has managed daily operations for CAP since it was under construction in the 1970s. CAP submitted this report as part of its comments sharply criticizing the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation’s draft environmental impact statement on proposed alternatives aimed at curbing excessive water use by cities and farms in the seven-state Colorado River Basin. It comes out shortly after project officials released a video warning that such cuts would “flatten” Arizona’s economy. At the time the video came out, some outside water experts said it oversimplified and overestimated the impacts of CAP cuts, in part because the state and local governments have already stored huge amounts of CAP water underground to prepare for such emergencies. But the new report says those supplies will eventually be exhausted, forcing many cities to return to groundwater pumping, and that some shortages of groundwater supplies themselves also could begin in some regions as soon as the early 2030s.
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
A chart from the Colorado Basin River Forecast Center shows projected water supplies for the Colorado River basin compared to normal in 2026. (Provided by Colorado Basin River Forecast Center)
“Right now the hydrology that we have in front of us puts us in a very, very precarious situation,” said Gene Shawcroft, Utah’s Colorado River negotiator. Utah just wrapped up its warmest winter on record. Salt Lake City broke its previous maximum average winter temperature by 2 degrees Fahrenheit — a significant increase, according to the Colorado Basin River Forecast Center. While the state received similar precipitation compared to last year, much of that fell as rain, leading to the worst snowpack since 1981 in parts of the state. Now, the water supply outlook is “well below normal,” according to the center. The Bureau of Reclamation’s latest most probable forecast for Lake Powell shows it sinking below “power pool” — 3,490 feet — by December. At that level, water can’t make it through the turbines at Glen Canyon Dam that generate hydropower and keep the lights on across Utah and six other states. Powell could hit that dangerous low even sooner, though. The bureau’s most recent forecast was based on the Colorado Basin River Forecast Center’s February report. Since then, the center’s projection for water flows into Powell has dropped by 100,000 acre-feet. The bureau’s most probable forecast can also be optimistic. The agency’s minimum probable forecast, which shows a dry scenario that would statistically happen only 10% of the time, sometimes aligns more with reality. Last year, the April 2025 minimum probable study forecasted Lake Powell to hit 3,535 feet in elevation by the end of February 2026. The lake currently sits at 3,530 feet. The bureau’s latest minimum probable forecast shows the lake dropping below 3,490 by the end of August.
“It’s safe for us to assume that, unless Mother Nature is uncharacteristically generous, that Lake Powell elevations are going to fluctuate at elevations that we’re not comfortable with,” Wayne Pullan, Upper Colorado regional director for the bureau, said at a Glen Canyon Dam meeting last week…
To prop up Powell, the bureau will likely rely on another popular Utah reservoir: Flaming Gorge. The reservoir that straddles the border of Utah and Wyoming has the best water outlook in the basin, at 64% of normal, according to the forecast center. The Upper Green River, which flows into Flaming Gorge, is the “lone bright spot” for snow water equivalent — the amount of water snow holds…Under a 2019 plan, the bureau may form an agreement with Utah and the other states in the Upper Colorado River Basin — Colorado, New Mexico and Wyoming — to release water from Flaming Gorge and a few other reservoirs, such as Blue Mesa in Colorado, to maintain hydropower at Glen Canyon Dam. That’s what happened the last time forecasts showed Powell dropping to a dangerous low level in 2022. A record wet winter followed that dry year, though, boosting the reservoirs.
Lake Mead and the big “bathtub ring” as seen from next to Hoover Dam. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Click the link to read the article on the KUNC website (Scott Franz):
March 6, 2026
The sluggish Colorado River negotiations have entered a new phase: Long and fiery letter writing.
Politicians, water negotiators and environmental groups recently submitted hundreds of pages of comments on the Interior Department’s playbook for how to manage the waterway. There are currently five possible options to deal with the river in the absence of a deal between the seven states in the basin.
The alternatives were published in January and could result in a variety of scenarios, ranging from significant water reductions in lower basin states to creating new incentives for states to conserve water.
And after the states missed two deadlines for reaching an agreement themselves on how to share and conserve the water, it’s becoming increasingly likely the federal government will piece together its own plan before the current guidelines expire in August.
Public comment on the Interior Department’s menu of alternatives ended Monday. And leaders from both the upper and lower basins are blasting them.
The state is generally calling for a plan that forces states in the lower basin to cut back more of their water use in the face of drought.
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 has changed dramatically over the last two decades, and our operating rules need to change with it,” Colorado River Commissioner Becky Mitchell said in a statement. “The current rules have not done enough to protect Lake Powell and Lake Mead, and it’s clear that a future management framework must better respond to today’s reality.”
Mitchell said the river is nearing a crisis point. She wrote that under current operating guidelines for the two reservoirs, which have been in place since 2007, Interior has been releasing water to the lower basin “based on demand, largely ignoring worsening hydrology and dropping reservoir levels.”
Downriver in Arizona, leaders are also blasting the Interior’s list of proposals, saying they would result in disproportional and severe water cuts to the lower basin states.
“Arizona’s agriculture, semiconductor and advanced manufacturing, aerospace and defense industries rely on the Colorado River,” the delegation wrote. “Reductions of the magnitude contemplated in the (feds playbook) would reverberate across rural communities and throughout the domestic food supply chain.”
The lower basin states of California, Arizona and Nevada are calling for mandatory water cuts in the upper basin states of Colorado, New Mexico, Wyoming and Utah.
Leaders in those states have countered that they already enact water conservation measures during times of drought.
A coalition of conservation groups, including The Nature Conservancy and Trout Unlimited, also weighed in on Interior’s draft proposals. They wrote that stabilizing the Colorado River in the face of drought “depends on early, proactive management; flexible and coordinated use of storage; meaningful Tribal participation; and integration of ecological integrity and mitigation into operational considerations.”
“Frameworks that delay action, rely on rigid rules, or institutionalize emergency operations consistently perform worse under the hydrologic conditions the Basin is most likely to face.
The Interior Department plans to review the public comments and identify which option it prefers to manage the reservoirs sometime this spring.
Environmental groups have warned negotiators in the seven states against taking their fight to court, saying that path could hold up conservation plans that are needed to protect places like the ecosystem of the Grand Canyon.
General Manager of the Colorado River Water Conservation District Andy Mueller speaks at the district’s annual seminar in 2018. Photo credit: Brent Gardner-Smith/Aspen Journalism
The general manager of the Colorado River District says that despite blown deadlines, a deal between states is still possible and needed to deal with the crisis regarding the river’s management. But Andy Mueller says time is running short to do so with an existing agreement due to expire later this year and drought and Lower Basin overuse of the river putting water levels in Lake Powell at perilously low levels.
“The best alternative from our perspective is still to have the seven states find an agreement that provides certainty. It’s really hard to do that in the middle of a really terrible drought. It’s a multi-decadal drought,” Mueller said…
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
Mueller said everyone has been good at pushing off the crises in the Colorado River. But the buffer at Powell and Mead in terms of stored water has disappeared due to the Lower Basin’s overuse and failure to account for system loss, and a changing river hydrology coming amidst warming temperatures, and as a result “we don’t have that buffer anymore, so it truly is hitting a crisis,” he said. The river has been beset by long-term drought for much of this century, reflecting what some refer to as aridification resulting from a warming climate…While Mueller remains hopeful that the states will continue to talk and keep the federal government from having to act on its own, the government needs to be prepared to move forward, he said. He said the next-worst alternative it is analyzing, which is called the basic coordination alternative but he considers to be the federal authorities’ alternative, imposes cuts first on Arizona, and specifically its Central Arizona Project as a junior water right in the Lower Basin. Mueller said that alternative also says the goal will be to deliver at least 7.5 million acre feet a year from Powell. He said that under most reasonably foreseeable hydrologies, that will put Powell’s infrastructure at risk. The water level would be in danger of falling below the intake tubes used to make power, which would leave the dam’s bypass tubes as the only way of getting water out of Powell and down into Grand Canyon. Those tubes have proven structurally problematic, subject to what is known as cavitation when a lot of water is moving through them, which has resulted in damage to them. Mueller said Reclamation has done a lot of work to try to repair them but no one he has talked to wants to rely on those tubes to get water below the dam..,Mueller said the federal alternative says that, to keep levels in Powell high enough to keep producing power and delivering water to the Lower Basin, it might have to take unspecified actions in the Upper Basin.
“Everybody in the Upper Basin, everybody in western Colorado should be very concerned about that statement because the question is, what do they mean by that?” he said.
He said that if the environmental impact statement is going to refer to contemplated actions, by law it needs to identify them and analyze their environmental and socioeconomic impacts. Because it doesn’t, the entire EIS process is legally flawed when it comes to the alternative most likely to be adopted by the federal government, and if it goes that route it could get sued not just by Arizona, which is facing the biggest cuts, but by the Upper Basin, Mueller said. He said the unspecified actions probably would start with massive releases of water from primarily Flaming Gorge Reservoir but also Blue Mesa and Navajo reservoirs.
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
Coyote Gulch’s Leaf in Byers Canyon, cut by the Colorado River, on the way to Steamboat Springs August 21, 2017.
Click the link to read the article on the Sky-Hi News website (Ali Longwell). Here’s an excerpt:
March 8, 2026
The state of Colorado, Upper Colorado River Commission, the Colorado River Water Conservation District, the Southwestern Water Conservation District and several Front Range water providers were among those that submitted comments, asking for the Bureau to finalize an agreement that legally fulfills all water rights while making bold and sustainable changes that align with the hydrologic reality of the river.
“The Colorado River has changed dramatically over the last two decades, and our operating rules need to change with it,” said Becky Mitchell, Colorado’s water commissioner and lead negotiator in the post-2026 operations, in a statement. “The current rules have not done enough to protect Lake Powell and Lake Mead, and it’s clear that a future management framework must better respond to today’s reality. Colorado’s comments provide constructive, legally grounded recommendations to bring the system into balance.”
[…]
Since the reservoirs’ current operational guidelines were set in 2007, the Colorado River Basin has experienced deepening drought conditions, declining inflows to the reservoirs and shrinking storage in Powell and Mead. As of March 1, Lake Powell and Lake Mead were 25% and 34% full, respectively. As the upper and lower basin states sought to reach a consensus on the post-2026 guidelines for the reservoirs, disagreements were rooted in where cuts needed to be made to deal with these worsening conditions. Through the deadline for consensus, the Lower Basin states offered up some cuts and pushed for basin-wide water use reductions. The Upper Basin states, however, have pushed back, claiming they already face natural water shortages driven primarily by the ups and downs of snowpack. In February, the upper division said this winter’s critically low snowpack will result in natural reductions “greater than 40% of the proven water rights” across the four states. In the draft, the Bureau recognizes that with “critically low storage in Lake Powell and Lake Mead, significant hydrologic variability and the anticipation of drier future conditions,” an agreement must strike a balance between “potentially profound impacts of water-delivery reductions” and “the need to maintain reservoir storage.”
The latest Upper Colorado River Commission and Colorado comments to the Bureau of Reclamation called on the federal agency to root the post-2026 guidelines on what the river actually supplies. In its comment, the state of Colorado said that the “failures of the current set of guidelines developed in 2007 have driven the current crisis on the Colorado River.”
“We can no longer rely on the management strategies of the past to solve the challenges of the present and future,” said Lauren Ris, director of Colorado’s Water Conservation Board.
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
With little progress in the Colorado River negotiations, some water experts are looking to a conservation program — featuring pools of invisible water and some accounting magic — as a possible path forward.
The seven Colorado River states, including Colorado, remain deeply divided over how to manage the nation’s largest reservoirs, lakes Mead and Powell, after the current management rules expire this fall. But other water users have put forward several innovative ideas for how to manage the water supply for 40 million people after 2026 as the basin’s two-decade drought continues.
One idea, known as a conservation pool, is generating a lot of conversation. Some water experts say it’s the wave of the future. A path toward, finally, some agreement among basin states.
Others say it’s a flawed concept that could hurt economies, especially in rural, agricultural areas.
“They hold great promise. They do incentivize conservation. They do create tremendous operational flexibility,” said Kathryn Sorensen, director of research at Arizona State University’s Kyl Center for Water Policy. “I think people want to see them go forward. They just also know that there’s some things that need to be fixed.”
Under a conservation pool program, water users in Colorado River states would cut back on water use, track the saved water, store it in Lake Powell on the Utah-Arizona border and/or Lake Mead on the Arizona-Nevada border, and use it to help create a more secure water supply in the river basin.
Colorado River officials are worried about the state of the basin. The river’s average flow has declined, and scientists have attributed 10 trillion gallons in water loss to higher temperatures and climate change. Lakes Mead and Powell, which together make up about 92% of the reservoir storage capacity for the entire basin, are each around one-third full.
A pool of conserved water in Lake Mead and Lake Powell could help maintain higher water levels in the reservoirs and defer drastic cuts, Stephen Roe Lewis, governor of the Gila River Indian Community in Arizona, said during an early February meeting.
It could help bring the two subbasins — the Upper Basin and the Lower Basin — closer together in their negotiations, he said.
“In our view, it offers really the only path forward that we can see that addresses the core challenge of risk each basin is facing, and provides a shared tool to manage uncertainty … in the years ahead,” Lewis said.
So how would it work?
There are lingering questions around who can participate in such a program, who would control the pool, how (and whether) people would be paid to conserve, and how the water would be used.
In Colorado, the conservation pool idea would likely start with a water user, say, for example, a farmer who grows hay near Kremmling on the Western Slope.
Colorado River water users, like farmers and ranchers, have legal rights to use water for specific purposes, at certain times and from certain places. The legal water-sharing system, called prior appropriation, gives older, more senior, rights priority. In dry years, these senior rights get water first, while more recent, or junior, rights holders might get cut off earlier than usual.
This system, however, doesn’t incentivize conservation, Sorensen said. But conservation pools would change that.
The Kremmling farmer might normally divert 5 acre-feet of water each summer, sending it through rotating sprinklers to saturate soils and grow crops.
One acre-foot is enough to cover an acre of cropland a foot deep, or roughly the annual water use of two to three urban households.
Colorado River Basin. Credit: USGS
When that farmer joins a conservation program, he or she might decide to cut their use down to 3 acre-feet one summer by not growing crops on certain fields.
The difference, 2 acre-feet, would be “conserved” water, but where does it go? Under the current water-sharing system, it would simply flow downstream, and any downstream farmer could use it on their fields.
This was one of the inherent problems in the Upper Basin’s recent pilot conservation program. In 2023, Colorado farmers and ranchers received almost $1 million to cut their use by about 2,000 acre-feet. In 2024, the estimated cuts totaled about 14,200 acre-feet and the cost was about $7 million.
Under a conservation pool program, Colorado farmers could rest assured that their conserved water would actually end up in Lake Powell.
The problem is that Upper Basin states don’t actually have ways to track that water — yet.
To reach Lake Powell, Colorado and its sister states would need to be able to shepherd conserved water past headgate after headgate, through different water districts and divisions — each with their own systems for managing water — and across state lines before it would reach Lake Powell.
“There are challenges for sure,” said John Berggren, regional policy manager for the healthy rivers department at Western Resource Advocates. “But you can overcome those challenges, and there’s a broader need to, which is to actually stay out of the courts and have an agreement.”
Once water reaches Powell, different groups want it to be used for different purposes. The Colorado River District, for example, says they will only support the idea if the water protects Upper Basin states from forced water cuts that could happen under water law if the basin’s supply falls to extreme lows.
“We do think a conservation program in the Upper Basin could be part of the solution and part of our future, but these programs should be designed and implemented in a thoughtful manner that minimizes and mitigates negative impacts,” said Raquel Flinker, the district’s director of interstate and regional water resources.
Berggren and other environmental groups are pushing for conservation pool water to be used to help Colorado River ecosystems in the Grand Canyon. The dam impacts sediment flow and water temperatures downstream from Lake Powell, which helps non-native fish species thrive and outcompete native fish.
The Bureau of Reclamation could take to their computers and “move” conserved water between Lake Mead and Lake Powell in the accounting books to make more of those releases, he said.
The art of invisible water
Many of the conservation pool ideas aim to keep the water “invisible” when the Bureau of Reclamation decides how much water to release from each massive reservoir.
The conserved water would physically be in a reservoir to keep the water levels from falling too low. At certain elevations, the dams can’t generate electricity or release water for millions of people across the West.
But when Reclamation officials look at the water accounting records, they would ignore the conserved water when calculating how much water to release and what kind of water shortages the basin states could face in dry years.
This approach would address one of the critical flaws in a similar program that has been happening in the Lower Basin since 2007, experts said.
That Intentionally Created Surplus program allows water users in Arizona, California and Nevada to cut their use and keep the water in Lake Mead to be used at a later date. In some cases, they can even divert water from other watersheds and import it into the reservoir, Sorensen said.
One of the biggest flaws of the Lower Basin program was that it artificially kept the physical water levels at Lake Mead higher than they would have otherwise been. Water levels have dictated Lower Basin shortages for the past 20 years, and the higher levels insulated the states from deeper water cutbacks, which delayed steps to adapt to the overstressed water supply in the basin.
The new conservation pools would try to correct this and expand the effort. Upper Basin, Lower Basin and tribal water users could also conserve water and use that water to help flows in rivers, protect infrastructure, and many other uses, Berggren said.
“That’s new. We didn’t have that ability before. That’s why it’s innovative,” he said.
The wave of the future?
The Department of the Interior in January laid out five options for managing the river. Three included some form of a conservation pool.
“Conservation pools are the way of the future for the Colorado River Basin,” Berggren said. “They allow for so much more flexibility in managing our reservoirs, managing our water. You’re able to respond to changing conditions quicker.”
Not everyone agrees. The Colorado River District said conserving up to 500,000 acre-feet of water in Colorado and other Upper Basin states, which is proposed in the federal options, would shrink agricultural land use and require water cuts in cities and towns.
“Conservation at this scale would have significant and potentially permanent adverse consequences, including economic impacts to communities,” Flinker of the Colorado River District said.
But — and this is a big caveat — the conservation pool concept cannot move forward without support from all of the basin states.
To set up a conservation pool program, states would need to launch new water-tracking systems. Someone would have to compensate the people conserving water. The way federal officials track, store and release water in the immense reservoirs would change.
And under its current legal authority, the federal government cannot move forward with conservation pools without risking expensive lawsuits that would tie up water management for years. But with a seven-state agreement, the feds could take action.
Arizona and Colorado, which often find themselves on opposite sides of Colorado River discussions, are open to the conservation pool idea.
The concept has merit, Tom Buschatzke, Arizona’s top water negotiator, said during an Arizona Reconsultation Committee meeting Feb. 2.
It is “something we should continue to pursue because I do believe that just formulaic attempts to deal with how you split up the water have been failing us so far,” he said.
Colorado and its sister states in the Upper Basin — New Mexico, Utah and Wyoming — have been consistently willing to do a conservation program that involves saving water in a pool within Lake Powell and potentially other upstream reservoirs, Becky Mitchell, Colorado’s top negotiator said.
“The particulars of the program and potential pool would depend upon the operational framework and/or other components of a seven-state consensus,” she said.
The Bureau of Land Management’s Mineral & Land Records System seems like a strange place to get trolled. But I think it just happened. I was looking through the MLRS to try to get an idea of whether insanely high gold and silver prices, and relatively strong uranium prices, had inspired companies or speculators to stake new mining claims n southwestern Colorado and southeastern Utah, when I came across something that seemed almost satirical.
Late last year, Kimmerle Mining Company staked four 20.66-acre lode claims in Garfield County, Utah, on the east slope of the Henry Mountains (just east of Mt. Pennell). The claim’s names? Trump I, Trump 2, Trump 3, and Trump 4.
The Kimmerle family, of Moab, control hundreds of mining claims across southeastern Utah. But they generally don’t mine them, except, it seems, to make a point.
The Kimmerles are the ones who staked mining claims on a mesa just east of Hideout Canyon inside Bears Ears National Monument just months just before the Obama administration withdrew the area from new mining claims. After Trump shrunk the monument to exclude the White Canyon area in 2017, and just before Biden restored the boundaries in 2021, Kimmerle Mining staked five new claims in the area and acquired additional claims from another mining company. Kimmerle Mining promptly filed for a permit to do exploration work there, but the BLM said they had to demonstrate the claims “validity,” or show that they contained “valuable minerals.” The process for doing so would cost up to $100,000.
Shortly thereafter, Kimmerle joined the state of Utah’s lawsuit seeking to eviscerate the national monument, claiming that its establishment had caused him to lose out on mining profits.
No word on whether the firm plans on drilling or mining its Trump claims, but at least we know these folks’ political leaning.
There have been a handful of other notable mining claim locations in the area in the past six months, including:
Platoro West Inc., located in Durango, staked twelve 20.66-acre lode claims southeast of Ouray, Colorado, in the Bear Creek drainage near Darley and Engineer Mountains. The company is registered under the name of William Sheriff, who was recently named executive chairman of Verdera Energy, which has interests in in-situ uranium mining in New Mexico.
CCKC Inc., of Philadelphia, located three 20-acre placer claims in Dolores County along the Dolores River upstream of Rico.
Roughead Resources of Moab (but which has also been associated with a Houston address) staked fifteen 20.66-acre lode claims in the Lisbon Valley of southeastern Utah near the Mi Vida Mine and the Lisbon Valley Copper Mine. At the same time, the company also staked dozens of claims in Beaver County, Utah.
Fermi Metals of Cocolalla, Idaho, staked twenty-three 20.66-acre claims on the southern slope of the La Sal Mountains, just north of the settlement of La Sal. This is near Energy Fuels’ La Sal Complex uranium mines.
Geobrines International, of Littleton, Colorado, staked twenty-five 20-acre placer claims in Grand County, Utah, along I-70 between Green River and Cisco. This adds to a cluster of previously filed claims in the same area. They are probably looking to do lithium extraction.
Utah Brine Corporation, of Omaha, Nebraska, staked seventy 20-acre claims southwest of the community of La Sal in the Lisbon Valley. UBC appears to be a subsidiary of Omaha Value Inc., which has partnered with an Australian critical materials firm Neometals on its Utah Brine Project, which aims to extract lithium and potash.
Antimony Canyon Sovereign Reserve Inc, a division of Australia firm American Tungsten & Antimony, staked nineteen 20.66-acre lode claims near Antimony, Utah, in Garfield County. The plan is to develop an antimony mine here.
In other mining news:
Metallic Minerals has been eyeing and drilling into a copper deposit in the La Plata Mountains of southwestern Colorado. While actual mining may be a long ways off, concerned locals are already coming together to keep an eye on the project and push back, if necessary. The La Plata Mountains and Public Lands Coalition now has about 225 members from the region, according to Dan King, the coalition’s administrator. Metallic Minerals’ proposal was just one of the catalysts for the coalition, and its mission is much broader and more regional in scope.
Gold and silver prices have shot up tremendously over the last year, probably due to the Trump-effect on the economy and the U.S. dollar, which is stuck at a ridiculously low exchange rate. Gold is now around $5,000/oz, while silver is hovering around $100/oz., compared to just $30 when Trump took office. Uranium’s doing well, too, sitting consistently in the $80/lb to $90/lb range.
Which is to say, mining companies suddenly have a lot more incentive to invest in reopening existing, idle mines or even building new ones (assuming they have faith that the high prices will endure). So far, however, it doesn’t seem to have sparked a surge in new mining activity. Even the Revenue-Virginius silver mine near Ouray, which is purportedly ready to produce ore, remains idle.
The uranium sector does appear to be emerging from its long slumber, but mostly in the form of exploratory drilling, smaller companies selling claims to bigger ones, and staking mining claims on the increasingly sparse sections of public land that aren’t already claimed. Anfield continues work on constructing its Velvet-Wood mine in the Lisbon Valley, but it’s still a ways away from production (and its Shootaring mill is still mothballed and unlicensed).
Energy Fuels is about the only firm actually producing conventional ore. According to their SEC filings, they pulled about 1.5 million pounds of uranium from the Pinyon Plain mine near the Grand Canyon and 155,000 pounds from their La Sal Complex in 2025. Their White Mesa Mill recovered 1 million pounds of uranium, which is a heck of a lot more than in the past, but still is far short of the facility’s 8-million-pound annual capacity. Despite all of this, the company still lost $86 million in 2025.
Meanwhile, the silver and gold mining corporations raked in massive profits, including:
Canadian corporation Barrick, which owns major gold mines in Nevada (Fourmile and Nevada Gold Mines) reported an attributable EBITDA of $8.16 billion last year, the “highest shareholder returns” in the company’s history.
Newmont (which jointly owns Nevada Gold Mines with Barrick) reported an adjusted EBITDA of $13.5 billion.
Kinross, owner of Bald Mountain and Round Mountain in Nevada, Fort Knox and Manh Choh in Alaska, and Kettle River-Curew Project in Washington, reported adjusted net earnings of $2.2 billion
Rio Tinto’s “profit after tax attributable to owners of Rio Tinto (net earnings)” $10 billion.
SSR Mining, which owns a big mine in Nevada, only had a net income of $362 million; but that compares to 2024’s loss of $350 million.
Speaking of commodity prices and profits: American oil and gas companies are poised to make out like bandits thanks to the Trump-Netanyahu war on Iran.
Iran produces some oil and gas. But more importantly, it borders the Strait of Hormuz and has threatened any oil and gas tankers that try to pass through it, effectively closing the passage. That could stanch the flow of oil and gas to the global market, causing prices to rise. The West Texas Intermediate, or WTI, crude oil price has shot up to about $76, the highest it’s been since before Trump took office. This will cause gasoline prices to climb, but also make drilling in the U.S. more profitable, and could spur companies to start using the stockpile of public land drilling permits they’ve amassed over the last year or so.
Liquefied natural gas tankers also are unable to get through the Strait to European markets, which will cause prices of the fuel to skyrocket. It could also force European countries to turn to U.S. LNG exporters, which could echo back to natural gas producing states like New Mexico and Wyoming (and also may increase U.S. natural gas prices if the conflict drags on).
Glen Canyon Dam Must Be Modified to Avoid Draconian Water Supply Disruptions
A guest post by Ron Rudolph
Glen Canyon Dam with the river outlets in use as part of the high-flow experimental release. The outlets are only used occasionally and are not engineered for sustained use. Usually, all of the releases go through the penstocks and the hydroelectric turbines. But that won’t be possible if the lake drops below the level known as minimum power pool. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Glen Canyon Dam, which impounds the Colorado River to form Lake Powell, is a single point of failure that poses an unacceptable risk to the functioning of the entire river system. Modifying the dam to allow more water to pass through or around it is an essential component of any plan for allocating the river’s dwindling supply.
The dam’s structural flaw limits the amount of water that can pass from Lake Powell downstream to Lake Mead. Lake Mead, the nation’s largest reservoir, is the primary repository of water for the Colorado River’s so-called Lower Basin states: California, Arizona, and Nevada. A paucity of water released from Lake Powell would eventually force reductions in the amount of water extracted from Lake Mead, diminish drinking water supplies for millions, harm agricultural productivity throughout the southwest, and embroil the federal government, seven states, more than two dozen Tribal Nations, Mexico, and others that share the river’s water in a cascade of costly court cases.
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
Due to Glen Canyon Dam’s physical limitations, when the elevation of Lake Powell reaches “minimum power pool” or lower, the only way to release water from the dam is through its river outlet works.1 The persistent drought in the southwest, and continued demand for the river’s reduced water supply, makes it highly likely Lake Powell will fall to minimum power pool this year. The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation estimated this month that Lake Powell could fall to minimum power pool by late July, and remain there or lower through 2027.2
The Bureau of Reclamation’s latest forecast for the Colorado River predicts Lake Powell will “most probably” drop below the critical minimum power pool level before the end of this year, jeopardizing Glen Canyon Dam’s structural integrity. In the worst-case scenario, it would do so before summer’s end. This could force the feds to operate the dam as a “run-of-the-river” operation to preserve the dam’s infrastructure and hydropower output, which would significantly diminish downstream flows and threaten Lower Basin water supplies.
In addition, the agency’s February forecast estimates that under “most probable inflow” conditions, Lake Mead would drop below elevation 1,040 in June. If conditions do not improve by the agency’s August forecast, mandatory reductions in water use would be required in Arizona, California, Nevada, and Mexico.3 If the annual amount of water let out from Lake Powell is restricted to the dam’s outlet works, it would result in less water reaching Lake Mead than any year this century, and could trigger even larger reductions in Lower Basin water consumption.4 Releasing water from reservoirs upstream from Lake Powell could forestall the reservoir reaching minimum power pool, however, that is a non-sustainable solution, that fails to address Glen Canyon Dam’s fundamental plumbing problem.
In January, the Bureau of Reclamation’s draft environmental impact statement — Post-2026 Operational Guidelines and Strategies for Lake Powell and Lake Mead —proposed several options for managing the Colorado River for the next 20 years. None of the alternatives includes remedying Glen Canyon Dam’s structural flaws.
The Bureau’s proposals have been criticized by some of the largest consumers of Colorado River water who have signaled a willingness to challenge the agency in court. For example, the Metropolitan Water District of Southern California, which serves nearly 19 million people, noted the Bureau’s proposed alternatives “would likely lead to lengthy litigation.”5 The Central Arizona Project, the second largest consumer of Colorado River water, has identified several “legal deficiencies,” including non-compliance with the Colorado River Compact, and failure to adequately disclose and analyze the environmental, economic and socioeconomic impacts.6
Depending exclusively on the river outlet works to release sufficient water through Glen Canyon Dam is bound to fail, like relying on rainfall to grow crops in Arizona or southern California. The Bureau has warned relying on the outlet works would risk water supply disruptions to those who depend on Lake Powell and Lake Mead.7 The Director of the Bureau’s Technical Service Center has advised against using the outlet works as the sole means for releasing water from the dam,8 as previous high-capacity use of them for only 72 hours caused structural damage, which required nine months to repair. Despite the remedial effort, the Bureau concluded the repairs will not prevent future damage.9 The dam’s design flaw led the Arizona Department of Water Resources to conclude the structural limitations of Glen Canyon Dam must be alleviated.10
The calculus for equitably apportioning the diminishing water in the Colorado River is extremely complicated. But one variable in the equation is as obvious as the bathtub ring surrounding Lake Powell: a new system for conveying water sustainably through or around Glen Canyon Dam must be built. Without it, risks to the Colorado River system, and the communities, agriculture and ecosystems reliant on it, will escalate, as will pressure to impose compulsory reductions in consumptive uses throughout the basin.
Ron Rudolph, a former assistant executive director of Friends of the Earth, spent 35 years in various engineering companies, including MWH Global, CH2M Hill, Jacobs Engineering, and Cardno with a career focused on infrastructure development and environmental remediation.
1 U.S.Bureau of Reclamation, Technical Decision Memorandum, Establishment of Interim Operating Guidance for Glen Canyon Dam During Low Reservoir Levels at Lake Powell, March 26, 2024, page 9
3 When Lake Mead drops below elevation 1,040, a “Level 2 Shortage Condition,” mandatory reductions in water use by Arizona, California, Nevada, and Mexico are required by the 2007 Interim Guidelines for managing Lake Powell and Lake Mead, and the 2019 Lower Basin Drought Contingency Plan
4 The Bureau’s guidance for maximum release of water from each river outlet work (ROW) at minimum power pool elevation is 3,185 cubic feet/second (cfs). The agency has determined only three ROWs would be available simultaneously. If three ROWs operate at full capacity, they would release 9,555 cfs. 1 cfs sustained for a year = 724.acre-feet/year. 9,555 x 724.45 = 6,922,000 acre-feet/year. The maximum releases are specified in USBR, Technical Decision Memorandum, Establishment of Interim Operating Guidance for Glen Canyon Dam During Low Reservoir Levels at Lake Powell, March 26, 2024, page 2. The determination that only three ROWs would be available simultaneously in based on USBR, Near-term Colorado River Operations, Final Supplemental Impact Statement, March 2024, page 2-3. The least amount of water released this century was 7 million acre-feet in 2022, based on data from U.S. Bureau of Reclamation, Colorado River Accounting and Water Use Report: Arizona, California and Nevada, 2000-2024
5 Statement of Metropolitan Water District’s General Manager, Shivaji Deshmukh, January 9, 2026
6 Patrick Dent, Assistant General Manager, Water Policy, Central Arizona Project, Report on Post-2026 Draft Environmental Impact Statement, February 5, 2026
7 U.S. Bureau of Reclamation, Near-term Colorado River Operations, Final Supplemental Impact Statement, March 2024, page 1-9, footnote 10
8 USBR, Technical Decision Memorandum, Establishment of Interim Operating Guidance for Glen Canyon Dam During Low Reservoir Levels at Lake Powell, March 26, 2024, page 9
Central Arizona Project map via Mountain Town News
Click the link to go to the Central Arizona Project website Colorado River Operations where you can find links to the relevant documents with respect to the DEIS.
On behalf of the Central Arizona Project and twenty-two Arizona Participating Entities that rely on the Colorado River, I am submitting the attached comments that express our deep concerns regarding the Draft Environmental Impact Statement (DEIS) for the Post-2026 Operational Guidelines and Strategies for Lake Powell and Lake Mead and the devastating impacts the alternatives therein would impose on Arizona.
All the alternatives proposed in the DEIS disproportionately harm Arizona and are unacceptable. Specifically, the Basic Coordination alternative proposed in the DEIS that Reclamation claims could be imposed without Arizona’s consent all but severs much of Central and Southern Arizona from Colorado River supplies that have been relied upon on for four decades, betraying the promise of sustainable water supplies that underly Arizona’s economy and potentially causing “widespread impacts on social and economic conditions. . . .”that may forcecities and townsto“haul water . . . as an alternative to support continued services.”1 Arizona will not tolerate devastation and destabilization, particularly when the DEIS allows other Basin States to increase their water use.
The waters of the Colorado River are foundational to the economy and people of Central and Southern Arizona, supporting 6 million Arizonans, many tribal communities, a thriving advanced microchip manufacturing industry, and critical mineral and agricultural production. Arizona has cultivated a flourishing desert society over the past 40 years through careful and prudent use of Colorado River water supplied by the Central Arizona Project—more than doubling the State’s population while managing at the same time to use less water. The DEIS alternatives threaten to tear apart a generation of careful water management and topple the architecture supporting Arizona’s economy which is home to the heart of the American semi-conductor manufacturing and AI infrastructure industries.
The DEIS alternatives are not just a failure of policy but also include fatal legal deficiencies, and we respectfully request that the Department of the Interior withdraw the document. The United States must implement a decision that is consistent with the Colorado River Compact of 1922 (Compact), the Law of the River, and wise water policy—the DEIS fails on all counts. The enclosed comments highlight several critical flaws in the DEIS, including but not limited to:
Inconsistency with the Compact and the Law of the River: Absent agreement by the Basin States, the operating criteria for the Colorado River must comply with the foundational authority on the Colorado River: the Compact. All subsequent statutes, regulations, contracts, and other agreements are subject to compliance with the Compact and the DEIS ignores this foundational issue by proposing alternatives that would result in a breach thereof.
Failure to Analyze Upper Basin Delivery Obligations: The DEIS fails to consider or model the impacts of Upper Basin delivery obligations due to a Compact deficiency, including required releases from Colorado River Storage Project Act Upper Initial Units and curtailment in the Upper Basin necessary to prevent a breach of the Compact. This analysis is particularly important at this time, as a breach of the Upper Basin’s Compact delivery obligations could occur within the next 12 months.
Failure to Analyze the Devastating Socioeconomic Impacts to Arizona: The DEIS fails to analyze the widespread destabilizing social and economic impacts on Arizona that would be caused by the deep cuts to Arizona’s Colorado River supplies proposed in the document and could cause Arizona’s economy to lose over $2.7 trillion.
Failure to Evaluate Reasonable Alternatives: The range of alternatives is too narrow and neglects to evaluate the reasonable and feasible Lower Basin Alternative which would equitably share cuts needed to stabilize the Colorado River System among all seven Basin States and Mexico.
Illegal Implementation of the so-called “Junior Priority” on the Central Arizona Project: Arizona never agreed and the law does not make the Central Arizona Project a junior user to the Upper Basin. The DEIS fails by proposing deep cuts to Arizona’s water supplies without Compact compliance or required reductions to the Upper Basin. Further, the “junior priority” described in the Colorado River Basin Project Act and used to distribute the DEIS cuts to the Lower Basin is a facially unconstitutional imposition on Arizona’s sovereignty and illegally attempts to make Arizona a second-class citizen among the other Lower Basin States.
For these reasons and others described in the attached comments, the current DEIS does not provide the “hard look” at environmental consequences required by law. Proceeding with this document is highly likely to lead to legal challenges and long-term environmental damage that has not been analyzed.
We welcome the opportunity to work with the Department of the Interior to ensure the revised DEIS is robust and legally durable. Arizona has been a willing partner in attempting to negotiate a consensus solution to the management challenges facing Colorado River operations and continues to stand ready to find a compromise with the Secretary, the other Basin States, and additional Colorado River stakeholders based on shared sacrifice and a recognition that everyone must reduce their uses to stabilize the system. A revised DEIS is essential to comply with NEPA and properly inform the public and decision-makers and to avoid protracted litigation.
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
Last week, the Colorado River District submitted comments and specific recommendations to the Bureau of Reclamation on the recently released Post-2026 Operational Guidelines and Strategies for Lake Powell and Lake Mead Draft Environmental Impact Statement (DEIS). In its comments, the River District calls for future operational decisions that reflect hydrologic realities, address Lower Basin overuse, and move the Colorado River System beyond constant crisis management.
“A core part of our mission is safeguarding, for all Coloradans, the waters of the Colorado River to which our state is entitled under the various laws, agreements and compacts that govern the river,” said Raquel Flinker, Director of Interstate and Regional Water Resources at the Colorado River District. “Our water users have adapted to the reality of variable hydrology. We are living with a river that has 20% less water and this trend is expected to continue. It is past time that our neighbors in the Lower Basin learn how to live within the means provided by the river.”
“What is very clear in these proposals is that we still have a basic math problem,” said Colorado River District General Manager Andy Mueller. “Every year, around 1.5 million acre feet of Colorado River water disappears due to evaporation and transit loss in the Lower Basin, yet this amount is unaccounted for in the Bureau’s water deliveries. If we want to move out of crisis response mode, every proposal must begin by reducing consumptive use in the Lower Basin by this amount every single year before discussing shortages. If we had fixed the math to align with the laws of nature twenty-five years ago, we would have almost 30-million-acre feet of storage still available in the system today.”
The River District’s letter includes 13 specific recommendations organized around several key themes. First, it calls for post-2026 operations that align demand with available supply and put hydrologic reality, not predictability for the Lower Basin, at the center of decision-making. The River District urges Reclamation to evaluate alternatives that perform under critically dry hydrology, provide a fair, transparent analysis of actions and impacts, and clearly disclose Upper Basin shortage risks in the main body of the analysis.
The letter also stresses that Lower Basin use must be reduced by roughly 1.5 million acre-feet at all times, defined as system losses rather than “shortage,” and that Upper Basin conservation assumptions and scale must be re-evaluated. In addition, the River District calls for clear, durable guidelines and definitions, including fully defining and analyzing “gap water” and “additional Upper Basin actions,” and for CRSP initial unit water to remain in Lake Powell. Finally, it raises Law of the River concerns, including that inter-basin transactions must not be allowed.
The River District’s full comment letter is available here:
Reclamation formally published the DEIS on January 16, 2026, opening a 45-day public comment period. The Bureau of Reclamation must consider public feedback when developing a preferred alternative for management of the system, and the basin states will continue their negotiations alongside this process with the hope of reaching a seven-state consensus. The current guidelines expire at the end of September 2026.
Back in the late 1990s and early 2000s, when I lived in Silverton, Colorado, elevation 9,318 feet, we often experienced a “January thaw.” It was a period of a few sunny, warm days between storms that usually fell in January but could also occur in February. If you could find a south-facing deck that was protected from the wind and free of dangling, skull-piercing icicles, you could sit out in shirtsleeves, soak up some vitamin D, and maybe even get a little bit of a suntan. Then winter, below zero temperatures, and super snowy San Juaners would return, finally and grudgingly departing sometime in late May.
A pretty big swath of the Southwest is about to experience a February thaw of its own, according to National Weather Service forecasts, including in these hot spots:
Phoenix’s mercury could climb into the low- to mid-90s this weekend [February 28 – March 1, 2026], with overnight lows in the 60s.
Durango, Colorado, is expecting to hit 66° F on Sunday (with lows staying above freezing).
It will be prime bike-riding weather in Moab, where the highs could climb into the low 70s.
And even Silverton will get up into the 50s, with the overnight lows dipping only a few degrees below freezing — bad news for the snow.
Denver is under a red flag warning for fire danger today, and will see temperatures in the high 60s.
During a “normal” winter, this wouldn’t be alarming in the slightest. In fact, it would be a welcome respite from winter. Now it threatens to wipe out any indication that it even is winter by potentially erasing the snowpack gained during last week’s storms. The Upper Colorado River Basin’s snowpack is exactly at the same level as it was on this date in 2002. Ohhh boy, if those March storms don’t arrive it’s going to be a long, dry summer.
As a deal between the seven Colorado states for how to divvy up massive consumption cuts seems less and less likely, Arizona is getting a bit more aggressive.This week the Protecting Arizona’s Lifeline Coalition launched a PR campaign, complete with videos, attempting to pressure the Upper Basin states to let more water flow downstream to its Lower Basin neighbors.
Arizona is understandably worried: The Central Arizona Project’s water rights are junior to most of the other large users in the Lower Basin, meaning they would be among the first to take cuts if there were a shortage. The window for a dramatic improvement in Upper Basin snowpack is rapidly closing, thereby increasing the likelihood of a shortage later this year.
The campaign includes a series of videos with various officials making their case. There are also a few educational ones that do a nice job of explaining the Colorado River Compact, and are really worth a watch. However, I should warn you that they are coming from a Lower Basin perspective, meaning they interpret one clause of the Compact, Article III(d), significantly differently than the Upper Basin states. And yet, that’s what their entire argument relies on.
That clause states that the Upper Basin must “not cause the flow of the river at Lee Ferry to be depleted below an aggregate of 75 million acre-feet” for any 10-year period.
The Upper Basin sees this as a “non-depletion obligation,” meaning it blocks them from exceeding their 7.5 MAF/year allocation if it causes the Lee Ferry flow to fall below a 7.5 MAF/year average. The Lower Basin sees it as a “minimum delivery obligation,” meaning that the Upper Basin is obliged to send an average of 7.5 MAF past Lee Ferry no matter what, even if that means draining all of its reservoirs and drying out its fields and cities.
In a comment on Tuesday’s dispatch, reader Steve Harris suggested a story on the U.S. Customs and Border Protection fast-tracking a 200-mile segment of border wall through Big Bend National Park.
This is a super important issue. And it’s not only in Big Bend: The entire border wall is an environmental disaster, slashing through biologically diverse, beautiful country and cutting off migratory routes and movement for mountain lions, javelina, coyotes, ocelot, deer, desert bighorns, and even jaguars. Keep in mind that it’s not just a fence, it’s a giant piece of infrastructure that requires bulldozing all the vegetation and even blasting through the landscape. Besides that, we taxpayers are forking out billions of dollars for something that isn’t all that great at doing what it’s supposed to do.
For me it’s especially heartbreaking to see the wall cut through the borderlands south of Tucson, down in the Patagonia Mountains. Many years ago my dad took my brother and I along some little road through there right up against the border, which at the time was just a barbed wire fence. It was incredible country, so quiet and mostly humanity-free.
The stakes are equally as high in the Big Bend area, where both ecological and cultural treasures are at risk. Unfortunately I’ve never been to Big Bend, and it’s a little ways outside the region I normally cover, so I’m not going to try to pretend to know what’s going on there. But a lot of other smart folks have written about it and are trying to block the new stretch of wall, so I’ll share some of that here:
Border Patrol map of existing, planned, and awarded segments of wall, including the stretch through Big Bend — which consists of about 100 miles of actual physical wall plus segments of “detection technology” in the most rugged areas.
The Texas Observer has a good story on the wall plans and the way the “Big Beautiful Bill” not only allocates $46.5 billion to build the monstrosity, but also erased existing protections for some areas.
Environmental groups and environmentally-oriented media outlets are making a pretty big stink over the confirmation hearings for Steve Pearce, Trump’s pick to lead the Bureau of Land Management. There’s a good reason for this: Pearce is well known for his hostility toward the BLM and the public lands it oversees, and he has also indicated a desire to sell off public land — a stance he failed to renounce during this week’s hearings.
Pearce is a bad choice for this job. But is it worth spending a lot of resources to get him ousted? Probably not.
If the Senate does not confirm Pearce, then the administration will just find some other bozo to do the job, which in this case is basically a middle manager tasked with carrying out the agenda of Interior Secretary Doug Burgum. Burgum, in turn, is merely executing the Trump administration’s, i.e. Project 2025, policies.
Which I have to say is disappointing and sad. Before he was a cabinet member, Burgum seemed like a reasonable enough guy. Sure he has ties to oil and gas interests, but he also appeared to be a Teddy Roosevelt Republican — an old school conservative and conservationist who valued public lands. He even managed to garner the endorsement of outdoor retailer REI’s board along with that of the hook and bullet crowd.
Instead, he has prostrated himself to the extractive industries, embraced coal mining and oil and gas drilling, and shattered environmental protections for public lands left and right. His distinguishing features as a cabinet member have been his unwavering sneer-like grin and his tendency to fawn over Trump — and coal.
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Your energy and outrage might be better spent on convincing Congress to shoot down Sen. Mike Lee’s, R-Utah, attempt to use the Congressional Review Act to revoke the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument management plan. If the “resolution of disapproval” passes both chambers of Congress with a simple majority vote, it would erase the plan and bar the Bureau of Land Management from issuing another plan that is “substantially the same” in the future.
Republicans in the current Congress used the CRA — which allows Congress to revoke recently implemented administrative rules — to do away with resource management plans in Alaska, Montana, and North Dakota. That’s in spite of the fact that RMPs are not considered “rules,” according to a January 2025 opinion by the Interior Department’s Solicitor. National monument management plans aren’t rules, either, but that’s not a hindrance for Lee.
This wouldn’t change the boundaries of the monument, but would likely cause management of the area to revert back to the 2020, Trump I-era plan. That plan was not only less protective than the newer one, but only applied to a much smaller area, since in 2017 Trump had significantly shrunk the national monument. Revoking the current management plan, then, would leave vast areas of the monument in a sort of management limbo.
It would also open the door to revoking other national monument management plans (e.g. Bears Ears), allowing the GOP to carry out Project 2025’s goal of shrinking or eliminating national monuments in a less visible, more underhanded manner.
Just a couple reminders from a few years ago that it does snow, and it will snow again — just maybe not this spring. Jonathan P. Thompson photos.
Just when you thought the GOP’s assaults on public lands couldn’t get any worse, the Trump administration launched a new blitzkrieg on environmental protections.That includes eviscerating the National Environmental Policy Act, the federal law requiring agencies to analyze, mitigate, and avoid impacts of major federal projects and projects on public land.
Interior Secretary Doug Burgum this week announced the “rescission of more than 80% of Interior’s prior NEPA regulations.” The changes, which includes limiting public comment, are aimed at streamlining permitting across the board, much as the department did with its “emergency permitting procedures” for oil and gas, uranium, coal, and critical minerals projects on public lands.
Associate Deputy Secretary Karen Budd-Falen, who is in hot water over potential ethics violations, lauded the changes, saying in a statement: “These reforms will help unleash American energy, strengthen rural communities ,and deliver real results faster for the American people.” As long as they are fossil fuels, that is, since Interior has put a de facto blockade on solar and wind developments on public lands.
Burgum finalized the NEPA rules a few days after opening 2.1 million acres of previously protected public lands in Alaska’s Dalton Corridor to new mining claims and oil and gas drilling.
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An oil and gas drilling and hydraulic fracturing operation in the Greater Chaco Region near where the BLM plans to sell more leases this August. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
The Bureau of Land Management is, thankfully, still taking comments on proposed oil and gas leases, though it’s not clear that they will pay them any heed. You have until March 23 to give your two cents on the Farmington Field Office’s plan to auction 12 parcels covering about 16,856 acres this August. The parcels are on the checkerboard, with the biggest block of them about 20 miles east of Chaco Culture National Historical Park.
This week confirmation hearings begin for Steve Pearce, Trump’s pick to lead the BLM and oversee some 245 million acres of public land.
Pearce is a hard-right Republican, former congressman from New Mexico, and no friend of public lands or environmental protections. Pearce’s political career was infused with hostility toward the agency he has been nominated to oversee. Pearce has opposed new national monument designations, is a fan of drilling public lands, has tried to weaken or eliminate the Endangered Species Act, lied about wolves in an effort to defund the Mexican wolf recovery program, received a 4% score from the League of Conservation Voters.
A few months ago we would have considered his confirmation a slam-dunk, since at the time most Republicans were still willing to debase themselves to any degree to curry favor with Trump. But with Trump’s approval rating plummeting as he suffers from more frequent cognitive mishaps and more revelations of his involvement with Jeffrey Epstein, the Senate may not be so friendly to Pearce.
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The News:The National Park Service “expands access,” a.k.a. limits or eliminates timed-entry reservation systems, at Arches, Yosemite, Glacier, and Rocky Mountain National Parks, sparking fears that unmanageable crowds will once again overwhelm the popular parks.
The Context: In the wake of the first wave of the COVID-19 pandemic, when Zoom boomers flooded Western communities and the masses descended on the surrounding public lands, people became increasingly concerned about the resulting crowds at national parks and at popular non-park trails and sites. Not only did the crowds risk damaging the parks’ resources, but they also potentially screwed up the visitors’ experiences.
In Arches National Park, for example, cars backed up at the entry gate for close to a mile, parking lots were crammed with vehicles and trail-jams weren’t uncommon, and on especially busy days park officials had to actually shut the gates and turn folks away — even those who may have traveled from abroad to see Delicate Arch.
To ease the pressure, the National Park Service in 2022 instituted a timed-entry reservation system during the busiest months of the year. This limited the number of people entering the park, but it also ensured the ones that made a reservation that they wouldn’t be turned away. The system led to a sharp drop in visitation during its first year, though the number of people entering the park averaged around 4,000 per day. But it has climbed every year since, including in 2025 when other Canyon Country parks saw visitation decline.
Still, some locals, presumably those of the quantity over quality variety, pushed back, saying the new system was diminishing visitation and hurting the local tourism industry. Last fall, Grand County Commissioner Brian Martinez asked the park service to revoke the timed-entry system and to build up the park’s infrastructure to enable it to maximize visitor numbers. The Trump administration’s park service apparently listened, and now timed-entry is no more.
You wanna know how old I am? I’m old enough to remember, way, way back to the days of yore, when federal officials and gateway-town chambers of commerce were wringing their hands in concern over a nationwide decline in visitation to national parks. Over a 13-year period, visitor numbers to 58 “nature-based” national parks—Arches, Yosemite, Yellowstone, …
🐓 Regulatory Capture Chronicles 🦊
Trump’s apparent disdain for clean air (and a healthy public) was manifested in recent weeks as the administration not only rolled back the EPA’s “endangerment finding,” which authorizes it to regulate greenhouse gas emissions, but also the Biden-era mercury toxic air standards.
Mercury emissions are an environmental and public health hazard. The Four Corners-area coal plants once kicked out more than four thousand pounds of mercury each year, along with thousands of pounds of selenium and copper and hundreds more pounds of lead, arsenic, and cadmium, not to mention sulfur dioxide, nitrogen oxide, and other pollutants.
Aquatic Mercury Cycle. Graphic credit: USGS
Those emissions have decreased considerably over the years as federal regulations kicked in and as coal plants were shuttered altogether. Still, the Four Corners plant puts out about 150 pounds of mercury each year, along with varying quantities of other toxic metals. Most of these pollutants are then deposited in the surrounding water, on the land, and on homes. For years, rain and snow falling on Mesa Verde National Park have contained some of the highest levels of mercury in the nation, and elevated levels have even been found on Molas Pass, just south of Silverton. The mercury is then taken up by bacteria in lakes and rivers, which convert it to highly toxic methylmercury, which then enters the food chain. Mercury messes with fishes’ brains, and even at relatively low concentrations can impair bird and fish reproduction and health. It’s not so good for the people who live near the plant, drink the water, or eat those fish, either.
Because most existing coal plants in the West already complied with the Biden regulations, Trump’s rollback isn’t expected to have a significant effect in most cases (unless power plants dismantle existing pollution-control equipment). However, it is expected to allow the Colstrip coal plant in Montana — one of the nation’s worst polluters — to continue to operate (the operators complained that compliance with the Biden rule would have forced it out of business).
The San Juan Generating Station back when all four units were still operating, and spewing mercury and other nastiness on the area and its residents. The plant was shuttered in 2022 and has mostly been demolished. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
🐐 Things that get my Goat 🐐
I probably shouldn’t put this here, but geez, really? Aren’t we over the whole “The West is a big empty space that we can clutter up with our myths and technology and nuclear waste” complex? I guess not. I’m sure this guy, who is clearly from somewhere that is not the Western U.S., means well. But he needs to figure out that the West’s “empty” spaces are actually full of life and beauty and, well, space, which most of us value quite highly.
Granted, the spaces shown in this guy’s pictures do look like they may have been extensively grazed, but that does not mean they are appropriate places for a bunch of damned power- and water-guzzling data centers and their associated energy facilities.
A new study has shown that it is possible, in some cases, to build large-scale solar systems without destroying the desert on which they sit.
The Gemini Solar Project in southern Nevada is one of the nation’s largest such facilities, covering about 5,000 acres of desert land. During its construction in 2022, the developers refrained from the full “blade-and-grade” site preparation that is typical, and instead worked to minimize disturbance and leave some areas of vegetation and soils completely intact.
A group of researchers from the Desert Research Institute and the U.S. Geological Survey surveyed the plant population — with a focus on the rare and sensitive threecorner milkvetch — before and two years after construction. Their hypothesis was that the facility would detrimentally affect the plant, and that the areas nearer the panels would see the biggest impacts.
What they found is that not only did the milkvetch survive, but it actually thrived “within the novel environment created at Gemini.” The plants found after construction were larger and more fecund than those found off-site. “Our results suggest that the altered environment created by panel arrays did not alter threecorner milkvetch survivorship at Gemini.”
It’s just one study focused on one solar installation and one plant. But it does suggest that, if done correctly, utility-scale solar development does not have to be a desert’s death knell.
In related, but less sunny news: Lawmakers from a handful of states have proposed bills that would make it easier for residents and businesses to install plug-in or balcony solar panels. While these panels don’t generate a ton of electricity, they are relatively inexpensive and, as the name indicates, are pretty simple to hook up. They are common in parts of Europe, especially Germany, and are gaining popularity in the U.S. since the Trump administration has killed most federal rooftop solar subsidies. The legislation is mostly aimed at allowing folks to plug these things in without a permit or go-ahead from the utility.
Last year, Utah, of all places, actually passed one of these bills. But so far this year plug-in solar legislation has died in Wyoming and in Arizona, after utilities expressed concerns. Come on! The California bill seems to still be alive.
Parting Note
I’ll be leading a couple of workshops and giving a talk at this year’s Entrada Institute “Writing from the Land” on May 14-16 in Torrey, Utah. Check it out:
Colorado River “Beginnings” where the snow accumulates. Photo: Brent Gardner-Smith/Aspen Journalism
Click the link to read the article on the InkStain website (John Fleck):
February 27, 2026
It is hard to know where to begin. The Department of the Interior’s Post-2026 Colorado River draft environmental impact statement, and the deep questions it raises, is an “everything including the kitchen sink” sort of process.
But at its root, the question it raises is simple: Tell us what you’re going to do.
It is easiest to quote the Draft EIS itself on the central question: “In critically dry periods, all alternatives have unacceptable performance.” Roger that. Tell us what you’re going to do.
In the short run, with a meager snowpack and no clear explanation of how federal and state managers are going to operate the reservoir system, the basin’s dams and diversions now, we have no clear picture of what will happen in 2026. Tell us what you’re going to do.
Some specifics
The ad-hoc collective that Allen Best dubbed “the Traveling Wilburys of the Colorado River” – Anne Castle, Eric Kuhn, Jack Schmidt, Kathryn Sorensen, Rin Tara, and me – took yet another stab at offering our suggestions in comments we submitted yesterday to Interior’s P26 EIS process.
I’ve been mentally largely elsewhere lately, finishing up the book and managing my health (I’m doing great! Thanks for asking!), so I mostly show up at the last minute on these things to dub my vocals, but my friends are very kind and inclusive, and they do good work. In particular, stuff like this full of both useful NEPA-speak and also substance:
As I said: Tell us what you’re going to do.
As I said: Tell us what you’re going to do.
This one’s on you, Secretary Burgum. We do offer suggestions, but if you don’t like ours, then tell us your alternative: Tell us what you’re going to do.
This one has seemed for a long time like a no-brainer to me:
Really?
This one’s on my Upper Basin leaders: Really?
Again, Secretary Burgum: Tell us what you’re going to do.
The colossal failure of the Colorado River Basin leadership is on display in this simple sentence from the draft EIS: “In critically dry periods, all alternatives have unacceptable performance.” [ed. emphasis mine]
You’ve spent the last few years telling us what you can’t do. It’s on you now: Tell us what you’re going to do.
(Lots more in the full comments, it’s a useful primer on the current state of play.)
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
Evening light hits the bluffs above the Green River at Fontenelle Reservoir in June 2021. (Ryan Dorgan/WyoFile)
Click the link to read the article on the WyoFile website (Dustin Bleizeffer):
February 18, 2026
Historically bad snow and water conditions raise stakes for Colorado River basin states as feds prepare to intervene.
Wyoming water officials are desperately hoping to avoid a federal intervention into the high-stakes deadlock among Colorado River stakeholders seeking a compromise on shared water appropriation cuts.
Wyoming and the six other Colorado River basin states blew through another deadline Saturday to come to an agreement, raising the possibility that the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation will dictate a new drought response plan — a situation that could dash cooperation and spawn intense legal entanglements, observers say.
Making matters worse is an intense “snow drought” so far this winter that’s compounding a “mega drought” across much of the seven-state basin region that’s lingered for more than two decades. It’s so dry that federal water managers warn Lake Powell — for the first time in 63 years — could drop 50 feet, low enough to no longer produce hydroelectric power at the Glen Canyon dam, according to the Bureau’s latest projections.
The intense situation was a topic of discussion Tuesday as a legislative committee considered a bill — Senate File 84, “Voluntary water conservation program.” The Wyoming State Engineer’s Office hopes it will give the state some negotiating leverage and protection over the state’s share of Colorado River-bound water.
Jim Magagna, the executive vice president of the Wyoming Stock Growers Association, speaks at a September 2025 Wyoming Game and Fish Commission meeting in Lander. (Mike Koshmrl/WyoFile)
“Our governor traveled back and met with other governors in D.C. and gave a somewhat favorable report,” Wyoming Stock Growers Association Executive Vice President Jim Magagna told the Senate Agriculture, State and Public Lands and Water Resources Committee. “The day after that, the state engineer in Arizona announced that they’re willing to go to court and fight to the death to get the water they think they’re entitled to from the upper basin, [which includes Wyoming].
“I would love to be able to sit here and tell you this is totally unnecessary,” Magagna said, adding he’s in favor of the bill. “Unfortunately, the scenario we’re facing in the Colorado River today is that we do believe that the state needs to show some good faith in attempting to address some of those water issues.”
The committee also heard from representatives of Wyoming’s prolific trona and soda ash producers, who rely on water that is subject to the Colorado River Compact.
“We have 2,300 employees at risk in southwest Wyoming if we don’t find a solution,” Jody Levin told the committee, speaking on behalf of the trona industry and the Wyoming Mining Association.
Divvying up shrinking water
Water forecasts were already so dire in January that the Wyoming State Engineer’s Office warned that Colorado River water managers will likely call for a significant drawdown of Flaming Gorge Reservoir this spring. The reservoir, straddling the Wyoming-Utah border, is one of the primary backups in the upper Colorado River system to ensure operational water levels at Lake Powell.
Flaming Gorge’s function as a backup is merely one piece of a complex Drought Response Operations Agreement among Colorado River stakeholders, and it expires later this year. Renewing the DROA, along with other binding agreements that dictate appropriations throughout the river system, requires determining how to share a shrinking water resource that serves 40 million people from the Cowboy State to Mexico. Though Wyoming and other Colorado River stakeholders say they prefer their own compromise over a federal one, they have yet to strike a deal — despite years of negotiations.
The Bureau of Reclamation in January published its own draft environmental impact statement for a new plan, and last week the agency hinted that time is running out for a compromise among states.
The Blacks Fork, a tributary to the Green River, near its confluence at Flaming Gorge Reservoir in May 2018. (Ryan Dorgan/WyoFile)
“The basin’s poor hydrologic outlook highlights the necessity for collaboration as the Basin States, in collaboration with Reclamation, work on developing the next set of operating guidelines for the Colorado River system,” Acting Bureau of Reclamation Commissioner Scott Cameron said in a prepared statement Friday.
Gov. Mark Gordon, along with fellow Colorado River upper basin states’ Govs. Jared Polis, Michelle Lujan Grisham and Spencer Cox, issued a joint statement Friday ahead of the unmet deadline.
“Upper basin water users live within the means of the river by adapting our uses every year based on available supplies,” the governors said. “We continue pursuing a seven-state consensus, which would provide greater opportunity to pursue federal funding supporting conservation efforts and innovative water-saving technologies across the basin.”
The Platte River is formed in western Nebraska east of the city of North Platte, Nebraska by the confluence of the North Platte and the South Platte Rivers, which both arise from snowmelt in the eastern Rockies east of the Continental Divide. Map via Wikimedia.
Though not part of the Colorado River system, the North Platte River, stretching from south-central to eastern Wyoming, is also parched. The State Engineer’s Office issued a “priority administration” order earlier this month, requiring junior rights water holders along the river system to immediately cease diverting water. The order could remain in effect through April.
Water conservation bill
Senate File 84 cleared the Senate Agriculture Committee Tuesday [February 17, 2026] unanimously, with strong support from stakeholders beholden to the Colorado River Compact and some doubters.
It would enshrine a water conservation strategy that’s already been tested for several years in the state. It would allow ranchers and other Colorado River system users in Wyoming to voluntarily use less water without losing their appropriation rights, according to the bill.
“It helps avoid mandatory and uncompensated water use reductions, whether by court order or curtailment, to satisfy compact obligations,” State Engineer Brandon Gebhart said. “It provides a tool for Wyoming to be part of a compromise to address historic drought that has plagued the Colorado River Basin for the last 25 years.”
Kemmerer Republican Sen. Laura Pearson said she has doubts about the practical water conservation claims related to the strategy. For instance, if an irrigator foregoes flooding a field and allows their water to stay in the stream, that means less recharge for aquifers.
Welcome to the Landline, a monthly newsletter from High Country News about land, water, wildlife, climate and conservation in the Western United States. Screenshot from the High Country News website.
This is an installment of the Landline, a monthly newsletter from High Country News about land, water, wildlife, climate and conservation in the Western United States. Sign up to get it in your inbox.
When I was growing up in southwestern Colorado along the banks of a tributary to a Colorado River tributary, I was immersed not only in the quirks of water law, but also in Western water culture — the peculiar mores and customs that come from constantly looming scarcity. One oft-repeated maxim, usually used to justify building a new dam or encouraging inefficient irrigation practices, was: If we don’t use the water, it will just flow downstream to California — where it would presumably be used to water golf courses, fill LA’s swimming pools and serve other nefarious West Coast purposes.
I’m sure the idea arose partly from the animosity — and envy — the Interior West has long harbored toward its largest and wealthiest coastal neighbor. But I also think it comes from our idiosyncratic laws governing water use and the way they pit the headwaters communities against their downstream neighbors.
Whatever its origin, the sentiment endures and in fact has only grown stronger as the river and its reservoirs reach critically diminished levels, while the seven states that rely on them fail to agree on how to manage the issue going forward. Maybe the maxim needs an update. The big question today is: How much of the Colorado River’s water should be allowed to flow downstream to California, Arizona and Nevada?
How did we get here?
Western water law is based on the prior appropriation doctrine, which gives the first entity to make “beneficial use” of water the right to keep on using that amount, even if that means that upstream “junior” users’ spigots will get shut off. By the early 1900s, a rapidly growing California was enthusiastically diverting the Colorado River, with huge irrigation districts gobbling up the senior water rights. Less-populous Colorado, Wyoming and Utah were forced to watch in increasing dismay as downstream users gained control over larger and larger shares of “their” river.
Upper Basin States vs. Lower Basin circa 1925 via CSU Water Resources Archives
To appease these headwaters states — and to garner their support for huge dams and other water projects on the lower river — the seven Colorado River Basin states hammered out the Colorado River Compact of 1922. It divided the states into an Upper Basin (Colorado, Wyoming, Utah and New Mexico) and a Lower Basin (Arizona, California and Nevada), with the dividing line at Lees Ferry, Arizona. It aimed to share the river’s water equally between them, giving each basin the exclusive use of 7.5 million acre-feet (MAF) of water per year.
Climate change causes turbulence
The compact was far from perfect, but the concept of dividing the water equally generally held up, even if the reality didn’t always follow suit: The Upper Basin states have always used far less than their allotted amount (around 4 MAF), while the Lower Basin for years has consumed far more than its share (as much as 11 million MAF). That wasn’t a problem as long as the river had enough water to go around. But for the last 26 years, it hasn’t.
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
Since around the turn of the century, warming temperatures and abnormally dry years have severely diminished the headwaters states’ snowpack, thereby shrinking the river. The annual “natural flow” at Lees Ferry, or the estimated amount of water the river would hold without any upstream diversions or human consumption, has been about 12 MAF on average since 2000, dropping below 6 MAF in 2002, or just over half of what the Lower Basin alone consumed at the time.
The meager flows simply do not jibe with the numbers in the compact. And that makes it virtually impossible for the Upper Basin to comply with the compact’s “non-depletion clause,” which dictates that the Upper Basin “will not cause the flow of the river at Lee Ferry to be depleted below an aggregate of 75,000,000 acre feet for any period of ten consecutive years.” There are different interpretations of this provision, but it appears to say the Upper Basin states has no option but to allow the water to flow down to California — even if it means they come up short themselves.
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
Glen Canyon Dam and Lake Powell were supposed to make things easier by acting as an Upper Basin savings account that could be drawn from during dry years. But withdrawals have greatly exceeded deposits more often than not in recent decades, leaving Lake Powell at about one-third of its full storage capacity and bringing its surface level critically close to hitting minimum power pool, the point at which water can no longer be released through the hydroelectric turbines.
When this happens — possibly as early as this fall, according to current federal forecasts — the dam will stop generating hydropower for Southwestern utilities. It will also force all releases to go through the outlets lower in the dam, which were not engineered for such sustained use. This would compromise the outlets and possibly the dam itself, and Bureau of Reclamation engineers have strongly warned against it, meaning that minimum power pool becomes the de facto deadpool.
If current climate trends continue, the only way to avoid reaching minimum power pool — aside from re-engineering the dam on a very short timeframe — is either to substantially increase flows into Lake Powell by curtailing Upper Basin water use and draining upstream reservoirs, or else significantly reduce releases from Glen Canyon Dam, forcing the Lower Basin — and the river through the Grand Canyon and its endangered native fish — to take major cuts.
On a day in late May [2022] when wildfire smoke obscured the throat of an ancient volcano called Shiprock in the distance, I visited the Ute Mountain Ute farming and ranching operation in the southwestern corner of Colorado. Photo credit: Allen Best/Big Pivots
The solution is simple; consensus is not
In 2022, the Interior Department told the seven states to broker a plan to balance demand with diminishing supplies by cutting overall consumptive use by 2 million to 4 million acre-feet per year. So far, however, the states have failed to reach consensus.
The Lower Basin states, which have maxed out their allotment and then some, have taken some cuts already and have agreed to accept more, if the Upper Basin agrees to mandatory, verifiable cuts of its own. Meanwhile, the Lower Basin wants to see some version of the non-depletion provision remain in place.
Upper Basin negotiators argue that they haven’t even come close to using all of the water they’re entitled to, and besides, they don’t use nearly as much as the Lower Basin does anyway. So why should they be forced to reduce even more? Furthermore, Upper Basin water users, especially those with junior water rights, are already struggling with drastic reductions during dry years because the region lacks large reservoirs for storing water, meaning their water use is dictated by the rivers’ flows. In 2021, for example, many southwestern Colorado farms had their ditches cut off as early as June, forcing them to sit the season out, while the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe received only about 10% of its allocation.
It’s also simpler logistically to reduce consumption in the Lower Basin, where huge water users are served by a handful of very large diversions, such as the Central Arizona Project canal, which carries water to Phoenix and Tucson; the All-American Canal, which serves the Imperial Irrigation District (and its gigantic alfalfa fields) — the largest single water user on the entire river — and the California Aqueduct, which serves Los Angeles and other cities, all of which are fed by Lake Mead and other reservoirs. The Upper Basin, on the other hand, pulls water from the river and its tributaries via hundreds of much smaller diversions. Achieving meaningful cuts would require shutting off thousands of irrigation ditches to thousands of small water users under uncertain authority.
The Upper Basin negotiators have suggested a “supply driven” plan that would base releases from Lake Powell on the amount of water in the river and the reservoir, thereby honoring the spirit — if not the actual figures — of the Colorado River Compact. While Lower Basin negotiators have expressed interest in the idea, the two sides have yet to agree on details, such as the percentage of flows that would be released or whether a non-depletion minimum-flow requirement would remain in place.
Deadpool doesn’t care about deals or deadlines
In the end, the river basin’s climate and hydrology are likely to decide the issue. As Lake Powell inevitably sinks this summer, the BuRec will probably drain upstream reservoirs — Flaming Gorge, Blue Mesa and Navajo — to delay its decline. But when the reservoir drops to minimum power pool, dam operators must decide whether to release water through the river outlets and hope they don’t fail, or else shift Glen Canyon Dam to a “run-of-the-river” operation, which would keep the reservoir level from falling further by making releases equal to reservoir inflows minus evaporation and seepage. The relatively scant outflows from the dam would cause Lake Mead’s levels to plummet, forcing the Lower Basin states to accept potentially calamitous cuts. The Central Arizona Project, one of the basin’s most junior rights holders, would almost certainly lose some of its water, imperiling all the cities and farms that rely on it.
If the diminished releases were to persist for several months or more, it would likely put the Upper Basin in violation of the non-depletion clause, triggering litigation from downstream users, and throwing the entire watershed back in time to the anxious and combative pre-compact days.
The end of a boat ramp in Antelope Canyon was high above the water of Lake Powell in May 2022, Photo/Allen Best
I used to wonder why folks worried so about Colorado’s water running downstream to California, as if letting it go were some sort of sin. I can understand not wanting to lose the water that originates in your state, but to prefer wasting it or locking it up in reservoirs to sharing it didn’t seem right. After all, every drop that Colorado sends to California and Arizona is another drop that stays in the river for that much longer, benefiting fish and the other critters and boaters that rely on its waters.
I suspect that the most egregious flaw of the Colorado River Compact wasn’t that it overestimated the amount of water in the river, but that it pitted one group of states, tribes and other water users against another, rather than creating a framework in which they could all work together for the benefit of the entire watershed. Maybe it’s time to scrap the compact altogether and, while we’re at it, do away with the whole prior appropriations doctrine on the Colorado River — starting over again from scratch, in other words.
After all, as the climate keeps getting warmer and drier, there will be less and less water to argue about. If there’s nothing left to send downstream, the Colorado River Compact will soon be worth less than the paper it’s printed on.
The Colorado River Compact, signed in 1922. Public domain
EPA asks federal court to pause part of its regulations for PFAS in drinking water.
EPA also says it will uphold Biden-era lead pipe replacement requirements.
DOE once again orders a Michigan coal plant to continue operating.
Congress will hold hearings this week on safe drinking water, water-related legislation, and an Army Corps authorization bill.
U.S. Supreme Court will hold oral arguments this week for the Line 5 oil pipeline case.
EPA seeks comments on ways to reduce regulatory burden for hazardous substance spill response plans.
FEMA continues to be slow in approving disaster declarations in Democratic-led states.
And lastly, the White House promotes domestic phosphorus mining and glyphosate production by conferring “immunity” under the Defense Production Act.
“Consistent with these findings, I find that ensuring robust domestic elemental phosphorus mining and United States-based production of glyphosate-based herbicides is central to American economic and national security. Without immediate Federal action, the United States remains inadequately equipped and vulnerable.” – President Trump’s executive order that grants these activities (phosphorus mining and glyphosate production) immunity from “damages or penalties” for any activity related to the order. The underlying law is the Defense Production Act. Phosphorus and glyphosate are foundational elements of modern American agribusiness. They are in fertilizer and the weedkiller Roundup. But they are also primary water pollutants that contribute to harmful algal blooms or are linked to cancer and other illnesses.
EPA PFAS Lawsuit The EPA is continuing to make its case in court that the agency’s Biden-era regulation of four PFAS in drinking water should be paused while it works on a new regulation that would officially rescind them, Bloomberg Law reports.
Two of the regulated chemicals – PFOA and PFOS – have standard numerical limits. The four others – PFNA, PFHxS, PFBS, and GenX – would also be regulated as a group, using what’s known as a “hazard index.” This is the first time the agency has used such an approach for drinking water regulation.
The court in January rejected the EPA’s request to vacate the hazard index component. The agency now wants to separate the hazard index from the rest of the litigation.
Two water utility groups – the American Water Works Association and Association of Metropolitan Water Agencies – filed the lawsuit in June 2024 in the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit.
In the court filing, the agency says that it has drafted a notice of rulemaking to rescind the hazard index and plans to “commence the rulemaking process imminently.”
Lead Pipe Replacement In a separate lawsuit, the EPA said it would uphold the Biden administration’s 10-year timeline for most cities to replace lead drinking water pipes, the Associated Press reports.
The lawsuit challenging the timeline was also brought by the American Water Works Association, which argued that it was not feasible.
Michigan Coal Plant Operating Order Extended The Department of Energy once again extended the life of a Michigan coal-fired power plant.
This is the fourth 90-day order to keep the J.H. Campbell Generating Plant operating. The DOE argues that closing the plant is a threat to grid reliability. It is also costing Consumers Energy, the plant owner, a lot of money – at least $80 million through last September. The company will likely recover costs through customer rate increases or surcharges.
Consumers intended to shut down the plant in May 2025.
The EPA, at the prompting of regulated facilities, is considering changing federal requirements for hazardous substance spill plans, which are authorized under the Clean Water Act to guide emergency response in case a large volume of toxic chemicals is released into waterways.
The requirements in questions were established in 2024 during the Biden administration and apply to onshore non-transportation facilities – things like chemical manufacturers, oil and gas operators, gas stations, hospitals.
The agency is seeking comment on whether it should simplify the rules for determining which facilities are required to file response plans. Public comments are due March 20 and can be submitted via www.regulations.gov using docket number EPA-HQ-OLEM-2025-1707.
Studies and Reports
Disaster Declarations and Approvals FEMA approved a disaster declaration for Louisiana, which the state requested on February 5 following a late-January storm. And it approved a declaration for a Washington, D.C. sewer line that collapsed on January 19.
The federal disaster agency, meanwhile, has rejected or has been slow to approve requests from Democratic-run states. FEMA has not acted on Washington state’s January 21 request.
Arizona and Illinois are appealing requests from last fall that were rejected. Colorado is appealing two requests from January 16 that were denied.
Chinook Salmon Decision The National Marine Fisheries Service decided against listing the Washington coast segment of Chinook salmon as endangered or threatened, saying the population faces low extinction risk.
This is the result of the agency’s 12-month review, an in-depth assessment of the threats to a species. In response to a petition from the Center for Biological Diversity, the agency had made a preliminary, 90-day decision during the Biden administration that listing the species may be necessary.
Washington coast Chinook salmon spawn north of the Columbia River and west of the Elwha River, a geography that includes the Olympic peninsula.
On the Radar
Line 5 in the U.S. Supreme Court On February 24, the nation’s high court will hear oral arguments in a case involving the controversial Line 5 oil pipeline that crosses the Straits of Mackinac between lakes Huron and Michigan.
The case centers on a jurisdictional matter: should the lawsuit seeking to shut down the 73-year-old pipeline be heard in state or federal court?
Dana Nessel, the Michigan attorney general, filed the case in state court in 2019 alleging that Enbridge’s continued operation of the pipeline violated state law.
Colorado River DEIS Comments Due The Bureau of Reclamation is accepting public comments through March 2 on its draft plan for managing the Colorado River reservoirs after current rules expire at the end of the year.
Also on February 24, a Senate Energy and Natural Resources subcommittee will discuss 18 water-related bills, including rural water supply systems, snow water forecasting, and water recycling.
There are two hearings this week on the next Water Resources Development Act, the legislation that authorizes Army Corps projects for dams, levees, ports, and ecosystem restoration.
The action starts on February 24 with a House Transportation and Infrastructure subcommittee. The head of the Army Corps will testify, as will the chief of engineers.
Then on February 25, the Senate Committee on Environment and Public Works holds its own hearing.
Federal Water Tap is a weekly digest spotting trends in U.S. government water policy. To get more water news, follow Circle of Blue on Twitter and sign up for our newsletter.
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:
February 23, 2026
Key Points
A coalition of cities and water providers, led by the Central Arizona Project, has launched a media campaign targeting proposed Colorado River cuts.
The campaign includes a TV ad that claims Arizona “is being unfairly targeted” by some water management alternatives outlined in a federal document.
After the seven Colorado River states failed to reach an agreement on shortage sharing, the federal government turned to its own set of proposals.
A Central Arizona Project-backed advocacy group called the Coalition for Protecting Arizona’s Lifeline has begun rolling out television ads and online videos defending the water supplier’s rights to a Colorado River that is under serious hydrological and political strain.
“Arizona is being unfairly targeted for reductions of Colorado River water that would cripple our state, flatten our economy and weaken our nation’s defense,” an ad aired by the coalition warns. It goes on to note that Arizona communities have done their part, committing more water for conservation in Lake Mead than those in other states, and that several options that the federal government is weighing for managing the river would fall hardest on the state.
One such alternative under review, CAP General Manager Brenda Burman recently said, would essentially dry up the agency’s canal from the river to Phoenix and Tucson…The alternatives Burman was referring to were never stated as the Trump administration’s preference, but rather as ideas from which the seven states that share the river water might draw from in writing an agreement for sharing in its worsening shortages. Now that the states have failed to reach such an agreement, though, the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation is faced with either enacting something like them or rapidly developing a new federal plan in time to replace river guidelines that expire this autumn…While the materials don’t directly state members’ intended method of securing water, some of the videos lean heavily on the so-called Law of the River and its guarantee of water from the four headwaters states to Arizona, California and Nevada. This theme reiterates a point that CAP and Arizona water officials have stressed over the last year or so, that if push comes to shove in a legal battle, they have the 1922 Colorado River Compact on their side.
“The Lower Basin has paper water, uses wet water, and wants the Upper Basin to deliver ghost water” — Kevin Pilgrim
Water levels were low at Lake Powell’s Wahweep Marina in November 2021. Recent worst-case projections from the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation show the reservoir declining below power pool by July. CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM
The Colorado River crisis is no longer part of some hypothetical future — it’s here.
Fueled by one of the worst snowpacks on record, the “most probable” February projection from the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation estimates 5 million acre-feet flowing into Lake Powell this year, which is 52% of average. A more grim estimate puts that number at just 3.5 million acre-feet, or 37% of average.
Forecasts show the nation’s second-largest reservoir could fall below the minimum level needed to make hydropower at Glen Canyon Dam as soon as July under the worst-case scenario, or by December under the “most probable” forecast. Reservoir levels are projected to fall to their lowest elevation on record in March 2027, threatening the water supply for millions in the Southwest.
But the increasingly dire projections, this winter’s historically bad snowpack and the growing gap between supply and demand haven’t yet pushed the seven states that share the river to come to an agreement on its future management.
Last week, state negotiators blew past a second federally set deadline to find a consensus plan on how to share shortages and manage Lake Powell and Lake Mead after the current guidelines expire at the end of the year. They have been stuck at an impasse for two years.
The need for a new management paradigm that adapts to a shrinking water supply has never been more urgent. So why isn’t the crisis forcing a deal?
“We’re at a moment where we really need something different that responds to our current hydrology, our current demands, and we’re not seeing a development of that kind,” said Elizabeth Koebele, a professor of political science and associate director of the graduate program of hydrologic sciences at the University of Nevada, Reno. “You’d think that all of these signals would be pointing to the fact that we really need to do something different, but we’re not.”
Anne Castle, a former federal representative to the Upper Colorado River Commission and a Colorado River expert, co-authored a paper in 2021 that said successful negotiations of new Colorado River agreements tend to be triggered by very dry conditions, and that federal directives and deadlines also play an important role. But the current stalemate amid worsening drought throws those findings into question.
“Our premise was that a crisis in terms of water supply and reservoir levels and snowpack and expected runoff can prompt creative compromise,” Castle said. “But we have all those underlying conditions, and we don’t have a compromise.”
The scale of the problem could be part of what’s making consensus difficult between the Upper Basin (Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Wyoming) and the Lower Basin (California, Arizona and Nevada). As a junior water user on the river, the Central Arizona Project, which supplies the metro Phoenix and Tucson areas, could face the deepest cuts.
“I think if this had been a 2 million-acre-foot problem, the states probably could have solved it, but it’s potentially a 4 million-acre-foot problem,” said Kathryn Sorensen, a researcher and professor at Arizona State University’s Kyl Center for Water Policy. “There’s so little water to go around that positions have become hardened as a result. We’re not just talking about inconvenient cuts; we’re talking about severe pain to economies at this point.”
Federal involvement
Some of the normal levers that have been pulled to force action in the past — such as directives and deadlines from the federal government — don’t seem to be effective in the current situation. There have been no apparent consequences for the states missing both the Feb. 14 deadline and an initial Nov. 11 deadline set by the feds for the states to present the outline of an agreement.
The seven state negotiators and their governors were summoned to Washington, D.C., the last week of January for a meeting with Department of Interior officials. That, too, failed to result in a deal.
In a Feb. 14 news release, Interior Secretary Doug Burgum thanked the governors for their engagement and said a fair compromise with shared responsibility remains within reach.
Koebele said when the states were hashing out the 2007 guidelines, which currently govern the river and are just months from expiring, the threat of federal action was part of what spurred the states to come up with a plan.
“There’s a little bit less of this idea of a single or central federal leader in the negotiation process,” Koebele said. “And they’re also still saying, ‘Hey, states, please come up with your own option too.’ I’m not really sure how credible threats are from the federal government when we’re in this sort of context.”
Reclamation has presented five options for managing the river, but although the federal government owns and operates the infrastructure such as dams and reservoirs, it doesn’t have the authority to implement all of the actions outlined in the options. The new, innovative and collaborative actions would need an agreement among the states.
Absent that, federal officials believe the only tools at their disposal, which allocate cuts based on prior appropriation and existing water law, could see Arizona take up to 77% of total shortages, yet they “may not provide adequate protection of critical infrastructure or the system and may be viable only in the short term given current reservoir conditions,” according the bureau.
The federal management options are part of a draft environmental impact statement, which is required as part of the National Environmental Policy Act review for new guidelines. This process is moving forward on a separate, parallel track to negotiations among the states. If the states agree on a plan, it could be plugged into the EIS and become the “preferred alternative.”
“We’re sort of at a key moment for those two processes coming together,” Koebele said. “But the EIS and the state negotiations are not really intersecting in a way that we have seen them intersect in the past or that we hoped they would.”
Federal officials are accepting comments on the draft EIS until March 2.
Lake Pleasant, seen in April 2025, is a storage bucket for Colorado River water and is part of the Central Arizona Project that delivers water to the Phoenix and Tucson areas. According to one river management option from the federal government, Arizona would take the majority of shortages in dry years. CREDIT: HEATHER SACKETT/ASPEN JOURNALISM
Blame to go around
In a series of news releases on February 13, 2026Upper Basin and Lower Basin officials blamed each other for the continuing standoff.
“We’re being asked to solve a problem we didn’t create with water we don’t have,” Colorado’s representative, Becky Mitchell, said in a prepared statement. “The Upper Division’s approach is aligned with hydrologic reality, and we’re ready to move forward.”
The crux of the issue is who should take shortages in drought years. The Lower Basin has committed to 1.5 million acre-feet of reductions annually and wants cuts beyond that to be shared by the Upper Basin. The Upper Basin says their water users already take cuts in some years because streams run dry by midsummer and any contributions they make through conservation must be voluntary.
Water managers upstream of Lee’s Ferry would note that they were promised an equal amount of water as the Lower Basin was in the 1922 Colorado River Compact, although they use about 4 million acre-feet a year, while the Lower Basin — whose flows are backed up by releases from the country’s two largest reservoirs — regularly uses all of the annual 7.5 million acre-feet to which it’s entitled. The Lower Basin’s position points to its larger population and economic output, and that their water users, already subject to mandatory cutbacks, tend to be more aggressive in their conservation measures.
“It’s the fundamental disagreement that we’ve had for the past many years,” Castle said. “The Upper Basin doesn’t want to agree to any enforceable reductions in use. And that is something that the Lower Basin, and Arizona in particular, don’t feel like they can live with.”
The states appeared to be on the verge of a breakthrough last summer, when representatives from both basins indicated a willingness to consider a supply-driven approach, where reservoir releases are more directly tied to the natural flow of the river. But hashing out the details is complicated, and a plan that all parties can agree to has yet to emerge.
Note the dotted red line. If says that it’s possible that power production at Glen Canyon Dam could end by August.
A new management plan would need to be in place by the start of the new water year on Oct. 1. And if the states can’t reach an agreement by then, the federal government will impose its own management rules, doling out cutbacks that could trigger lawsuits from the states but would not go far enough to prevent the system from crashing.
Even if the states come to an eleventh-hour agreement, federal action will be needed in the immediate future to protect levels at Lake Powell and the ability to produce hydropower. The dire projections showing Powell dropping below minimum power pool assume that the feds would release 7.48 million acre-feet from Powell this year, but under a short-term agreement that also expires at the end of the year, they could reduce releases down to as little as 6 million acre-feet. The Bureau of Reclamation is also holding back about 600,000 acre-feet in Lake Powell through April, which will be released later in the year.
The last time Lake Powell was projected to drop below system-critical thresholds after the 2021 spring runoff, Reclamation conducted emergency releases from upstream reservoirs. The chance that the bureau will again release additional water from those federally controlled reservoirs — Flaming Gorge, Blue Mesa and Navajo — to boost Powell in the coming months is “about 100%,” according to Colorado River expert and author Eric Kuhn.
“Just how much is going to be up in the air, but right now, it looks like they need a million to a million-and-a-half acre-feet based on the current projections,” Kuhn said.
John Fleck, an author, writer and University of New Mexico professor, was the co-author with Castle on the 2021 paper, titled “Green Light for Adaptive Policies on the Colorado River.” He said that in previous negotiations, state representatives not only had a sense of responsibility to protect water for their own communities, but were also looking out for the health of the entire interconnected basin.
“What we have seen in the last few years is a shift to a leadership that is made up of people who are solely looking out for the interests of their own community,” Fleck said.
Experts say the Colorado River needs a new and different management plan that responds to dwindling flows, rebuilds reservoir storage and creates a resilient system in the face of climate change. The current leadership is failing to provide that, Fleck said. The solution is a shift in mindset for water managers to start playing not for the Upper Basin or Lower Basin, but for Team Colorado River Basin, he said.
“There’s a moral question involving the obligations we have to one another in shared river basins,” Fleck said. “I would not be at all happy to win the litigation and see the Central Arizona Project shut down. I would see that as a failure even though my community’s water supply might be protected.”
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
Dark Skies Over Bears Ears, Valley of the Gods, Utah, This photo was taken late at night in the middle of the desert. Over the Fourth of July, I traveled to Southeast Utah to interview people and take some final light readings in Blanding and Monticello Utah while working for the State of the Rockies Project Dark Skies Team. The whole summer I had been trying to get a reading within the “no visible light” range. This night I was able to do so. It was so dark that my light meter didn’t even work, but once I switched out my lens to a fisheye, the whole sky appeared on my camera in front of me. For me, this image represents something I had been looking for all summer. I had heard people speak about the sky in Bears Ears and why it was so worth protecting, but to see the stars for myself was something else entirely. Photo by Megan O’Brien, ’25
Mountain West Voters Show Growing Concerns Over PublicLand Protections Heading into 2026 Elections
State of the Rockies Project survey shows tension over direction of land management andenergy priorities, and desire for conservation of scarce water resources and public lands.
COLORADO SPRINGS—Results from Colorado College’s 16th annual State of the Rockies Project Conservation in the West Poll released today show widespread concern among Western voters about rollbacks of protections for land, water, and wildlife and cuts to funding for public land management.
The poll, which surveyed voters in eight Mountain West states—Arizona, Colorado, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming—found that Western voters across party lines are prioritizing conservation, recreation, and renewables over fossil fuel development heading into this year’s midterm elections.
Highlights from the Poll
84% of Western voters say that the rollback of laws that protect our land, water, andwildlife is a serious problem, a sharp increase from prior years.
85% of respondents say issues involving public lands, waters, and wildlife are important in deciding whether to support a public official.
86% of Western voters deem funding cuts to public lands a serious problem, including 76% of Republicans.
70% of respondentsoppose fast-tracking oil, gas and mining projects on national public lands by reducing environmental reviews and local public input.
72% of Westerners prefer expanding renewable energy over drilling and mining for more fossil fuels.
76% of Western voters—more Western voters than ever before—say they would prefer their member of Congress to place more emphasis on conservation and recreationon public lands over maximizing energy production.
74% of Western voters oppose selling some national public lands for oil and gas development.
91% of Western voters say existing national monument designations should be kept in place.
As policymakers look ahead to the upcoming midterm elections, 85% of voters in MountainWest states say issues involving public lands, waters, and wildlife are important indeciding whether to support a candidate.
“At a time of growing pressure on land and water in the West, the call to action from voters is clear and bipartisan: Westerners want funding and stewardship for public lands and natural resources, ” said Ian Johnson, Director of Strategic Initiatives & Sustainabilityat ColoradoCollege.
Voters want to prioritize renewable energy sources. When asked to prioritize energy sources, voters across party lines selected solar as their top choice, while coal was the least desired, with only 7% of respondents listing coal as a first or second priority.
Funding cuts to public land management have proven unpopular with Western voters. Recent funding cuts have reduced the number of firefighters, park rangers, scientists, and other employees working to protect public lands, water, and wildlife over the last year. These cuts to public land management have 86% of voters across party lines concerned, including 75% of MAGA supporters.
Western voters also oppose the sale of public lands and the elimination of public landprotections. Even with rising housing costs, 76% of Western voters oppose selling public lands for housing. Additionally, 74% of Western voters oppose selling public lands to private companies for oil, gas, and mining development.
Scarce water resources continue to be a concern for Westerners, particularly in states that have experienced droughts. Westerners consider scarce water resources a serious problem, with 87% of Western voters concerned about inadequate water supplies. Accordingly, 83% of voters in states along the Colorado River or its tributaries would support an agreement requiring all states to reduce their use of the Colorado River to preserve its health. This emphasis on water protection is particularly salient, as 80% of Westerners say data centers are a threat to water quality and supply in the West.
This is the sixteenth consecutive year Colorado College gauged the public’s sentiment on public lands and conservation issues. The 2026 Colorado College Conservation in the West Poll is a bipartisan survey conducted by Republican pollster Lori Weigel of New Bridge Strategy and Democratic pollster Miranda Everitt of Fairbank, Maslin, Maullin, Metz & Associates. The survey is funded by the William and Flora Hewlett Foundation.
The poll surveyed at least 400 registered voters in each of eight Western states (AZ, CO, ID, MT, NV, NM, UT, & WY) for a total 3,419-voter sample, which included an over-sample of Black and Native American voters. The survey was conducted between January 2-18, 2026 and the effective margin of error is +2.4% at the 95% confidence interval for the total sample; and at most +4.9% for each state. The full survey and individual state surveys are available on the State of the Rockies Project website.
About Colorado College
Colorado College is a nationally prominent four-year liberal arts college that was founded in Colorado Springs in 1874. The College operates on the innovative Block Plan, in which its 2,200 undergraduate students study one course at a time in intensive three and a half-week segments. For the past eighteen years, the college has sponsored the State of the Rockies Project, which encourages students to conduct interdisciplinary investigations around the region to build on and deepen what we know about the challenges we face living in the Rocky Mountain West, and what to do about them.
About Fairbank, Maslin, Maullin, Metz & Associates
Fairbank, Maslin, Maullin, Metz & Associates (FM3)—a national Democratic opinion research firm with offices in Oakland, Los Angeles and Portland, Oregon—has specialized in public policy oriented opinion research since 1981. The firm has assisted hundreds of political campaigns at every level of the ballot—from President to City Council—with opinion research and strategic guidance. FM3 also provides research and strategic consulting to public agencies, businesses and public interest organizations nationwide.
About New Bridge Strategy
New Bridge Strategy is a Colorado-based, woman-owned and operated opinion research company specializing in public policy and campaign research. As a Republican polling firm that has led the research for hundreds of successful political and public affairs campaigns, New Bridge has helped coalitions bridging the political spectrum in crafting winning ballot measure campaigns, public education campaigns, and legislative policy efforts.
About Hispanic Access Foundation
Hispanic Access Foundation, a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization, connects Latinos with partners and opportunities to improve lives and create an equitable society. Our vision is that one day every Hispanic individual in America will enjoy good physical health and a healthy natural environment, a quality education, economic success, and civic engagement in their communities with the sum of improving the future of America. For more information visit http://www.hispanicaccess.org.
Glen Canyon downstream from Glen Canyon Dam. Photo credit: Allen Best/Big Pivots
Click the link to read the article on the Big Pivots website (Allen Best):
February 17, 2026
Sitting in the audience at the Colorado Water Congress in January, I was reminded of the days, weeks and months after 9/11. The impulse –– fueled by rage, was to punch back — at somebody, somewhere. The result, as we saw in Afghanistan after 20 years and three presidents, was far from satisfying. Osama bin Laden died, but the Taliban prevailed.
At the conference, a new state legislator from the Western Slope was full of righteous indignation about the Colorado River dispute. Colorado and other upper basin states were right, and those in the lower basin were wrong. We will prevail in court, he insisted. That would be the Supreme Court, where all disputes among states must go. And Colorado, legislators had been told, is preparing for just that possibility.
Much is at stake here. It’s not just ranches on the Western Slope but nearly all the water rights allocated since 1922. Roughly half of water for Front Range cities comes from the Colorado River headwaters and for towns on the eastern plains as far east as Fort Morgan. The mountains towns at the Colorado River headwaters, most of their water rights are post-1922. The list goes on and one.
No wonder Colorado has its fur up.
Speaking later in the morning, Jim Lochhead, a figure prominent in Colorado water affairs since the 1970s, did not disagree with Colorado’s fundamental position.
Colorado insists that Arizona and California, especially, have caused the big reservoirs, Powell and Mead, to decline. The states — together, with Nevada, they constitute the lower basin — have reduced their water use substantially since 2002 — but not in proportion to the declines caused by warming temperatures and declining snowfall. The lower-basin states created the problem of the reservoirs now at perilously low levels. They bear the heaviest burden of refilling reservoirs by simply agreeing to take less water.
Lochhead also warned of inflexibility. “The upper basin cannot bail out the lower basin,” he said. “But (negotiators) have to be given room to compromise.”
“If the negotiators are forced to focus only on protecting what each of them thinks is legally theirs on paper, they can’t work on identifying and building the tools and strategies needed to make sure we can get away from crisis management and secure our future,” he said that January morning in Aurora.
Upper-basin states say that because they are at the headwaters, they have nothing equivalent to Powell and Mead upstream to provide certainty. If it rains and snows, there is water. If not, then water users have less or none. Colorado water officials say some with water rights dating to the 1880s have already had to go without.
My kids and their friends built a small terrain park in front of their house near Sloans Lake after the March 2003 St. Patrick’s Day blizzard.
The year 2002 was seminal. Modest snowfall was followed by an early and unusually warm spring. Peak runoff was barely noticeable. In Denver, a city that gets half its water from the Colorado River headwaters, sprinklers were turned off, green grass turned brown. Aurora, also heavily dependent upon Colorado River water, was within a few months of crisis in 2003 when a miracle occurred –– three feet of snow on St. Patrick’s Day.
Downstream in Arizona and California, far from this drama in the headwaters, life continued with no fear and little change. The upstream reservoirs, Powell and Mead, had water.
We have another dry year, and the Colorado River right now is expected to deliver less than the 3.8 million acre-feet at Lee Ferry, just below Glen Canyon Dam, than it did in 2002. Flows were 17 to 18 million acre-feet in the 1920s, when the Colorado River Compact was created and adopted. The long-term average was less, 14.6 to 15.1 million acre-feet. In this century, it has dipped to 12.1 to 12.5 million acre-feet. Some expect this trend to continue amid the warming and drying now underway in the basin. Might it go below 10 in a few more decades?
The lower basin until relatively recently used 10 to 11 million acre-feet. As for the upper basin, states — Wyoming, Utah and New Mexico, in addition to Colorado —they have used 3.5 to 4.5 million acre-feet. It depends upon whether it snows.
The end of a boat ramp in Antelope Canyon was high above the water of Lake Powell in May 2022, and water levels have dropped more now. Photo/Allen Best
“Everyone knows Lake Powell is now in a dire situation,” said Lochhead in a panel after the state legislators had left. “We have gone from 86% full to I think around 25% full today. Powell is in danger of being over a million acre-feet below deadpool next year. That should scare all of us.”
Deadpool is when the water level in a dam-created reservoir drops so low that water cannot be released and used for drinking, irrigation and power. In the last several years, at least one book, Zak Podmore’s Life After Dead Pool, has been written about the Colorado River with that threshold in mind. Other books and thousands and thousands of newspaper, magazine and website postings have mentioned it.
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
Lochhead warned against hardened positions that put the Colorado River problems in front of the Supreme Court. Colorado has not fared well in water cases there the last 100-plus years.
For several decades, Lochhead was a water attorney for Holland and Hart, working from an office across from the post office in Glenwood Springs. It was a good place to raise a family of skiers, he once told this writer.
During that time on the Western Slope, Lochhead represented Colorado on Colorado River affairs in several capacities. Then, from 2010 until 2023, he was CEO of Denver Water, the state’s largest water utility. In the last few years, his life has been lower profile. But, as his remarks at the Water Congress demonstrated, he is still paying close attention.
Litigation in the Colorado River Basin, said Lochhead, is a “worst-case scenario, resulting in economic and political disruption and uncertainty no matter the outcome.” This message, he said, would be the same whether given to audiences in Arizona or Colorado.
“There are tens of millions of dollars of taxpayer dollars that will be spent on litigation over a 10- or 20-year period, and the outcomes will be uncertain. The upper basin has a lot of good arguments, and so does the lower basin.”
Colorado appeared before the Supreme Court in 1907. It claimed full use of the Arkansas River. The Supreme Court disagreed.
Delphus Carpenter. Picture courtesy Colorado State University library
In 1922, Colorado lost to Wyoming in a case involving the North Platte River. Colorado has insisted upon prerogatives because it was the source of the water. That defeat caused Colorado’s lead negotiator, Delph Carpenter, to conclude it must shelve the idea that being at the headwaters would trump the claims of downstream states on the Colorado River. Carpenter became the most important figure in crafting the Colorado River Compact of 1922.
“But of course, litigation under the compacts continued, and Colorado was ordered to pay some $34 million to Kansas in 2001 and to dry up Bonnie Reservoir and undertake the process of drying up 25,000 acres of farmland in the Republican River Basin,” Lochhead continued.
The headwaters of Whiskey Creek, between Minturn and Avon, in the Eagle River Valley, had plentiful snow in the mid-1990s. Photo/Allen Best
Lochhead described several layers of complexities.
“This isn’t litigation just between two or three states. This is litigation between four states that have a common obligation under the compact (the Upper Basin) versus three other states requiring coordination on strategy, negotiating remedies and settlement between the states,” he said.
Nor is it simple a matter of the two basins, upper and lower, in conflict. The 30 federally recognized tribes in the Colorado River Basin have their interests, and they are not all the same. They also have rights that in most cases supersede those of the states. Public interest groups can have different interests. And, if the federal government makes the decisions about future uses of the Colorado, each and all may “sue the federal government over any unilateral federal action or decision, and that litigation can take all kinds of different forms.”
“Other entities may seek to intervene in the litigation. The United States certainly would, as we have seen in Texas versus New Mexico. But when tribes seek to intervene, if the country of Mexico seeks to intervene — what happens during litigation?”
Mexico, under a 1944 compact, is to get 1.5 million acre-feet annually.
Plus, the three other upper-basin states may disagree with Colorado. Colorado uses by far the most water of the four, as a compact among them reached in 1948 specified. Alone, though, it has pushed that limit.
In other words, going to water war sounds vaguely patriotic. The reality of the courtroom may be less heart-thumping.
Boulder has very good water rights but depends somewhat on imported Colorado River water. Photo/teofilo and Wikimedia Commons
Consider what if Colorado did lose? Here’s where the story gets grim. The Front Range cities, the ski towns, even farmers in the South Platte and Arkansas valleys to the Nebraska and Kansas borders.
Lochhead described the stakes involved, the gamble of letting the black-robed justices in D.C. decide the fates of the seven base states. “Do we find ways to work together across the basin to address the crisis together?”
He asked that question more than two weeks before Valentine’s Day, the deadline set by the Bureau of Reclamation without obvious irony. Without agreement by the seven states about how to share the diminished river, it is now up to the federal government to step in. On Friday, after the states had reported still no break-through, I asked Lochhead by e-mail if his remarks from January were still appropriate. They were, he said.
“It seems as I write this, that — as for the last two years — the states remain stuck in political talking points and the federal government is not applying necessary pressure. And, in the meantime, Lake Powell is headed toward run-of-the-river operations, which precipitates crises on all kinds of different levels,” he replied. “This will lead to the federal government having to make decisions that will severely impact both upper and lower basin economies and the environment, not to mention endless, expensive and risky litigation. This all could have been avoided but here we are.”
“Wow!” said Eric Kuhn, a former general manager of the Colorado River District in Glenwood Springs, in a LinkedIn post over the weekend. “The secretary (of Interior) needs to step up and make some hard decisions!”
Sparking Kuhn’s remarks was a new Bureau of Reclamation report on Friday of probable flows in the next two years. The best of them leaves Powell in bad shape. In fact, the bureau’s “probable” flows have frequently been too optimistic. The dimmer view, called “probable minimum,” sees Powell levels dropping below the elevation needed to produce hydropower as early as August. Minimum power pool is above deadpool.
Note the dotted red line. If says that it’s possible that power production at Glen Canyon Dam could end by August.
From a Colorado perspective, lower-basin states have a sense of entitlement that defies common sense. Whether it defies the law is another matter. Kuhn told me years ago that the key provision in the 1922 compact that can be interpreted in two very different ways.
It says: “The States of the Upper Division will note cause the flow of the river at Lee Ferry to be depleted below an aggregate of 75,000,000 acre feet for any period of ten consecutive years…”
But as to that disagreement: Upper-basin states see this meaning that they have no control over the weather. They did not cause the reduced flows. Hang the weather, says the lower-basin state. The “do not cause” clause means that if only 7.5 million acre-feet is all that is in the river, it all has to flow downstream.
Typo or not, the lower-basin perspective sees this as a cut-and-dried issue. If Denver must go without transmountain diversions or taps in Winter Park or Vail must go dry, so be it. Not their problem.
JB Hamby, California’s representative on Colorado River affairs, articulated exactly that sentiment on Friday. “The 1922 Colorado River Compact requires the Upper Basin to deliver an average of 8.25 million acre-feet annually to the Lower Basin and Mexico,” he said in a statement. “That delivery obligation is fixed in law, even when the river produces less water.”
At the January forum, Amy Ostdiek, who heads the legal team for the Colorado Water Conservation Board in interstate and federal matters, laid out the basic numbers Colorado puts front and center: The 1922 compact laid out a split of roughly 7.5 million acre-feet for each, the lower and upper basins, with the upper basin required to allow another one million acre-feet to flow down river to account for evaporation and losses.
“We have to be honest about what has caused the threat that Lake Powell might not be able to make the releases that the lower-basin states believe they are entitled to. It was directly caused by their overuse of Lake Mead, which drew down Lake Powell to the point it is today,” said Ostdiek.
Again, the upper-basin states insist upon lower-basin states sharing the uncertainty of snow and rain. To rebuild the storages will mean they take less water.
“This is going to be hard for those who are not accustomed to taking less in dry years, but the benefit of reaching a state-state deal is that if we’re able to do that, it provides an opportunity or a gradual and softer landing — and more likely federal dollars for those who need that support as they adapt to this reality.”
The upper basin, though, refuses to budge on the idea that it can develop all 7.5 million acre-feet of water apportioned it by the compact — if the water is there, of course.
In their January remarks, neither Lochhead nor Ostdiek offered thoughts about on-the-ground solutions. Ostdiek pointed to programs in both the upper and lower basin with varying success. In their defense, they only had an hour.
Can the lower-basin negotiators truly misunderstand Colorado’s position? Ken Neubecker, of Glenwood Springs, formerly of environmental groups, thinks so.
“They have been accustomed, some would say addicted, to the reliable delivery of stored water for all their needs since Hoover Dam was built and began releasing stored water some 90 years ago,” he wrote in a post on Substack. “Only until very recently, even in the face of an unrelenting drought, have they had to deal with shortages. For the Upper Basin, shortage is an annual reality.”
Arizona Navy photo via California State University
Rod Proffitt, from Pagosa Springs, (and a board member for Big Pivots) points to Arizona’s history of going to courts to resolve river issues. “They even sent out the National Guard one time” (in a dispute with California),” he observed. And now Arizona, more than any other state, has its back to the wall.
Phoenix had native water, but expansive growth, among the fastest in the nation, has been enabled by imported Colorado River water since the 1990s. Photo/Allen Best
Most instructive, at least as understanding Arizona, may be George Packer’s 25,000-word piece, “What Will Become of American Civilization,” in the July/August 2024 issue of The Atlantic. During the prior year, Packer had spent several weeks or more, winter and summer, primarily in the Phoenix metropolitan region, to analyze its politics and people.
Most perplexing, he found, was the perfervid belief in population and commercial expansion that defies limitations of a climate where a simple fall onto concrete during summer can produce second-degree burns.
Colorado, of course, has its own love of economic expansion. It is dwarfed by Arizona. The latter grew 824% in population from 1950 to 2016 while Colorado grew 318%.
Water is crucial to these expansions, and Arizona has tried to disregard limits. Packer explicitly uses “water” 158 times in his report and implicitly so elsewhere. He started out with a description of the Hohokam Indians and their water infrastructure that can still be seen in Phoenix. He barely mentioned climate change but did use “heat” 32 times. He talks about water for data centers and the suburban sprawl.
“Phoenix makes you keenly aware of human artifice—its ingenuity and its fragility,” he says.
We’ve seen the ingenuity of water delivery systems in the broader Colorado River Basin, a region that extends from Colorado’s borders with Nebraska and Kansas to the Pacific Ocean. We now understand the fragility, and it makes us very, very uncomfortable.
Anything that forces change can bring out our worst, but then sometimes it can bring out our best. Can it get any worse on the Colorado River?
And also:
The five alternatives
The Bureau of Reclamation issued five alternatives in its draft environmental impact statement for how it will operate Glen Canyon Dam. The federal government, said Lochhead, can only implement two of them.
The first two, said Lochhead, are deeply flawed: No action and the second would impose shortages on Arizona and Nevada approaching 7 million acre-feet. Both alternatives would almost certainly be challenged in court. Both would quickly result in Powell reaching deadpool with compact litigation and unspecified federal actions in the upper basin to protect Powell.
The three other alternatives contain the essential elements of an agreement among the states, he said, including up to four million acre-feet of shortages in the lower base, but not by priority, and leaving pools in the two big reservoirs for conserved water by both upper and lower basins.
“Not surprising, the alternatives with the highest shortages in the two basins and the greatest flexibility perform the best again potential hydrology that illustrates the magnitude of the problem we’re in, and the actions required by both upper and lower basins to address it,” he said. For any of this to work, he added, “we need long-term funding to mitigate the impacts and build resilience in both basins.
A brief recent history:
Lochhead also sketched a brief history of agreements during recent decades on the Colorado River. His excerpted comments follow:
This slide shows the combined contents of lakes Powell and Mead for the last 25 years juxtaposed against some of the key events and agreements that have occurred during that 25-year period.
Despite the best efforts of the states, reservoir levels have continued to decline over time. The states, though, have made important agreements and have significantly reduced uses in response to changing conditions on the river. But clearly, much more needs to be done.
Starting in the early 1990s we had 10 years of negotiations that led to Federal Surplus Guidelines in 2001. You can see, at the beginning of this century, the reservoirs were virtually full, and we were arguing about surpluses.
Those guidelines also contained a deadline for California to finalize and implement the Quantification Settlement Agreement among California agencies to define priorities and implement ag-urban transfers necessary to get California’s water use from 5.3 million acre-feet a year down to 4.4 million acre-feet a year. The negotiations were driven by the direct involvement and pressure from Secretary (Bruce) Babbitt and his team at the Department Interior. That’s a theme — federal pressure being necessary to agreements of the Basin States over the last 25 years.
The California agencies had to come together and agree on how they were going to reduce their use by 800,000 acre-feet. They couldn’t reach agreement, and so Interior imposed limitations on water use in the Imperial Valley, prompting litigation that was eventually settled in 2003.
Lochhead credited Interior Secretary Gayle Norton and Bennet Raley, the assistant secretary for water, for pushing California to this agreement. Both, incidentally, were Colorado natives, Norton from Denver’s northern suburbs and Raley from southwest Colorado. Upon Raleys’ departure from the Interior in 2004, the Los Angeles Times had this to say:
“Raley may be remembered best as the folksy but firm bureaucrat who finally made good on the federal government’s long-standing threat to put California on a water diet. He did it by forcing the state to agree to stop using more than its share of the Colorado River, freeing up water for other Western states.”
Despite the arguments about surplus waters in the 1990s, some observers could see troubles ahead of a river overcommitted. Troubles arrived in a big way with the water-poor year of 2002 — a runoff that may turn out better than this year’s.
Lochhead recalled that the upper-basin states, wanting to maintain storage in Lake Powell, asked the Interior Department — the operator of the dam — to release less than 8.23 million acre-feet from the reservoir. Lower-basin states, primarily Arizona, resisted. Difficult meetings ensued, litigation was threatened, legal war chests were readied — then Norton interceded, issuing a deadline by the end of 2007 for an agreement about lower basin shortage guidelines and operational guidelines for releases of water from Powell and Mead.
The states met that deadline — unlike those of the last year — and the guidelines helped. But, said Lochhead, they have proven, over time, to be inadequate. It seemed like every year we were one foot over or under, those triggers that caused distrust and accusations between the upper and lower basins of gaming the system.
Meanwhile, the river produced less than anybody had expected. The states agreed to additional interim measures, and they, too, proved inadequate.
In 2019, the states agreed to a drought contingency plan and drought response agreement, more interim measures designed to protect the system’s major reservoirs from falling to critically low levels. The lower-basin states agreed to plan that added an extra layer of protection. The goal was to maintain a half million acre-feet of water in Lake Mead.
Declines in lower basin
Lochhead showed a chart of water use in the lower basin but with caveats. It did not include the tributaries, including the Gila River —- a conversation unto itself. Nor does it show reservoir evaporations and losses, which add up to about 1.5 million acre-feet annually, what is often called the structural deficit.
The blue line at the top showed a significant reduction in use starting in 2001, then a fairly steady use of about 7.5 million acre-feet until about 2017, when withdrawals begin to drop due to shortages.
Uneven use in upper basin
The next slide showed the variations of use by the upper-basin states. The chart shows ups and downs, which can be attributed to wetter and dryer cycles. Overall, though, water use in the upper-basin states has remained fairly constant. Those uses, he added, do not include reservoir evaporation — because those losses are explicitly included in upper-basin consumptive use.
“Part of the argument, part of the confusion, comes from these different accounting methodologies in the upper and lower basins,” he said.
The upper basin has made a couple of arguments. One is that the upper basin has the right to develop more water, up to 7.5 million acre-feet, but also that hydrology is the limiting factor. Users suffer shortages every year. I’m not sure you can have both.”
Again, hydrology is the limiting factor.
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
The Bureau of Reclamation’s latest forecast for the Colorado River predicts Lake Powell will “most probably” drop below the critical minimum power pool level before the end of this year, jeopardizing Glen Canyon Dam’s structural integrity. In the worst-case scenario, it would do so before summer’s end. This could force the feds to operate the dam as a “run-of-the-river” operation to preserve the dam’s infrastructure and hydropower output, which would significantly diminish downstream flows and threaten Lower Basin water supplies.
Lake Powell could receive only half the normal amount of water from upstream rivers and streams this year, according to a recent federal study.
The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation releases a monthly study that forecasts good, bad and most likely storage conditions for the Colorado River Basin’s key reservoirs over the next two years. The February forecast expects about 52%, or about 5 million acre-feet, of the normal amount of water to flow into Lake Powell by September. The more grim outlook says Powell’s inflows could be 3.52 million acre-feet or 37% of the average from 1991 to 2020.
It’s enough to spike concerns about hydropower generation at Glen Canyon Dam — which controls releases from Powell — prompt discussions about emergency releases from upstream reservoirs and trigger federal actions to slow the pace of water out of the reservoir.
“I think they’re going to be nervous about operating the turbines,” said Eric Kuhn, former general manager for the Colorado River Water Conservation District.
In January, about 79% of the 30-year average flowed into Lake Powell — which is on the Utah-Arizona border — from upstream areas of Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Wyoming, according to the federal February 24-month study, released Friday.
The February projections also showed even less water flowing into Lake Powell, a decline of about 1.5 million acre-feet since January.
The Colorado River Basin, which provides water to 40 million people, has been plagued by a 25-year drought that drained its main reservoirs — the largest in the nation — to historic lows amid unyielding human demands.
And that stress is going to continue. The most probable forecast shows nothing but below-average flows in February — 71% of the 30-year average — and for April through July, when flows are likely to be 38% of the norm.
Feds take action to boost Powell
Upstream states like Colorado do not get a drop of water from Lake Powell, Kuhn said. Coloradans rely mostly on local reservoirs to help pace the spring runoff and support year-round water use.
But the reservoir’s status can impact whether upstream reservoirs, like Flaming Gorge in Wyoming and Blue Mesa in Colorado, will have to make emergency releases to elevate water levels in Lake Powell.
In response to the dry and warm winter, the federal government is trying to keep the water in the reservoir above certain critical water levels, according to the study.
At 3,490 feet in elevation, Glen Canyon Dam can no longer send Powell’s water through its penstocks and turbines to generate hydroelectric power — that would remove a cheap, renewable and reliable power source for communities across the West.
Lake Powell is projected to drop below the critical elevation by December, or as soon as August in one scenario, according to the 24-month study.
Federal officials are likely to call for emergency water releases from upstream reservoirs to keep Powell’s water level from falling to that point. They’re working to maintain a cushion by keeping Powell’s water level above 3,525 feet, or at the very least 3,500 feet in elevation, according to the study.
Lake Powell’s elevation was just over 3,532 feet as of Monday, but it’s expected to drop to 3,497 feet by Sept. 30 under the most likely forecast. (The minimum forecast puts it closer to 3,469 feet.)
Putting himself in the Bureau of Reclamation’s shoes, Kuhn would be looking upstream to fill that gap.
“Where do they plan for it?” he said. “I would be looking to get a lot of water if I’m going to keep Lake Powell above 3,500. … 3,525 may not be possible. There just may not be enough water in the system.”
Facing new lows
That is partly because the Bureau of Reclamation is required by a 2007 agreement, which expires this fall, to release certain amounts of water each year based on reservoir elevations. Replacing these rules is the focus of ongoing high-stakes — and deadlocked — negotiations among states.
Powell’s releases are expected to be 7.48 million acre-feet between Oct. 1, 2025, and Sept. 30, according to the February 24-month study.
To try to keep reservoir levels up, the Bureau of Reclamation has adjusted its normal releases since December to keep about 600,000 acre-feet of water in the reservoir. That water will eventually be released downstream as required by the 2007 rules.
Federal officials could also release less than 7.48 million acre-feet this year to keep more water in Lake Powell, according to the study. A 2024 short-term agreement allows the officials to release as little as 6 million acre-feet of water this year to avoid Lake Powell falling below 3,500 feet.
Lake Powell’s lowest release was about 2.43 million acre-feet in 1964, when the reservoir was first being filled. Since 2000, when the basin dipped into the ongoing 25-year drought, Powell’s average annual release has been 8.69 million acre-feet, according to The Sun’s analysis of water release data.
“I don’t think they’re going to release 7.48 this year. I think they have to cut the flow down to 7 (million acre-feet) or even below,” Kuhn said.
The Bureau of Reclamation’s latest forecast for the Colorado River predicts Lake Powell will “most probably” drop below the critical minimum power pool level before the end of this year, jeopardizing Glen Canyon Dam’s structural integrity. In the worst-case scenario, it would do so before summer’s end. This could force the feds to operate the dam as a “run-of-the-river” operation to preserve the dam’s infrastructure and hydropower output, which would significantly diminish downstream flows and threaten Lower Basin water supplies.
Valentines Day wasn’t so lovey-dovey on the Colorado River.
First, the Bureau of Reclamation (BoR) released a grimmer-than-ever spring runoff forecast for the Colorado River and its two big reservoirs. Then the seven Colorado River Basin states announced that they once again had failed to reach an agreement on a plan to bring demand into line with diminishing supplies by the Feb. 14 deadline. While the states have blown by other deadlines since negotiations began in 2022, this time was different in that it triggered the federal government to move forward to impose a post-2026 management plan of its own.
On paper, the states still have until the end of the water year, or Oct. 1, to come up with a deal or to implement an alternate plan. But that may be too little too late to keep Lake Powell’s surface level from dropping below minimum power pool — otherwise known as de facto dead pool — later this year. While the negotiations are over the Colorado River, or rather the water in the river, in many ways they pivot around the need to keep Lake Powell’s surface level above 3,500 feet in elevation. That can only be done by releasing less water out of Glen Canyon Dam, or increasing flows into the reservoir, or a bit of both.
The sticking point in the negotiations hinges upon whether the Upper Basin states will take mandatory and verifiable cuts in water use. The Lower Basin states have already taken cuts, and have agreed to take more, but only if the Upper Basin does the same.
The Upper Basin (aka the Headwaters states) points out that while the Lower Basin has maxed out and even exceeded its Colorado River Compact allocation of 7.5 million acre-feet per year, the Upper Basin hasn’t even come close to using all of the water it’s entitled to. Furthermore, Upper Basin water users, especially those with more junior water rights, have grappled with drastic reductions during dry years because the Upper Basin lacks large reservoirs for storing water, meaning their water use is dictated in large part by the rivers’ flows. In 2021, for example, many southwestern Colorado farms had their ditches cut off as early as June, forcing them to sit the season out.
The Lower Basin states long used their entire 7.5 MAF allocation and then some, while the Upper Basin states use only about 4 MAF per year. In recent years, Arizona and California have cut consumptive use. Source: Bureau of Reclamation.
It’s also far simpler logistically to reduce consumption in the Lower Basin, where huge water users are served by a handful of very large diversions, such as the Central Arizona Project canal (which carries water to Phoenix and Tucson), the All-American Canal (serving the Imperial Irrigation District — the largest single water user on the entire river), and the California Aqueduct (serving Los Angeles and other cities), all of which are fed by Lake Mead and other reservoirs. Dialing back those three diversions alone could achieve the necessary water use reduction. The Upper Basin, on the other hand, pulls water from the river and its tributaries via hundreds of much smaller diversions; achieving meaningful cuts would require shutting off thousands of irrigation ditches to thousands of small water users under dubious authority. (ed. emphasis mine]
Also, proposals to divert and consume more of the Colorado River’s water — such as the Lake Powell pipeline — remain on the table, albeit tenuously. If that project were to be realized, which is a big if these days, it would further drain Lake Powell and result in even less water flowing down to the Lower Basin.
The Imperial Irrigation District is the largest single water user on the Colorado River by far. Most of that water goes to irrigating agriculture, including a fair amount of alfalfa and other forage crops. Las Vegas uses about one-tenth the amount of water as the IID. Source: Bureau of Reclamation.
Environmental groups tend to side with the Lower Basin on this issue. If the Upper Basin is forced to pull less water from the river, it would leave more water for the river, riparian ecosystems along the river, and aquatic critters. The Upper Basin’s proposal to release a percentage of the river’s “natural flow” from Glen Canyon Dam would leave less water in the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon, possibly imperiling endangered fish and rafting.
Meanwhile, the states’ lack of consensus pushes Glen Canyon Dam closer to the brink of deadpool.
The BoR’s “Post-2026 Operational Guidelines and Strategies for Lake Powell and Lake Mead” offers five alternative scenarios for how to run the river. While it doesn’t give a “preferred” alternative, officials have indicated that without all of the states’ approval or congressional action, they are only authorized to go with the Basic Coordination Alternative. That would include a minimum annual release of 7.0 million acre-feet from Glen Canyon Dam, with the largest mandatory cuts being borne by Arizona. But according to the BoR’s latest 24 month projection, that release level would lead to Lake Powell’s surface level dropping below minimum power pool by the end of this year, which is a really big problem.
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
Back in 2022, as climate change continued to diminish the Colorado River’s flows and Lake Powell shrunk to alarmingly low levels, the dam’s operators were faced with the prospect of having to shut down the penstocks, or water intakes for the hydroelectric turbines, and only release water from the river outlets lower on the dam. Not only would this zero out electricity production from the dam, along with nixing up to $200 million in revenue from selling that power, it might also compromise the dam itself. “Glen Canyon Dam was not envisioned to operate solely through the outworks for an extended period of time,” wrote Tanya Trujillo, then-Interior Department assistant secretary for water and science, in 2022, “and operating at this low lake level increases risks to water delivery and potential adverse impacts to downstream resources and infrastructure. … Glen Canyon Dam facilities face unprecedented operational reliability challenges.”
In March 2024, a BoR technical decision memorandum verified and clarified those risks, and recommended that dam operators “not rely on the river outlet works as the sole means for releasing water from Glen Canyon Dam.”
The only way to do that is to keep the water level above 3,490 feet in elevation, which could mean shifting Glen Canyon Dam to a run of the river operation — where releases equal Lake Powell inflows minus evaporation and seepage — as soon as this fall. That, most likely, will lead to annual releases far below 7 million acre-feet, which will then lead to Lake Mead’s level being drawn down considerably as the Lower Basin states rely on existing storage to meet their needs, thereby threatening Lower Basin supplies. Such a scenario is clearly not sustainable, would put the Upper Basin states in violation of the Colorado River Compact1, and would almost certainly lead to litigation.
An irony here is that Glen Canyon Dam’s primary purpose is to allow the Upper Basin to store water during wet years and release it during dry years, enabling it to meet its Compact obligations. Hydropower, silt control, and recreation were secondary purposes. Now the need to preserve the dam could cause the Upper Basin to run afoul of the Compact. Aridification is rendering the dam obsolete, at least as a water storage savings account. Meanwhile, low levels are diminishing hydropower and recreation. It seems that soon, the dam’s main purpose will be to prevent Lake Mead from filling up with silt. [ed. emphasis mine]
Mother Nature, or Mother Megadrought, if you prefer, has left few options for moving forward. The states still could come to an agreement, but it’s difficult to see how, given the long-running stalemate so far. The feds could reengineer Glen Canyon Dam to allow for sustained, low-water releases. That would only be a temporary fix, however, unless climatic trends reverse themselves and the West suddenly becomes much wetter and cooler. Somehow, that doesn’t seem too likely.
🥵 Aridification Watch 🐫
Is all of this Colorado River talk a bit confusing? Do you find yourself lost in the water-wonk weeds? Yeah, me too. That’s why I put together the Land Desk’s Colorado River glossary and primer. It’s not behind the paywall yet, so even you free-riders can take a look for the next few days. It’s worth looking at even if you already received the email edition last month, because it is now updated with new terms and more graphics (it didn’t all fit in the email version). I’ll keep updating it, too, as new questions about what it all means come up. And if you’re not already, you should consider becoming a paid subscriber and break down the archive paywall, allowing you to read the whole list of analysis, commentary, and data dumps I’ve done on the Colorado River over the last five years.
1 The Upper Basin and Lower Basin generally disagree on how to interpret the Colorado River Compact’s provision dictating that the Upper Basin “not cause the flow of the river at Lee Ferry to be depleted below an aggregate of 75 million acre-feet” for any 10-year period. The Upper Basin sees it as a “non-depletion obligation,” meaning they can’t exceed their 7.5 MAF/year allocation if it causes the Lee Ferry flow to fall below a 7.5 MAF/year average. The Lower Basin believes it’s a “delivery obligation,” and that the Upper Basin must deliver 7.5 MAF/year no matter what. Which interpretation is correct determines whether run-of-the-river would violate the Compact or not.
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)
The Government Highline Canal, near Grand Junction, delivers water from the Colorado River, and is managed by the Grand Valley Water Users Association. Prompted by concerns about outside investors speculating on Grand Valley water, the state convened a work group to study the issue. CREDIT: BRENT GARDNER-SMITH/ASPEN JOURNALISM
Click the link to read the article on The Denver Post website (Elise Schmelzer). Here’s an excerpt:
February 17, 2026
Negotiators from the seven states along the Colorado River blew past yet another federal deadline over the weekend without reaching a compromise on how to share its water — even as this winter’s dismal snowpack could spell immediate disaster for the river system.
Westwide SNOTEL basin-filled map February 18, 2026.
Years-long discussions about how to split the river’s shrinking water supply, which is relied upon by 40 million people, remained deadlocked as the Saturday deadline for a final deal came and went. It was a deadline set by the U.S. Department of the Interior. The seven basin states are split into two factions that have not agreed on how to divvy up cuts to water supplies in dry years. The Lower Basin states of Arizona, California and Nevada lie downstream of Lakes Powell and Mead and rely on releases from those reservoirs for water. The Upper Basin states — Colorado, Wyoming, Utah and New Mexico — are upstream of the reservoirs and primarily depend on mountain snowpack for their water supplies. Leaders from each basin pointed fingers at the other as the deadline passed. Lower Basin negotiators have repeatedly said that Upper Basin states must “share the pain” and take mandatory cuts in dry years, which have become increasingly common in recent decades. But the Upper Basin states say their water users already take cuts every year because their supplies depend on the amount of water available and are not propped up by supplies in Lakes Powell and Mead. Repeated overuse in the Lower Basin has drained the two reservoirs, they’ve argued.
“We’re being asked to solve a problem we didn’t create with water we don’t have,” Colorado’s negotiator, Becky Mitchell, said in a statement Friday. “The Upper Division’s approach is aligned with hydrologic reality and we’re ready to move forward.”
The Bureau of Reclamation’s latest forecast for the Colorado River predicts Lake Powell will “most probably” drop below the critical minimum power pool level before the end of this year, jeopardizing Glen Canyon Dam’s structural integrity. In the worst-case scenario, it would do so before summer’s end. This could force the feds to operate the dam as a “run-of-the-river” operation to preserve the dam’s infrastructure and hydropower output, which would significantly diminish downstream flows and threaten Lower Basin water supplies.
As political leaders unleashed a series of pointed statements Friday, the Bureau of Reclamation released new projections that show one of the river system’s major reservoirs could be in peril as soon as this summer. The bureau’s new projections show that, if drought conditions remain dire, Lake Powell could fall so low by the end of July that water would no longer flow through Glen Canyon Dam’s hydropower system — a level called “dead pool.” Even if snow conditions improve, the reservoir could still reach dead pool in November — a scenario the bureau dubbed its most probable outcome. The Colorado River District, an agency created by the Colorado legislature that’s based in Glenwood Springs and advocates for Western Slope water needs, said it was disappointing that Lower Basin negotiators walked away from discussions on the day the projections were released.
“With Lake Powell now quickly approaching dead pool, that decision reflects a continued disconnect from hydrologic reality and a clear refusal to confront the core problem: longstanding Lower Basin overuse,” the district said Monday in a statement.
Snowpack across the mountains that feed the Colorado River remained dismal in early February. Above Lake Powell, snowpack on Feb. 1 sat at 47% of the median recorded for that time of year between 1991 and 2020. The water year — which began Oct. 1 — has so far featured record-setting warmth and limited precipitation, according to the National Weather Service’sColorado Basin River Forecast Center. That could translate to water supplies at 38% of normal, according to the center. Current projections show inflow into Lake Powell will total a meager 2.4 million acre-feet — far less than the 7.5 million acre-feet allocated to the Lower Basin in the 1922 Colorado River Compact.
Map of the Colorado River drainage basin, created using USGS data. By Shannon1 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0
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 AZCentral.com website (Branson Loomis). Here’s an excerpt:
February 13, 2026
Key Points
The seven Colorado River Basins states failed to reach a shortage-sharing agreement in time for a Feb. 14 deadline set by the federal government.
State officials say negotiations have yielded “almost no headway” toward a compromise over who will give up water.
The Interior Department has said it will impose its own plan, but that prospect could trigger a lengthy legal battle as states move to protect their water allocations.
The prospect of a costly and prolonged interstate lawsuit over rights to the Colorado River looms now that the states using the water are blowing past a Valentine’s Day deadline with no water-sharing deal in hand. With no agreement among the states, Interior Secretary Doug Burgum said the federal government could no longer delay action and would move forward with work on a set of alternatives outlined late last year.
“Negotiation efforts have been productive,” Burgum said in a statement Feb. 14. “We have listened to every state’s perspective and have narrowed the discussion by identifying key elements and issues necessary for an agreement. We believe that a fair compromise with shared responsibility remains within reach.”
[…]
The dispute has largely hinged on whether states in the headwaters region would agree to mandatory cuts [ed. no one has the authority to order mandatory cuts in Colorado and likely in the entire upper basin] to their overall supply in especially dry years — a commitment they have so far rejected in part because they do not use their full allocation as the more developed Southwest does…
“As I talk with people throughout Southern Nevada, I hear their frustration that years of negotiations have yielded almost no headway in finding a path through these turbulent waters. As someone who has spent countless nights and weekends away from my family trying to craft a reasonable, mutually acceptable solution only to be confronted by the same tired rhetoric and entrenched positions,” [John] Entsminger said, “I share that frustration.”
The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation has released a February 24-month study showing inflow to Lake Powell declining by 1.5 million acre-feet since January as the federal agency highlights the worsening hydrologic conditions across the Colorado River Basin.
The study of the most probable forecast for the Colorado River under current conditions was released on Friday, just as the seven compact states remained at a stalemate and failed to meet a Feb. 14 deadline for agreement on how to reduce their own usage of water to save the river.
U.S. Interior Secretary Doug Burgum announced on Saturday, Feb. 14, that the federal government is moving forward with finalizing operating guidelines for the Colorado River reservoirs by Oct. 1. His announcement adds pressure to Colorado and the other compact states to find compromise or face guidelines forced onto them by the federal government.
“While the seven Basin States have not reached full consensus on an operating framework, the Department cannot delay action,” the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation said in its announcement that the federal government was moving forward.
Colorado River Basin. Credit: USGS
The lack of agreement among the compact states and the idea of federal intervention raises the prospect of litigation that would be drawn out and ultimately end with the U.S. Supreme Court. The current Rio Grande Compact dispute between Texas and New Mexico that has taken 12 years to reach a proposed settlement, now filed with the U.S. Supreme Court, gives an indication to the slow-evolving nature of U.S. water law.
“I am disappointed that the seven Basin States could not reach a consensus agreement on the future management of the Colorado River by the U.S. Department of the Interior’s Feb. 14 deadline,” said Colorado Attorney General Phil Weiser, who added that Colorado is prepared for litigation to protect Colorado’s rights and interests.
“Colorado will continue to work with our fellow Upper Division States to provide comments on the federal government’s draft environmental impact statement, which sets forth a range of possible solutions. The Upper Division States will have to cut back their usage of water from the Colorado River — by 40 percent or more — in the face of an historic drought,” he said.
U.S. Sen. John Hickenlooper said the low snowpack this winter is adding an exclamation point to the dire conditions of the Colorado River Basin. “If we don’t address this problem together — head-on and fast — our communities, farms, and economies will suffer,” Hickenlooper said.
“The best path forward is the one we take together. Litigation won’t solve the problem of this long-term aridification. No one knows for sure how the courts could decide and the math will only get worse.”
BLM’s February 24-month study shows a loss of 1.5 million acre-feet is equivalent to approximately 50 feet in elevation in Lake Powell.
“The basin’s poor hydrologic outlook highlights the necessity for collaboration as the Basin States, in collaboration with Reclamation, work on developing the next set of operating guidelines for the Colorado River system,” said Acting BLM Commissioner Scott Cameron. “Available tools will be utilized and coordination with partners will be essential this year to manage the reservoirs and protect infrastructure.”
The water year inflow is now estimated at just 52 percent of average, and as a result, the February 24-Month Study projects, for the first time, that Lake Powell could decline (based on most probable projections) to:
“The basin’s poor hydrologic outlook highlights the necessity for collaboration as the Basin States, in collaboration with Reclamation, work on developing the next set of operating guidelines for the Colorado River system,” said Acting BLM Commissioner Scott Cameron. “Available tools will be utilized and coordination with partners will be essential this year to manage the reservoirs and protect infrastructure.”
The water year inflow is now estimated at just 52 percent of average, and as a result, the February 24-Month Study projects, for the first time, that Lake Powell could decline (based on most probable projections) to:
3,490 ft – minimum power pool in December 2026; below this level Glen Canyon Dam’s ability to release water is reduced and it can no longer produce hydropower.
3,476 ft – in March 2027; the lowest elevation on record since filling further constraining the ability to release water from Glen Canyon Dam.
Colorado River managers estimate that around 4 million acre-feet of cuts are needed to bring the basin back into balance – an amount equal to more than a quarter of the Colorado River’s annual average flow.
“There needs to be unbelievably harsh, unprecedented cuts,” Brad Udall, a senior water and climate research scientist at the Colorado Water Center, told The Guardian media outlet.
“Mother Nature is not going to bail us out,” Udall said.
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
Flows in the Colorado River are down 20 percent over the last century and precipitation has shrunk by about 7 percent with rising temperatures as aridification takes hold across the southwest.
“The chickens are coming home to roost,” Udall said. “Climate models have underestimated how much warming we are going to get, and humans are not stepping up.”
Jack Schmidt, director of the Center for Colorado River Studies at Utah State University, likened the negotiations among the seven compact states to the final scene in “Thelma and Louise.” “Seven people have their hands on the steering wheel driving toward the edge of a cliff — and no one is working the brakes,” he reportedly said.
The controversy surrounding Glen Canyon Dam’s River Outlet Works (ROW) centers on a critical design vulnerability: the dam may soon be unable to reliably release water if Lake Powell drops below the minimum power pool (3,490 feet). 1
Aerial photo of the Glen Canyon Dam near Page, Arizona. Photo by Alexander Heilner/The Water Desk, with aerial support by LightHawk.
While the dam usually releases water through high-elevation penstocks to generate hydropower, the ROW—four 8-foot-wide steel pipes—is theonly way to move water once levels drop too low for the turbines. Recent inspections by the Bureau of Reclamation revealed significant damage to these pipes, including cavitation—a process where high-velocity water creates vapor bubbles that implode, eroding the steel.2
Reliability Gap: The ROW was designed for temporary use (e.g., flood control), not for the continuous, long-term operation that a “dead pool” scenario would require. A March 2024 memo from the Bureau of Reclamation warned that they should not be relied upon as the sole means of sustained water delivery.3
Legal & Economic Threat: If the ROW fails or its capacity is restricted to prevent further damage, the Upper Basin states may be unable to meet their legal obligation to deliver water to 30 million people in the Lower Basin (Arizona, Nevada, California).4
Safety Buffer: Due to the damage, the Bureau recently determined they can only safely operate the ROW at levels at least 24 feet above dead pool (3,370 feet), effectively raising the “failure point” of the dam’s plumbing.5
Proposed Fixes: Environmental groups, such as the Utah Rivers Council, advocate for drilling new, lower-level bypass tunnels around the dam to ensure water can flow even at riverbed levels. However, these modifications are costly and could take over a decade to implement.6
Meadows in north Routt County, Colorado, were bare in spots on Feb. 9 after a slow start to this winter’s snowpack. Scott Franz/KUNC
Click the link to read the article on the KUNC website (Scott Franz):
February 13, 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.
Jay Fetcher and other ranchers in northwest Colorado measure snowpack each winter using their barbed wire stock fences.
A healthy level is called a three wire winter, when the snow piles up past the third wire above the ground. But on Feb. 9, the region was experiencing a zero wire winter.
“We just have no snow, and I have never seen it, in my 75 years here, I have never seen this,” Fetcher said Monday as he navigated patches of mud on his ranch in the Elk River valley north of Steamboat Springs.
Jay Fetcher poses on his ranch in northwest Colorado on Feb. 9. Low snowpack is adding pressure to negotiations on how to conserve the dwindling Colorado River. Scott Franz/KUNC
Many of the hills and meadows surrounding his ranch were brown and bare. The thermostat on Fetcher’s truck read 50 degrees, and the last patch of snow was melting fast off the roof of a barn.
This year, Fetcher’s ranch is on the frontlines of record-low snowpack across the West that is adding a sense of urgency among seven states to finalize a plan for how to conserve the dwindling Colorado River.
The snow in the nearby Zirkel wilderness melts into the Elk River and irrigates Fetcher’s fields before the water eventually joins the Colorado River and flows to millions of people downstream.
But things have been changing near Fetcher’s ranch over the past decade, and it could have implications for states competing for the water supply.
Since 1951, the Fetchers have tracked how long the snow stays on their meadows by marking the date in a little red journal. The data shows the snow is melting sooner in the valley.
“In the past 10 years, the snow leaving the meadow has moved up by 12 days,” he said. “This winter is a real indication of climate change, with bare meadows in the middle of February. I mean, what date am I going to write down for (when) snow left the meadow this year? Did it ever come?”
Jay Fetcher walks through a barn door on his ranch in Routt County, Colorado. Scott Franz/KUNC
The dwindling water supply in the Colorado River basin is driving intense negotiations among the seven states over how to share it in the future. Some forecasts predict water levels at Lake Powell could get so low this year that its dam would stop producing electricity. States have until Saturday to come to an agreement and the pressure has been building.
If they don’t, they might end up fighting each other in the Supreme Court.
Downstream states, including California and Arizona, say Colorado and states in the upper basin should pitch in with mandatory water restrictions during dry years.
But leaders in the Rocky Mountains are digging in.
They say ranchers and cities are already enacting conservation plans, and more cuts should not be forced on them.
“If we don’t choose how to live within the river’s limits, the river will choose it for us, and she will not be gentle,” Becky Mitchell, Colorado’s top river negotiator, said in a speech to a water conference in January. “Operations (of the river’s reservoirs) must be supply based, not demand based, not entitlement justified, and not built on a hope that the next big year will save us.”
Negotiators in the lower basin are calling for compromise. J.B. Hamby is California’s water negotiator.
“It’s going to take everyone chipping in and making the necessary (water) reductions to balance the supply with the demand we have moving forward,” he said during a speech last month.
The Yampa River in downtown Steamboat Springs was mostly ice free on Feb. 9 as temperatures rose above 50 degrees. Scott Franz/KUNC
Sitting on a patio on his ranch in northwest Colorado, Fetcher said Monday he’s not confident the lower and upper basins will resolve their differences anytime soon.
He said he’s willing to donate some water he doesn’t use each year downstream to California, but under current regulations, he would risk losing his water rights under a ‘use it or lose it’ system.
“I know that we will be able to irrigate these meadows just fine, because of our water rights, because of where we are, because of the ranch being on the Elk River. So from a personal standpoint, I’m okay with it,” he said. “The challenging question is, what happens with the lower basin? They’re just going to have to think about how to get by with less water and not have so many golf courses out there.”
The deadline for the seven states to agree on a long-term plan for how to conserve the Colorado River is Saturday.
Westwide SNOTEL basin-filled map February 12, 2026.
A photo of Glen Canyon Dam from 2022, when the dam’s intake points were 33 feet away from minimum power pool. The top of the grate-like penstocks can be seen in this photo. Luna Anna Archey / High Country News
Floyd Dominy, the commissioner of the federal Bureau of Reclamation in the 1960s, was largely responsible for the construction of Glen Canyon Dam on the Colorado River. In 1963, when the dam was completed, he could not have foreseen the climate situation we find ourselves in today, with declining snowpack, record-high temperatures and alarmingly low water levels in Lake Powell, year after year. But he and his engineers could have, and should have, foreseen that the way they designed the dam would leave little room to maneuver should a water-supply crisis ever impact the river and its watershed.
Indeed, a state of crisis has been building on the Colorado for decades, even as the parties that claim its water argue over how to divide its rapidly diminishing flows. Lately, things have entered a new and perilous phase. Last Nov. 11 was a long-awaited deadline: Either the states involved — California, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, New Mexico, Colorado and Wyoming — would have to agree on a new management plan, or else the federal government would impose its own, something none of the parties would welcome. Meanwhile, the 30 tribes that also hold claims to the river have historically been and continue to be excluded from these negotiations.
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
That deadline came and went, and instead of acting, the government punted, this time to Feb. 14. Nobody was surprised: Unmet deadlines and empty ultimatums have been business as usual on the river for years. Decades of falling reservoir levels and clear warnings from scientists about global warming and drought have prompted much hand-wringing and some temporary conservation measures, but little in the way of permanent change in how water is used in the Colorado River Basin.
The downstream face of Glen Canyon Dam, which forms Lake Powell, America’s second-largest water reservoir. Water is released from the reservoir through a hydropower generation system at the base of the dam. Photo by Brian Richter
For decades, the seven Basin states have used more water than the river delivers by drawing their entitlements from surpluses banked in reservoirs during the wet 1980s and ’90s, chiefly in Lake Mead and Lake Powell. Never mind that those entitlements were based on an over-estimate of river flows in 1922, when the Colorado River Compact was established, rendering the “paper” water of the entitlements essentially a fiction, not to mention a source of continual conflict. That savings account has now been drained: Mead and Powell are each below 30% full, and the trend is steadily downward. Global warming has only accelerated the decline: So far this century, the river’s flow has fallen 20% from its long-term annual averages, and scientists forecast more of the same as the climate continues to heat up.
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
Meanwhile, the physical infrastructure that enables Colorado River water management is on the verge of its own real and potentially catastrophic crisis — and yet Reclamation has barely acknowledged this, with the exception of an oblique reference in an unposted technical memorandum from 2024. The falling reservoir levels reveal another, deeper set of problems inside Glen Canyon Dam, which holds back the Colorado and Lake Powell. The 710-foot-tall dam was designed for a Goldilocks world in which water levels would never be too high or too low, despite the well-known fact that the Colorado is by far the most variable river in North America, prone to prodigious floods and extended droughts. But the Bureau, bursting with Cold War confidence — or hubris — chose to downplay the threat. In the record-breaking El Niño winter of 1983, the Bureau almost lost the dam to overtopping, due to both its mismanagement and its design, because the dam lacks sufficient spillway capacity for big floods. Only sheets of plywood installed across its top and cooler temperatures that slowed the melting of that year’s snowpack saved Glen Canyon Dam.
The four 96-inch diameter steel pipes of the River Outlet Works. If the dam’s penstocks are closed, these pipes are the only remaining way to pass water through the dam, and are unsafe to use for extended intervals. Luna Anna Archey / High Country News
Gus Levy, Glen Canyon Dam’s plant facility manager, walks past hydropower turbines. In 2022, due to the low water level of Lake Powell, only five of the eight turbines operated on a daily basis, though all eight were kept in working order. Luna Anna Archey / High Country News
Today, the dam is threatened not by too much water but too little. In March 2023, the water level of Lake Powell dropped to within 30 feet of the minimum required for power generation, known as “minimum power pool.” At 3,490 feet above sea level, minimum power pool is 20 feet above the generators’ actual intakes, or penstocks, but the dam’s eight turbines must be shut down at minimum power pool to avoid cavitation — when air is sucked down like a whirlpool into the penstocks, forming explosive bubbles which can cause massive failure inside the dam.
Even more worrisome is what would happen next. At minimum power pool, the penstocks would have to be closed, and the only remaining way to pass water through the dam is the river outlet works, or ROWs: two intakes in the rear face of the dam leading to four 96-inch-diameter steel pipes with a combined maximum discharge capacity of 15,000 cubic feet per second. However, the ROWs, also known as bypass tubes, have a serious design flaw: They are unsafe to use for extended intervals, and start to erode when the reservoir is low.
In 2023, when the ROWs were used to conduct a high-flow release into the Grand Canyon at low-reservoir levels, there was, in fact, damaging cavitation, and the Bureau has warned that there would likely be more in the event of their extended use. In practice, safe releases downstream may only be a fraction of their claimed capacity — and if the tubes begin to experience cavitation, flows may need to be cut off entirely. Such a scenario would compromise the dam’s legal downstream delivery requirements, or, to put it bluntly, its ability to deliver enough water to the 25 million people downstream who rely on it — as well as the billions of dollars’ worth of agriculture involved. This means that Lake Powell — and with it, the entire Colorado River system — is perilously close to operational failure.
If reservoir levels drop to the ROWs’ elevation of 3,370 feet above sea level, Lake Powell would reach “dead pool,” where water would pass through the dam only when the river’s flow exceeded the amount of water lost to evaporation from the reservoir. No other intakes nor spillways exist below the ROWs. There is no “drain plug.” Yet there is more dam — 240 feet more before the bottom of the reservoir, effectively the old riverbed. This not-insignificant impoundment — about 1.7 million acre-feet of water — would be trapped, stagnant and heating in the sun, prone to algal blooms and deadly anoxia. The lake would rise and fall wildly, as much as 100 feet in a season, because of the martini-glass shape of Lake Powell’s vertical cross section.
Illustration from the report, <a href=”https://utahrivers.org/blog-post/2022/8/9/lenapost“>Antique Plumbing & Leadership Postponed</a> from the Utah Rivers Council, Glen Canyon Institute and the Great Basin Water Network. Courtesy of Utah Rivers Council
Insufficient or no flows through Glen Canyon Dam would be a disaster of unprecedented magnitude, affecting vast population centers and some of the biggest economies in the world, not to mention ecosystems that depend on the river all the way to the Gulf of California in Mexico. The Lower Basin states of California, Arizona and Nevada warned as much in a recent letter to Interior Secretary Doug Burgum, saying that Reclamation’s failure to mention the dam’s plumbing problems in its current environmental impact statement for post-2026 operations is against federal law. The letter reads: “Addressing the infrastructure limitations may be the one long-term measure that would best achieve operation and management improvements to the Glen Canyon Dam.”
To date, however, the Bureau has made no formal response.
One thing is clear: Glen Canyon Dam will need to be modified to meet its legal and operational requirements. In the process, the health of the ecosystems in Glen Canyon, above the dam, and in Grand Canyon, below it, must be considered. The best way to avoid operational failure and the economic and ecological disasters that would follow is to re-engineer the dam to allow the river to run through it or around it at river level, transporting its natural sediment load into the Grand Canyon.
Sketches by Floyd Dominy show the way he’d end the Glen Canyon Dam. From the article “Floyd Dominy built the Glen Canyon Dam, then he sketched its end on a napkin” on the Salt Lake Tribune
As it happens, Floyd Dominy himself provided us with a simple and elegant plan for how to do it. In 1997, the former commissioner sketched on a cocktail napkin how new bypass tunnels could be drilled through the soft sandstone around the dam and outfitted with waterproof valves to control the flow of water and sediment. What it prescribes is treating the patient — the Colorado River, now on life support — with open-heart surgery, a full bypass. Dominy’s napkin, which he signed and gave to my colleague Richard Ingebretsen, the founder of Glen Canyon Institute, is effectively a blueprint for a healthier future for the Colorado River and the people and ecosystems that depend on it.
But the window for action to avoid dead pool is dauntingly narrow and closing fast, especially given the time that would likely be required for the government to study, design and implement a fix. The Trump administration’s gutting of federal agency expertise and capacity adds yet more urgency to the issue. Whatever may or may not get decided on Feb. 14, the feds and the basin states need to look beyond the water wars and start building a lasting, sustainable future on the Colorado River.
The seven states that take water from the Colorado River have a deadline of February 14 to come up with a river management plan that they can all agree on. And every day that passes it looks as if that deadline, not the first one they have faced, will also be missed. Valentines Day may not be one of shared love by all.
The Colorado River basin is experiencing the greatest drought and loss of flows in the past 1200 years and the various agreements crafted to deal with deepening drought, particularly the 2007 Interim Guidelines and subsequent Drought Contingency Plans, are set to expire at the end of this year.
The major sticking point is centered around how water diversions from the river will be cut, and there will be substantial cuts. Most of that burden will fall on the Lower Basin states of California, Arizona and Nevada. They are the largest users of Colorado River water. Cuts for the four Upper Basin states; Colorado, Wyoming, Utah and New Mexico are not considered in either the previous guideline and agreements nor in the recently released Draft Environmental Impact Statement (DEIS) for Post-2026 Operational Guidelines and Strategies for Lake Powell and Lake Mead by the Bureau of Reclamation. The DEIS only looks at the river below the upper reaches of Lake Powell.
This has the Lower Basin up in arms. They are demanding mandatory, verifiable and enforceable cuts by the river diversions in the Upper Basin. The Upper Basin is refusing this demand, and Arizona in particular is threatening to unleash its historical use of litigation to try and get what it wants.
Underlying this, however, is a very fundamental misunderstanding of how water diversions work between the Lower and Upper Basins. I’m starting to think that misunderstanding is deliberate, primarily to mislead the public constituents within the Lower Basin states. [ed. emphasis mine]
Tom Buschatzke, director of Arizona’s Department of Water Resources, has said, “We need certainty there are reductions in upper basin usage because that is one of the two tools that we have… You can’t make it snow or rain. But you can reduce your demand”.
But in the Upper Basin that is not as easy as it sounds.
I have read that the true skill of a good negotiator is in being able to truly understand the other sides position. There are skilled and knowledgeable negotiators in the Lower basin, but I don’t think that they truly understand the Upper Basins position. They have been accustomed, some would say addicted, to the reliable delivery of stored water for all their needs since Hoover Dam was built and began releasing stored water some 90 years ago. Only until very recently, even in the face of an unrelenting drought, have they had to deal with shortages. For the Upper Basin shortage is an annual reality.
The Lower Basin takes water from the Colorado River mainly through a small handful of very large diversions such as the All American Canal, which provides water for Imperial and Coachella Valley agriculture, the Central Arizona Project (CAP) providing water for Pheonix, Tucson, Tribes, and Arizona agriculture and the California Aqueduct, which provides water for Los Angeles, San Diego and most Southern California cities. While distribution from these few large diversions to individual contract uses may be complicated by drought, reducing the intake at their diversion points isn’t.
That situation is very different in the Upper Basin. In Colorado, Wyoming and New Mexico there are many thousands of small diversions taking water from the Colorado River, the Green River and their myriad headwater tributaries. There are a few large diversions in the Upper Basin, primarily for water taken out of the basin to Colorado’s East Slope cities and farms and to Utah’s Wasatch Front, but these diversions are still quite small compared to those in the Lower Basin.
The largest reservoirs in the Upper Basin are those built through the Colorado River Storage Act (CRSP, 1956), such as Flaming Gorge, Blue Mesa and Navajo. These reservoirs were not built to supply Upper Basin water needs, but to provide a “bank account” for Colorado River Compact compliance. In other words, for the benefit of the Lower Basin. Releases from these reservoirs are contemplated in the Post-2026 DEIS to maintain water elevations in Lake Powell that protect vital dam infrastructure and hydropower generation.
Lake Powell is also an Upper Basin reservoir in the CRSP Act of 1956. It was built entirely for Compact compliance and water deliveries to the Lower Basin. It has no water supply benefit to the Upper Basin other than as a Compact savings account.
A major wrinkle in any mandatory curtailments in Upper Basin diversions is simply in administrative logistics. It would be a complete nightmare for water administration and the State water engineers offices. And in Colorado it would be in the Water Courts as well.
A little legal background is needed here as well.
See Article 6.
All of the Colorado Basin states have Prior Appropriation as the bedrock doctrine for their water laws. California has a bit of a mix with Riparian law, but as far as the Colorado River diversions are concerned prior appropriation rules. Prior appropriation is the doctrine of “first in time, first in right” to divert the available water. Colorado was the first to codify prior appropriation in its state constitution, in 1876. Article 16, Section 6:
“The right to divert the unappropriated waters of any natural stream to beneficial uses shall never be denied. Priority of appropriation shall give the better right as between those using the water for the same purpose; but when the waters of any natural stream are not sufficient for the service of all those desiring the use of the same, those using the water for domestic purposes shall have the preference over those claiming for any other purpose, and those using the water for agricultural purposes shall have preference over those using the same for manufacturing purposes.“
In Colorado you don’t actually need a court decreed right to divert water to a beneficial use. Just a shovel and a ditch. However, you are still subject to prior appropriation and can be the first cut off if a call is placed on the stream. There are a lot of such small diversions without an adjudicated right. I used to water my lawn in Eagle that way.
The Colorado River Compact of 1922 was created to avoid prior appropriation between the states. The US Supreme Court had decided that when there is a dispute over water between States that held prior appropriation as their foundational water law, seniority applies across state lines. Southern California was starting to grow at a much more rapid pace than the other states, greatly alarming the headwater, Upper Basin states. The Compact was crafted so that water from the river could be allocated “equitably”, allowing each state to grow and develop its water at its own pace. The Compact became the foundation of what is now known as the Law of the River. Laws based on prior appropriation still govern water use and administration within each State.
Arizona and California began arguing and litigating almost immediately, with Arizona usually on the losing end. That changed in 1963 when the US Supreme Court handed down a decision that once and for all set the water allocations for the Lower Basin, based on the allocations created in the 1928 Boulder Canyon Project Act, which finally ratified the Compact and paved the way for Hoover Dam, Lake Mead and the All American Canal.
Then the seniority picture between states changed with the passage of the 1968 Colorado River Projects Act that authorized construction of Arizona’s long fought for dream of the Central Arizona Project. To get passage, Arizona had to subordinate its water rights to California, making it the junior and first to take cuts in times of drought.
Upper Colorado River Basin map via the Upper Colorado River Commission.
None of that extended into the Upper Basin, where the States had been getting along just fine, mostly, since the Compact was signed. These four states drafted their own Upper Colorado River Basin Compact in 1948, mainly so they could get more money from the Federal Government to build water storage and delivery projects. They did something novel, allocating each states share by a percentage of the rivers flow, not by set volumes of water as the 1922 Compact had 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
Everything was fine so long as the major reservoirs of Lakes Mead and Powell were full. That has changed considerably since the onset of the current mega, or Millennial drought began in 2000. The two reservoirs have dropped to very low levels, levels never anticipated or planned for.
Here is the crux of the matter. The Lower Basin is demanding mandatory cuts from Upper Basin uses so that more water can flow downstream for their use. The 1922 Compact says clearly that the Upper Basin states “will not cause the river flow at Lee Ferry to be depleted below and aggregate of 75,000,000 acre feet for any period of ten consecutive years…”. The Lower Basin states argue that this constitutes an “obligation” to deliver that much water to them. The Upper Basin states say no, there is no delivery obligation. It is a non-depletion requirement, that through diversions and actual consumption the states can’t let those flows drop below 75 million acre feet (maf) in a ten year running average.
That has never been a problem, until now. The 1922 Compact and its non-depletion requirement is a priority right in itself. Any water right in the Upper Basin that was adjudicated, perfected by actual use and consumption, after 1922 is subject to curtailment for fulfilling the non-depletion requirement. Any and all rights perfected prior to November 1922 are exempt.
So far, as of 2026, the required flows over a ten year running average have not yet hit that non-depletion trigger of 75 maf running average over ten years. Not yet, but it could be getting close.
The Upper Basin states live by a “run of the river” system as there are no large storage units dedicated to their use as the Lower Basin has with Powell and Mead. There are many small reservoirs used for a single irrigation season, filled with the spring runoff and then empty by the end of the growing season. But they also are subject to how much water comes in the spring and downstream senior calls.
Every year, especially since this mega drought and increased aridification began, Upper Basin irrigators are curtailed each summer as the streams shrink and the small reservoirs are drained. Some years this curtailment includes water rights that are senior to the Compact as well.
The Upper basin, in short, is forced to live within its means, with what it has and no more than Mother Nature provides with the winter snowpack. As Tom Buschatzke said, “You can’t make it snow or rain. But you can reduce your demand”. The Upper Basin does exactly that every year, especially in years like this with a record low snowpack.
The mandatory, verifiable and enforceable cuts demanded by the Lower Basin would be more than difficult to achieve. And again, it would be an administrative and legal nightmare for those assigned the task on the thousands of relatively small, individual diversions that make up the Upper Basin’s water use from the Colorado River. There are those larger trans-basin diversions to the Colorado East Slope and cities, but even if they took substantial cuts, it would still be a pretty small amount of water. No where near the amounts that the Lower Basin has become accustomed to.
Right now the Upper Basin uses roughly half their Compact allocation, roughly around 4 maf a year, while the Lower Basin has historically used more than their full Compact allocation. To their credit, the Lower Basin has made substantial cuts, some voluntary and some enforced by agreements and obligations. California was forced to cut their water use by 800,000 acre-feet with the 2007 Interim Guidelines, back to their actual decreed limit, a cut some claim as an example of how much “sacrifice” they have made. They and Arizona have made additional cuts as well, now taking around 6 maf, from a historic high near 10 maf per year.
I agree that the Upper basin needs to work harder at conservation, and they have been trying hard over the last few years. They haven’t been hording water or ignoring the needs of the Lower Basin or those spelled out in the Compact and subsequent agreements as some in the Lower Basin claim. But “mandatory” cuts beyond those already happening each and every summer will require significant changes with state water law and administration. In Colorado’s case it could well require a change to Article 16, Section Six, of the state’s constitution which has held unaltered since 1876.
We live now in a very different world from the 1800’s and 1922 when the Compact was drafted, using highly optimistic flow calculations that they already knew were wrong. But the men who drafted it were boosters, as were their fathers, seeing the West as they wanted to, not as it really was. America’s westward expansion has always been driven by dreams of abundance, and for a while the river was able to provide that through massive engineering, a still small but growing population and some pretty wet years. Many still hold on to that misguided dream of abundance in an increasingly arid region.
That has all evaporated. All water users in the West, especially the Colorado River basin, expect certainty and reliability, as Tom Buschatzke declared. We’ve built an entire system, and an entire economy based on those principals. Certainty and reliability are now fading rapidly in the rear view mirror, if we dare to look. Many won’t. The Colorado River has made the desert bloom and let us build great cities. But its dwindling supply is placing all that in jeopardy. We need to adapt. The only certain and reliable future is one with less water, greater aridity and warmer and much drier climate.
Maybe our great civilization built on a desert river will go the way of the Hohokam who filled the valley Pheonix now inhabits with irrigation canals and a thriving population. Maybe. We can change that scenario if we adapt to the new reality. That will be both hard and painful. Parochial self-interest must be balanced with regional ties and interests, and that is never easy. Nor is it politically palatable. The Lower Basin is railing against the Upper Basin’s refusal to provide water it just doesn’t have. The Upper Basin is living within its means while honoring its commitments to the Compact as best it can.
The Bureau of Reclamation in its DEIS for Post-2026 river management introduced a new concept, at least new for Colorado River management. Decision making under Deep Uncertainty, or DMDU. Many, seemingly, aren’t familiar with that concept. Even the Bureau’s recommendations may not go far enough with that concept. They don’t seriously engage the reality that both Powell and Mead are headed for deadpool, meaning that the only water available from either reservoir will be what flows in. There will be no storage to rely on. None. That will have far more devastating impacts than what any of the alternatives contemplate. [ed. emphasis mine]
But when the well runs dry there isn’t much we can do. A few years ago the concept of stationarity in climate norms, basing predictions within the parameters of historical extremes, was declared dead. The ideas of certainty and reliability are now headed for the same graveyard.
Colorado River “Beginnings”. Photo: Brent Gardner-Smith/Aspen Journalism
