An archipelago of ancient bioherms living on the Great Salt Lake’s southeastern side. Photo by Robert Marcos.
“This day we arrived in the valley of the great Salt Lake. My feelings were such as I cannot describe. Everything looked bloomy and I felt heart sick.”Lorenzo Young, Brigham Young’s younger brother
by Robert Marcos
Utah’s Great Salt Lake sits at dangerously low levels
The Great Salt Lake is currently locked in a critical structural decline, hovering in a “serious adverse effects” range at nearly seven feet below its minimum healthy level. Decades of excessive human water diversions for agriculture and rapid urban growth, coupled with a warming climate, have stripped the lake of over half its historic water volume. This trajectory directly parallels the Aral Sea disaster in Central Asia, where Soviet-era river diversions for cotton farming completely decimated a massive inland sea, turning it into a barren desert of toxic salt flats. If Utah fails to drastically alter its current water policies and consumption, the Great Salt Lake faces the exact same fate of complete ecological collapse.1
The Source of Half of the Wasatch Front’s Precipitation
The potential disappearance of the lake would critically disrupt the regional water cycle because half of the convective precipitation along Utah’s heavily populated Wasatch Front relies on the lake’s evaporation. As a terminal lake, its vast surface area fuels a vital localized hydrological sub-cycle, generating the famous “lake-effect” storms that dump immense snowpacks into nearby mountains. Recent research from Utah State University confirms that if the lake dries up completely, regional precipitation will face an approximate 50% reduction. This would trigger a devastating, self-perpetuating drought loop: less lake surface area means fewer storms, which shrinks mountain snowpacks and further dries the rivers needed to refill the basin.2
Potential for a Widespread Respiratory and Cardiovascular Crisis
The long-term consequences of a completely dried lakebed would be catastrophic for Utah’s public health, economy, and environment. With nearly 1,000 square miles of exposed lakebed, heavy winds would unleash massive, toxic dust storms laced with naturally occurring arsenic, mercury, and other hazardous minerals directly into the Salt Lake City metropolitan area. This airborne pollution would trigger widespread respiratory and cardiovascular crises, rendering the region largely uninhabitable. Furthermore, the collapse would wipe out the lake’s multi-billion-dollar mineral extraction and brine shrimp industries, decimate the habitat of 10 million migratory birds, and permanently cripple Utah’s iconic multi-million-dollar ski industry due to the permanent loss of winter snowpack.3
The IID’s former Watermaster, Merlon Kidwell, makes a presentation to a group studying the Colorado River crisis. Photo by Robert Marcos.
by Robert Marcos & Brad Barham, PhD
In 2022 – while conducting a study of the Colorado River crisis, Dr. Brad Barham – a Professor of Agricultural Economics at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, two of his undergrads and I watched a Powerpoint presentation given by the Imperial Irrigation District’s Watermaster, Merlon Kidwell. Kidwell retired last year after fifty years with the IID. Besides the IID’s hospitality that day, there were two fundamentally-important things we’ve never forgotten –
1. The IID maintains 3,000 miles of delivery canals and agricultural drains that convey 3.1 million acre feet of Colorado River water every year. This amount represents about a quarter of the Colorado River’s average annual 12.5MAF output since 2000.1 Under its historic contracts with the federal government, the IIDis exempt from paying for the water it receives, it does however pay for the operation, maintenance, and repair of the 80-mile long All-American Canal, its own internal water delivery systems, and a portion of the cost of maintaining the Imperial Dam.2
2. Similarly, the IID does not charge farmersfor the water itself. It charges farmers (who are connected to the IID’s water delivery system) an annual fee for that connection, plus a flat $20 per acre foot for the costs associated with the delivery of their water. 3
IID employees demonstrate an automated canal gate to a group studying the Colorado River crisis. Photo by Robert Marcos.
Meanwhile, the San Diego County Water Authority pays a wholesale price that’s between $700 and $1,200 per acre-foot for that same (untreated) Colorado River water.4 With such a disparity in water prices it seems reasonable to ask if the IID could both conserve water and lower the price paid by municipal users by raising the price paid by farmers.5
It doesn’t take an economist to understand the “law of demand” which says: “As the price of goods or services go up, people will generally use less of it”. Today with Lake Powell hovering just above the dead pool level it’ has become crucial’s more urgent than ever to understand why the price of water that’s provided to Imperial Valley farmers hasn’t gone up considering the increased scarcity of Colorado River water.
For decades now the Imperial Irrigation District has demonstrated that they prefer the carrot to the stick – in other words the IID has provided farmers with financial incentives and the technology that’s required in order to conserve water. The IID also cannot raise water prices because of laws established by California Proposition 218.
California’s Proposition 218 was passed by voters in 1996 in order to protect taxpayers by requiring voter approval for local tax increases and restricting property-related fees to the actual, proportional cost of service delivery 6. Since the IID receives Colorado River water for free, they can only charge farmers $20 per acre-foot to recover the costs associated with the water’s conveyance – but not for the water itself. Consequently, to legally increase agricultural water rates, the IID must prove higher service expenses through a formal cost-of-service study, issue a 45-day advance notice to landowners, and then begin the “majority protest” process. Because water, sewer, and refuse collection fees are legally classified as “property-related fees,” the Imperial Irrigation District board could pass the rate increase automatically unless a majority of affected stakeholders vote “no” by submitting written protests.7 In this context the “affected stakeholders” are the legal landowners of the agricultural parcels that are subject to the water fee, and the ratepayers, tenants, or farmers who are directly responsible for paying the water bill under their lease terms. 8
However the cost of these (very successful) conservation measures – especially the cost of paying farmers to fallow some of their fields, are very high: about $250 million per year (or $300-450 per acre foot depending on conservation practices used). Given how Western water laws work, and the addition of Proposition 218, that is currently the most feasible and the most immediate path to water conservation in the Colorado River system.
A lower cost, more sustainable solution would require changing the rules that guarantee specific volumes of water at only the cost of conveyance to farmers across the basin. That will be a challenging transition, and will probably require federal legislation to be achieved.
Saguaro cactus in Southern Arizona. Image provided by Storyblocks.
The forecasted “Super El Niño” is expected to delay the start of Southern Arizona’s monsoonal season but by August it could trigger heavier, more intense rainfall, severe flash flooding, and unusually high humidity during its peak. While El Niño historically weakens global monsoons, its impact on the Desert Southwest creates unique atmospheric shifts for the June 15 to September 30 season.1 Climate experts from the National Weather Service and the University of Arizona predict the season will unfold across three distinct phases: 2
A DELAYED AND DRIER ONSET
Early in the summer, El Niño’s atmospheric patterns alter the subtropical jet stream, creating persistent westerly winds across the Southwest.
Moisture Suppression: These westerlies act as a wall, driving out early moisture from the south and delaying the typical shift to monsoonal wind patterns.
Increased Fire Risk: A slower, drier start to the monsoon prolongs the summer dry spell, elevating the risk of wildfire ignition from dry lightning storms.
HIGH-INTENSITY PEAK (August into September)
Tropical Cyclone Activity: The incredibly warm ocean temperatures of a Super El Niño fuel severe hurricane activity off the Pacific coast of Mexico.
Tropical Moisture Pumps: While the hurricanes themselves rarely hit Southern Arizona directly, they act as massive atmospheric pumps, steering heavy tropical moisture straight into the Desert Southwest.
Rain Bombs and Flooding: As this extra moisture collides with the desert heat, it increases the likelihood of high-intensity storms, widespread flash flooding, severe dust storms, and heavy rainfall that could reach up to 150% of normal averages in some areas.
A SHIFT TO MOIST HEAT (after September)
High Humidity: Southern Arizona is famous for its dry heat, but the influx of Pacific moisture will cause humidity levels to skyrocket.
Stubbornly High Temperatures: Even with localized cloud cover and rain mitigating the most extreme temperature spikes, daily highs will remain brutally hot—frequently ranging between 100°F and 115°F. The added moisture will result in a heavy, oppressive “moist heat” rather than a dry one.
April 2023 photograph showing the Colorado River as it enters Lake Mead. Photograph by Robert Marcos.
By Robert Marcos, photojournalist
Arizona, California, and Nevada are actively preparing for a future that may provide little or no Colorado River water through a combination of aggressive local conservation, infrastructure changes, and unprecedented collective agreements. On May 1st – driven by the imminent expiration of current river guidelines, the states finalized a joint Water Stabilization Plan to collectively slash usage by up to 3.2 million acre feet. J.B. Hamby, the Chairman of the Colorado River Board of California, said, “We’re putting forward additional measurable water contributions for the system. Without that, the system will continue to decline.” 1
ARIZONA: Agricultural sacrifices and groundwater banking
Arizona holds the lowest-priority water rights among the major Lower Basin states, which means that it takes the earliest and deepest cuts during shortages.2 Under multi-state and federal plans, Arizona has offered up to 760,000 acre-feet in voluntary reductions, nearly half of what typically flows through the Central Arizona Project canal.3 Central Arizona agriculture has borne the brunt of these reductions. In counties like Pinal, farmers have already been forced to operate at half their normal capacity, switching to high-tech drip irrigation or leaving fields fallow. 4
The state is shifting heavily toward managing its underground aquifers, heavily regulating new real estate developments that cannot prove a 100-year assured water supply independent of dwindling surface flows.
An article in the Manataba Messenger said, “In Phoenix, city leaders are getting ready for the possibility of Colorado River cuts by checking out alternative water sources and long-term reserves. Phoenix relies on several water sources, including the Colorado River through the Central Arizona Project. As future reductions become more likely, the city’s planning mirrors a broader trend across the Southwest: big cities are no longer seeing Colorado River shortages as just a distant threat. They’re preparing for a future where less river water might be available, and backup supplies might be needed to keep up with demand.” 5
CALIFORNIA: Agricultural efficiency and urban recycling
As the largest consumer of the river’s water, California has historically avoided the earliest shortage cuts, but now it has begun to force its massive agricultural districts to adapt to having less water.6 The Imperial Irrigation District which rceives 3.1 million acre feet of Colorado River water every year, is expanding its efficiency programs. On January 20th the IID Board of Directors approved the continuation of the District’s Deficit Irrigation Program for 2026. This program motives local growers to voluntarily pause irrigation on select perennial forage crops (such as alfalfa, Bermuda grass, and Klein grass) during peak summer water use windows. Growers are then financially compensated for their reduced crop yields.7
On May 15th the IID Board of Directors announced an amendment that would leave an additional 100,000 acre feet of Colorado River water in Lake Mead. The amendment increased the IID’s existing three-year conservation agreement capacity from 700,000 acre-feet to 800,000 acre-feet, in addition to the 106,111 AF conserved for Lake Mead in 2023. Cumulatively these programs are slated to add about 12 feet of elevation to Lake Mead by the end of the year.8
TheMetropolitan Water District of Southern California, is investing billions of dollars into advanced local wastewater purification systems to reduce coastal cities’ reliance on imported river water –
Pure Water Southern California: MWD has partnered with the Los Angeles County Sanitation Districts to develop Pure Water Southern California, aiming to produce up to 150 million gallons of recycled water daily for 15 million people. MWD has allocated $150 million within its capital investment plan for the planning and final design of the project’s first stage, and has financed and operates a 500,000-gallon-per-day demonstration facility (the Grace F. Napolitano Innovation Center) to test advanced purification techniques before full scale construction.9
The Local Resources Program: MWD has provided financial subsidies to its 26 member public and private water agencies based on the volume of recycled water they successfully produced, and it has invested over $1.5 billion since 1990 to support more than 100 localized recycling and groundwater recovery projects across Southern California. Additionally, the MWD funds localized conversions, such as transforming unused sewer lift stations into active recycling plants for urban irrigation.10
Commercial and Research Grants: MWD has awarded grants to public and private entities to evaluate next-generation water-saving devices and urban reuse technologies. It has funded studies on innovative Membrane Bioreactors that are paired with reverse osmosis to reduce the energy and financial costs of recycling wastewater.11
NEVADA: Focused on a new lower-lake pipeline and a war on turf
Nevada has the smallest allocation of the river but is widely considered to have established a blueprint for urban climate adaptation, having spent decades in preparation for the kind of low-water scenario the Southwestern US is now facing. 12
Low Lake Level Infrastructure: Nevada’s water manager, the Southern Nevada Water Authority has completed a “third” intake and a specialized low-level pumping station at Lake Mead. This will allow Las Vegas to continue drawing water even if Lake Mead drops below the deadpool level where water can no longer flow downstream to California and Arizona.13
A War on Turf: Nevada has passed strict laws mandating the removal of “non-functional turf” (decorative grass) at commercial, multi-family, and government properties. It also bans outdoor water features and prohibits new grass in future developments. 14
Indoor Water Recycling: Las Vegas treats and returns nearly 100% of its indoor wastewater back to Lake Mead. This cycle earns the state “return-flow credits,” stretching its small allocation significantly further than other states. 15
The 123-mile long Coachella Canal carries Colorado River from the All-American Canal to the Coachella Valley. Photo by Robert Marcos.
Southern California’s Coachella Valley includes the cities of Palm Springs, Palm Desert. Rancho Mirage, Indian Wells and Indio. It is a hot, dry, low-desert region that nonetheless supports 100 to 120 commercial farms, 120 golf courses, dozens of world-class resorts and one of the nation’s highest rates of per capita water use.1 The Coachella Valley sustains this (artificially) verdant environment with imported water from two sources: 430,000 acre feet of Colorado River water that’s diverted at the Imperial Dam and then conveyed by the Coachella Canal, and 194,000 acre feet of water from California’s State Water Project – but only if there’s sufficient snowpack in the Sierra Nevada mountains.
Both sources of imported water arrive via the Coachella Canal and the majority of it’s used by farms and by aquifer replenishment programs. The remainder is used by golf courses and for the irrigation of commercial landscaping. Municipal water (for residents and businesses) is pumped from the Coachella Valley Groundwater Basin – an aquifer that at one time contained an estimated 39.2 million acre-feet of water, just in its upper 1,000 feet. Municipal water users, who consumed 5.6% more water in 2025 than they did in the previous year,3 natural recharge from rainfall and runoff currently provides about 21,000 acre-feet per year2. So without the imported replenishment water the basin would plunge into an immediate and severe deficit. Water tables would drop rapidly in historically vulnerable zones like the East Valley and Palm Springs.3
This scenario is alarming for a variety of reasons –
The Colorado River is rapidly become unreliable as a source of water.4 Since both sources of imported water depend upon the Coachella Canal for delivery, 100% of the imported water will stop flowing just days after Lake Mead reaches deadpool. Again – not one drop of the imported water that the Coachella Valley depends upon will arrive in the Coachella Valley if that water can’t make it past Hoover Dam. A second, albeit less-likely danger is the known fact that the Coachella Canal crosses over the San Andreas Fault.4
Cheap water encourages farmers to grow water-intensive crops. Coachella Valley farmers who obtain raw irrigation water directly from the Coachella Canal can pay as little as $40.14 per acre foot. This cheap water encourages farmers to grow profitable but water-intensive crops – like alfalfa.5
Municipal water use in the Coachella Valley is increasing. Instead of the Valley’s water consumption falling – as we’ve seen in almost every other Southwestern municipality, the Coachella Valley’s municipal water use continues to increase due to a rising population and an increase in the irrigation of crops and landscaping due to climate change. On April 15, 2026 The Indio Post reported that urban water use – which includes municipal customers, golf courses, and other recreational users, climbed by 12,989 acre-feet, or 5.8% compared to the previous year.
The Thomas E. Levy Groundwater Replenishment Facility is one of four replenishment facilities operated by CVWD. Photo by Robert Marcos
Challenge #1 – Maintaining groundwater levels
The Coachella Valley Water District and four other water agencies have been doing their best to maintain groundwater levels through the use of groundwater replenishment facilities. These programs are designed to reverse decades of aquifer overdraft and ensure long-term water sustainability. By percolating 165,000 acre feet a year of imported water directly into the ground, the districts have successfully stabilized and even raised groundwater levels in historically depleted areas. But what has been left unsaid is that both sources of imported water – the Colorado River and the State Water Project, both use the same conveyance and both are under severe long-term threat from climate change. Therefore Coachella Valley’s water districts have to plan for the day when they have no sources of imported water, and will have to depend entirely on groundwater.5
Challenge #2 – Convincing residents to use less water
Individuals living in the Coachella Valley city of Bermuda Dunes consume between 217 and 380 gallons of water a day.6 While residents of Rancho Mirage, Palm Desert, Thousand Palms, Indian Wells, La Quinta, and Thermal consumed an average of 188 gallons of water per day. And residents of the Desert Water Agency, which serves Palm Springs and Cathedral City, used an average of 178 gallons of water per day.7 The residents of other comparably-sized desert cities use far less water. On average residents of Tucson use as little as 72 gallons a day, residents of Phoenix 92 gallons, and residents of Albuquerque use just 56 gallons per day.
While the Coachella Valley relies entirely on imported Colorado River water to recharge its aquifers, and loops recycled water back to its farms and golf courses, other Southwestern desert cities have shifted to advanced purification technology that recycles100% of their wastewater directly back into municipal drinking supplies. In the Arizona cities of Phoenix, Glendale, Mesa, Scottsdale, and Tempe, they treat the recycled water to high standards so it can be used to irrigate sports fields, golf courses, commercial landscapes, and create or restore riparian habitats. It is also used to recharge aquifers and stored underground for use during times of shortage. Recycled water can extend water supplies, improve water quality, reduce discharge and disposal costs of wastewater, and save energy.8
Challenge #3 – Preparing for “Day Zero” when the Coachella Valley receives no more Colorado River water
If the current drought continues and Lake Powell reaches dead pool, it’s estimated that Lake Mead will also reach dead pool within two-to-four years. This means that absolutely no Colorado River water pass beyond Hoover Dam and into the lower Colorado River basin. The Colorado River Aqueduct, the All-American Canal, and the Coachella Canal would be shut down. In this worst-case scenario, the Coachella Valley would survive by pumping from its underground aquifer, though this would immediately trigger a severe, unsustainable deficit. Because the region averages only 3 inches of rainfall annually, its primary long-term buffer would be exhausted without Colorado River and SWA water being available to replenish it.9 To prevent the aquifer from going dry, the State of California would likely enforce extreme water rationing, ban all outdoor ornamental landscaping, and trigger a massive, forceddownsizing of the local agricultural sector. 10
Why not do some of these things now instead of waiting until the Colorado River has dried up?
Anthropogenic objects suspended in strata, as described by the author and then brought into reality by Google’s Nano Banana 2
by Robert Marcos, photojournalist
If Lake Powell ever dries up completely scientists excavating the exposed reservoir floor will uncover a massive, human-made geological record known as anthropogenic stratigraphy. This towering wall of trapped sediment, which already reaches up to 150 feet thick in some areas, acts like an open book detailing the history of Lake Powell. Researchers will find a distinct, repeating pattern of cyclic sand-mud interbeds that chronicle the reservoir’s seasonal fluctuations and regional hydroclimate. The thick layers of coarse sand will mark rapid, powerful depositional events fueled by annual spring snowmelt and dramatic upstream floods. Conversely, the alternating bands of thinly laminated, fine-grained lacustrine mud will reveal prolonged periods of high water levels when the reservoir was full and the currents slowed, allowing the finest suspended particles to settle to the canyon floor.1
Beneath this structural rhythm, a geochemical analysis will expose a darker record of the West’s industrial and agricultural history. Because the dam permanently trapped Colorado River sediments that once flowed naturally to the sea, the dry lakebed will serve as a containment sink for concentrated toxins and heavy metals. Geologists and environmental scientists will encounter dense pockets of arsenic, lead, selenium, boron, and mercury swept down from upstream agricultural runoff and legacy mining districts. Most notably, the layers will hold chemical fingerprints from historical events like the 2015 Gold King mine spill and the submerged yellowcake uranium mill tailings pile near Hite. As water levels vanish, these hazardous materials will remain bound to the platy clay aggregates and iron oxide coatings of the sediment, posing a significant risk of toxic dust storms if re-mobilized by the wind.2
Finally, the deepest trenching will reveal a stark ecological and physical boundary line: the pre-dam canyon floor. At the very base of the mud, scientists will strike an erosional surface composed of native boulders, coarse river gravels, and heavily weathered sandstone that directly predates 1963. Preserved just above this bedrock, researchers will find an anaerobic time capsule of organic debris. This includes preserved strands of invasive tamarisk and Russian thistle, ancient cottonwood fragments, and dense layers of decaying organic matter that once starved the deep reservoir of oxygen. By using advanced tools like X-ray diffraction, environmental DNA (eDNA), and scanning electron microscopy, scientists will be able to reconstruct the precise timeline of how human engineering completely transformed, and ultimately choked, a vibrant desert river ecosystem.3
Photograph of Iron Mountain Pumping Plant by Jet Lowe. Provided by the U.S. Library of Congress
The 85-year old Colorado River Aqueduct – which was constructed over a 8-year period beginning in 1933, is a major water conveyance system that brings 1.2 billion gallons of Colorado River water to Southern California every day. The aqueduct was paid for by voters in 13 Southern California cities who overwhelmingly approved a $220 million municipal bond in order to finance the monumental construction project. Managed by the Metropolitan Water District of Southern California, the aqueduct stretches 242 miles across the Colorado and Mojave deserts, tunnels under two mountain ranges, and rises a total of 1,617 feet in elevation from its starting point downstream of Parker Dam near Lake Havasu.1
Photograph of canal and adjacent sand filters at Iron Mountain. Photograph by Jet Lowe. Picture provided by the U.S. Library of Congress
Numerous engineering features mark the aqueduct, including dams, reservoirs, pumping plants, tunnels, canals, conduits, inverted siphons, and transmission lines. Each of these parts works together to provide what was determined to be the most efficient, cost-etfectlve, and safe combination of transporting water from the Colorado River to the southern California coastal basin. The aqueduct has always been much more than just a canal. Its engineering coincided with American during the Depression-era, when the appearance and promotion of technological “progress” provided the American public with a sense of accomplishment and pride. During its construction the aqueduct provided jobs for 35,000 people for over eight years.
Headgate house at the Iron Mountain Pumping Plant, photographed by Jet Lowe. Provided by the Library of Congress.
The combination of the total height that water is lifted (1,617′) and the aqueduct’s 242-mile length was unprecedented, as was the aqueduct’s carrying capacity of 1,605 c.f.s. The vertical synchronous motors driving the pumps were the largest of these types of motors then constructed. The difficulties encountered during the construction of the Mt. San Jacinto tunnel received national attention, and engineers argued that it was one of the most difficult tunnel construction jobs undertaken in the history of world engineering. Some of the equipment introduced and engineering techniques employed during the aqueduct’s construction overall were celebrated for their ingenuity and ability to set standards for future projects of similar magnitude. The Parker diversion dam had to be erected upon bedrock 233′ deep, which at the time made it the world’s deepest. The Colorado River Aqueduct overall was the world’s most technologically-advanced water conveyance system, and it has proven its reliability by serving the needs of 19 million Southern California residents for the last 85 years.
In a letter published by Environmental Research Letters, Andrew Berardy and Mikhail V. Chester of Arizona State University examined the agricultural and beef industry’s dependency upon water and power. Athough their research was focused the effects of climate change in Arizona, their findings could be applied almost anywhere in the American Southwest.
“Arizona’s predominately irrigated agriculture relies on water imported through an energy intensive process from water-stressed regions. Most irrigation in Arizona is electrically powered, so failures in either energy or water systems can cascade to the food system, creating a food-energy-water nexus of vulnerability.” Using data provided by the USDA, the U.S. Geological Survey, Arizona crop budgets and region-specific literature, the two scientists predicted that a temperature increase above the baseline could decrease yields by up to 12.2% per 1° centigrade for major Arizona crops and would require increased irrigation of about 2.6% per 1° centigrade.1
Modern agricultural production is made possible by systems working together to deliver energy and water resources necessary to provide a reliable food supply. This interdependency creates the food-energy-water nexus. Arizona is a major agricultural producer, supplying considerable animal feed, livestock, milled grain products, meat, and other food products to cities throughout the U.S.
Figure 1. Importance of agricultural exports from Arizona. This map displays the food related goods shipped from Arizona as a percentage of total food related goods shipped to each state in the freight category where that percentage is highest based on 2012 Freight Analysis Framework data (Center for Transportation Analysis 2016). Cities with 5% or more of a category imported from Arizona are labeled with an icon representing the freight category and labeled with the percent of that category they receive from Arizona out of their total imports of that category. For example, Los Angeles receives 22% of their Live Animals and Fish imports from Arizona.
The Phoenix region’s large volume of food related exports means that reduced yields would have a signifcant impact on overall export capacity for Arizona. The most significant food related exports are to cities near Arizona – including Los Angeles, San Diego, El Paso, and Las Vegas. Tucson receives 100% of its live animals and fish, 85% of its other agricultural products, 83% of its other foodstuffs, and 69% of its meat and seafood from within Arizona. Phoenix receives 87% of its other agricultural products, 73% of its animal feed, 57% of its cereal grains, 51% of its other foodstuffs, and 51% of its live animals and fish from within Arizona. Therefore, disruptions to the agricultural system in the greater Phoenix area would have both a local impact, and would be felt across the Southwest in California, Nevada, and Texas.2
Shocks and strains on energy and water production and delivery systems may result in failures which cascade to food systems. In addition, feedback loops across the nexus could create compounding vulnerabilities, as failures in one system may propagate to another. Potential disruptions such as population growth, climate change, and interruptions to energy and water supply cause problems in food, energy, and water systems that combine and cascade to have downstream impacts on food supply and farm viability, which feed back into population growth in an iterative cycle.
Farms with diminished yields by cause. In 2013, Arizona farms reporting reduced yields attributed them primarily to water shortage and irrigation equipment failure, while the cost of water or energy shortage and price increases accounted for most of the remaining diminished yields (Vilsack and Reilly 2014). Arizona farms relied on irrigation for 100% of their total sales and 419 farms discontinued irrigation in 2013 (Vilsack and Reilly 2014).
Climate change already has significant negative impacts on agriculture in the United States, causing substantial economic costs and raising serious questions about the vulnerability of food supply chain3. The Southwest is especially challenged due its rapidly increasing population, changing land use and land cover, limited water supplies, and long-term drought4. Arizona is largely a semi-arid desert receiving only 20.4 cm of rain across only 36 days per year on average and with an average yearly temperature of 24° centigrade. Despite a resulting reliance on imported water andsprawling housing developmentsreducing available arable land, Arizona has a strong agricultural history and significant specialty crop production.5 The strain of irrigation required for agriculture is manifested in crop losses for Arizona farmers, as reflected in figure 3, showing key drivers of yield loss as water shortage, water costs, energy costs, and equipment failure. In 2013 these problems affected about 15% of irrigated farmland in Arizona.
Failures in the Arizona food-energy-water nexus could cause disruptions throughout the Southwest as food supply chains for urban centers like El Paso, Los Angeles, and San Diego shift. There is also the potential for cascading impacts because these cities have their own exports which might be disrupted. As cities throughout the Southwest look to meet their own needs, there may be a significant change in food supply across the region. Regardless of potential systematic failures and reductions in crop yields, it is very likely that consumptive water use will increase as average temperature increases. Sustainable food supplies in Phoenix and Tucson, as well as other agriculturally productive regions of the Southwest, will require a greater amount of water drawn from sources that are already strained.
A mini-sandstorm partially obscures the Bullfrog Marina on Lake Powell. Dropping reservoir levels are forcing officials to move the marina to a deeper part of the lake. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Maybe sitting next to the wall of plate glass windows was not the smartest move, I thought, as a sienna-colored cloud of sand lifted up from the lakeside and made its way in my direction. I had just tucked into my $16 grilled chicken sandwich at the Anasazi Restaurant at Bullfrog Marina on Lake Powell when the wind kicked up, sandblasting the windows and causing a sizable milk crate to slide back and forth along the railings of the patio outside. It was an eerie scene. Had this been an apocalyptic cli-fi film set in a calamitously aridified West, this would have been the moment when a pterodactyl-like creature smashed through the window and plopped down all bloody and sandy in my plate of fries, an omen of the horrors to come.
It was not, however, a film. The dystopian scene was real as was the aridification, though it did not include any prehistoric creatures — only a handful of staff and other diners who, much to my dismay, seemed utterly unperturbed by the sandstorm and the havoc it was wreaking on a set of outdoor furniture. And, outside, a few ravens who seemed delighted to frolic in the gusts’ updrafts.
When we think of climate change’s effects, we might imagine communities inundated by rising seas, unhoused folks exposed to ever more severe heat waves, or entire towns wiped out by megafires. I was here at Bullfrog to see how a warmer and drier climate is affecting the communities, infrastructure, and economies that rose up around and depend upon Lake Powell-based recreation.
Bullfrog is the largest and most extensive marina on Lake Powell’s northern end. It has a 48-room hotel, the aforementioned restaurant, a gas station and convenience store, an RV park, and other lodging, along with its own school, which this year had four students in grades K-6. The population of some 50 to 100 consists mostly of employees of the National Park Service and Aramark, the private concessionaire that runs the reservoir’s marinas and other facilities. Nearby Ticaboo, which lies outside Glen Canyon National Recreation Area but also relies on Lake Powell recreation, has another 50 to 100 residents. The nearest incorporated town is Hanksville, some 67 miles to the north.
Bullfrog Creek along the southern end of the Burr Trail and Bullfrog Bay on Lake Powell in the distance. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Bullfrog lies at the end of the road on a bay at the mouth of Bullfrog Creek, where the water is shallower than on the main channel of the Colorado River, making the marina and its facilities more vulnerable to dropping water levels. While the main boat ramp is still being used, it will likely become unusable later this summer as the reservoir’s surface levels falls toward 3,500 feet. In coming weeks, the entire floating marina will be towed across the reservoir to deeper water adjacent to Halls Crossing Marina; Bullfrog’s fuel and boat rental docks have already been moved. The ferry between Bullfrog and Halls Crossing isn’t functional at low water levels, so is expected to be out of commission for the rest of this year, making for a 145-mile car trip between the facilities at Bullfrog and the boat ramps and marina at Halls Crossing.
I visited Bullfrog on a Sunday in mid-May. Because I needed to do some internet-related work early on Monday morning, I stayed in the hotel. I initially regretted not staying in the campground, since it was mostly empty and had a strong cell phone signal, but when the tent-shredding winds and skin blasting sands kicked up I was happy to be ensconced in more secure lodging, especially given the relatively reasonable price.
It was the high tourist season elsewhere in Canyon Country. The trailhead parking lots at Capitol Reef National Park were all full or overflowing that morning as I drove through, and Torrey had been busy during my stay there for a writing conference. As I slowly made my way down the Notom Road and Burr Trail, stopping frequently to gaze at the curves and crevices in the Waterpocket Fold and for a quick bike ride, I saw maybe a half-dozen other vehicles.
Waterpocket Fold. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Waterpocket Fold detail. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Bullfrog, meanwhile, was decidedly quiet. The hotel was nearly empty. Only a few sites in the RV park were occupied, and I later saw that most of the sites were out of order and closed. A couple of dozen cars, at the very most, were parked on the only operable boat ramp. The shelves on the little convenience store were sparsely stocked, and a box of Triscuits was going for $7.50 — though there was no cheese to accompany them — and gas was selling for $5.17. In May of 2000, the Bullfrog District received 33,000 visits, according to National Park Service statistics; in May 2025 only 10,886 visitors passed through the entrance gate. Current numbers aren’t yet available, but I imagine this year’s visitation will be far lower. And once the boat ramp ceases to function, I imagine the numbers will plummet further.
Boats, redrock, and snowy Henry Mountains at Bullfrog Marina. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
The National Park Service is planning to build a new, deeper-water boat launch at Stanton Creek, a couple of miles from central Bullfrog, where the marina can be moved permanently. The project is expected to cost some $73 million, and won’t be completed this year. It’s a type of climate adaptation, I suppose, though one can’t help wonder how long the fix will last if the reservoir’s levels keep dropping.
Meanwhile, Bullfrog’s future is in doubt. A series of especially snowy winters in the high country might be enough to bring Bullfrog back from the edge of obsolescence. Maybe they won’t even need the Stanton Creek site. On the other hand, just one more below-average snowpack year could doom Lake Powell altogether. If Colorado River flows don’t increase substantially in the next year or two, the Bureau of Reclamation will have little choice but to build tunnels to bypass Glen Canyon Dam and effectively drain the reservoir in order to keep water running into the Grand Canyon and on to Lake Mead.
The question then would be whether Bullfrog could (or would even want to) adapt to a different sort of tourism.
The place might try to cater to hikers and small-watercraft users looking to check out newly revealed parts of Glen Canyon that have been inundated for the last several decades. And it could lure travelers exploring the greater region’s backcountry, though it’s not clear that type of visitor is going to be interested in the type of accommodations and services Bullfrog currently offers. Maybe it will just become a destination for disaster-tourist voyeurs looking to see the effects of climate change in real-time. Or, perhaps Bullfrog will become another Hite Marina, which the shrinking reservoir has left high and dry, its boat ramp separated from the lake by some six miles, the store and campground permanently shuttered and gated off.
Sightseers at Hite Overlook gazing down at the “Dominy Formation” of silt left behind by the receding waters of Lake Powell. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Hite Marina and boat ramp on what once was the northern end of Lake Powell. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
The last time I visited Bullfrog was in the late 1980s. My dad, my brother, and I camped at Halls Crossing, then woke up and rode the ferry across the lake. From there we made an epic loop around and over the Henry Mountains along the then-unimproved Burr Trail and another gnarly road in our 1967 Pontiac Catalina. It took at least eight hours and involved some extensive road-building to keep the boat-like vehicle from bottoming out. Anyway, I remember Bullfrog as being a bustling resort with a sort of spring break party vibe, relative to the more bare-bones Halls Crossing. Of course, those were the glory days for Lake Powell, when the reservoir was full, and at the end of a bone-jarring drive across the desert one could stop at the Hite Marina for refreshments.
That night I listened to the sand batter the sliding glass door of my hotel room. The next morning, the reservoir’s placid waters reflected dawn’s first light, and the distant sandstone dunes seemed to glow from within. And to the north, a fresh coating of snow covered the craggy slopes of the Henry Mountains, promising a little bit of relief from these dry and trying times.
Henry Mountains. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
📸 Parting Shots 🎞️
Early light, the Colorado River canyon, and the Henry Mountains from the White Canyon drainage. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Apache Plume and canyon in Utah. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Insulators at an electrical substation. Image provided by Storyblocks.
by Robert Marcos
Most of us might assume that our monthly utility bills are slowly paying off the power grid, but the reality is that the electrical grid is a financial treadmill that never actually stops. This constant cycle of compounding interest, depreciation, and emergency retrofits means that the grid is never truly paid off; instead, consumers are locked into an endless loop of funding an aging asset that falls deeper into debt with every necessary upgrade.1
Energy lost during transmission: In the United States about 5% of generated electricity is lost during transmission and distribution, though some sources put the figure closer to 6–7% depending on how the losses are defined and measured.2
Physical Vulnerabilities: Critical substations are often located in extremely remote locations and are only protected by basic chain-link fences.
Threat of Electro-magnetic Pulse: Solar storms and high-altitude atomic detonations could knock out a power grid by inducing massive electrical currents in transmission lines that might overload and permanently destroy critical high-voltage transformers.
Sniper and Ballistic Attacks: Attackers can easily target and puncture fluid-filled high-voltage transformers from a distance.
The benefit of generating power where it’s needed
Generating power where it is consumed significantly reduces transmission losses that occur over long-distance power lines. In conventional centralized systems, electricity can lose a notable percentage of its energy as heat while traveling across vast grid networks. By producing electricity locally—through distributed energy resources such as rooftop solar, microturbines, or small-scale wind—these losses are minimized, resulting in greater overall system efficiency and more effective use of generated energy.3
Localized power generation also enhances grid resilience and reliability, particularly in regions vulnerable to extreme weather, wildfires, or infrastructure strain. Decentralized systems can operate independently or in microgrids, allowing critical facilities and communities to maintain power during outages that would otherwise disrupt centralized systems. This distributed approach reduces dependence on a single point of failure and supports faster recovery during emergencies.4
In addition, generating power at the point of use can provide economic and environmental advantages by aligning energy production with local needs and resources. It enables the integration of renewable energy sources tailored to regional conditions, reduces the need for costly transmission infrastructure, and can lower energy costs over time. For communities, businesses, and utilities, this approach supports cleaner energy adoption while fostering greater control over energy consumption and sustainability goals.5
AI generated image created by Google’s Nano Banana 2
by Robert Marcos, photojournalist
We’ve heard thousands of times (without sources being provided) that 40 million people are dependent upon Colorado River water. But which cities in the American Southwest are 100% dependentand would vanish without it?
YUMA ARIZONA
Yuma, Arizona, relies on the Colorado River for allof its municipal drinking water and is heavily tied to the river for its massive agricultural economy. Yuma has a population of 103,500 permanent residents which share a Colorado River water entitlement of 980,000 acre feet: 97% of which is used for agriculture and the remaining 3% is allocated for domestic, commercial, and military operations – such as those at the U.S. Army Yuma Proving Ground. Yuma conserves its water through high-tech agricultural irrigation, extensive canal automation, municipal restrictions, and wastewater recycling. Despite being a major agricultural hub, local farmers have reduced water usage by nearly 20% while doubling food production over the last three decades.
Agriculture & Irrigation
With agriculture accounting for the vast majority of water use, Yuma’s agricultural sector employs cutting-edge conservation techniques: 1
Automated & Advanced Irrigation: Farmers utilize furrow, sprinkler, and drip systems optimized for specific crops. Irrigation districts are rolling out autonomous systems with remote-controlled canal gates to deliver water in real-time and eliminate excess diversion.
Precision Technology: Fields are leveled using GPS and laser technology, which minimizes runoff and waste.
Concrete-Lined Canals: Over 99% of farmer-owned ditches and irrigation networks are lined with concrete or buried as underground pipelines to eliminate seepage.
Municipal & City Efforts
The City of Yuma actively manages its municipal supply through strict conservation and drought response plans.2
Landscape Restrictions: The city encourages residents to adopt desert landscaping and transition away from water-heavy turf. Residents are advised to water only between 7 p.m. and 7 a.m. to prevent evaporation.
City Facilities: During declared water shortages, the city limits operations of water features, reduces winter grass overseeding, and limits facility water use.
Wastewater Recycling: The city recycles about 40% of its treated municipal water, which is safely discharged back into the environment to recharge the local aquifer and supply the Colorado River.
GREEN RIVER, WYOMING
As of 2026, the city of Green River, Wyoming had an estimated population of 11,307 people. The city itself does not hold an independent interstate water right; instead, its water use is governed by Wyoming’s state allocation within the broader “Law of the River” framework. Under the Upper Colorado River Basin Compact of 1948, the State of Wyoming is entitled to 14.00% of the total Upper Basin water allocation. This translates to a maximum full-supply entitlement of 1,043,000 acre-feet of water per year, the vast majority of which is sourced from the Green River basin.3
The city of Green River, Wyoming manages water conservation through modernized infrastructure, rigorous system auditing, and targeted wastewater recycling, operating in tandem with broader basin-wide conservation blueprints. Because Wyoming faces growing pressure to safeguard its Upper Colorado River Basin share, local municipal initiatives focus heavily on eliminating system losses and maximizing structural efficiency.4
Advanced Infrastructure and Metering
Universal Municipal Metering: The City of Green River Water Distribution department actively maintains over 4,200 water meters across commercial and residential lines. Universal metering prevents unmonitored usage and allows for exact data tracking to optimize conservation modeling.
Pressure Management: The distribution team actively manages 25 Pressure Reducing Valves (PRVs). Maintaining controlled water pressure minimizes stress on pipes, directly preventing underground ruptures and chronic structural leaks.
System Leaks and Audits: The city continuously updates its sanitary, stormwater, and water line mapping to execute aggressive leak detection and repair protocols.5
LAKE HAVASU, ARIZONA
Lake Havasu, Arizona, has a permanent population of 59,871 and is entitled to 28,582 acre feet of Colorado River water, annually. The city employs a multi-faceted approach to water management:6
Advanced Wastewater Recycling: The city operates three wastewater treatment plants that produce A+ quality reclaimed water. This recycled water is used to irrigate local golf courses and parks instead of draining fresh drinking water supplies, and the surplus is safely returned to the Colorado River for downstream use.
Advanced Metering Infrastructure (AMI): Lake Havasu is replacing approximately 32,000 residential water meters with smart technology. This system provides near real-time usage data and leak detection alerts via the EyeOnWater Platform, allowing residents to quickly spot and fix running toilets or plumbing leaks.
Mandatory and Voluntary Measures: The city’s conservation plan includes guidelines that limit non-essential uses like irrigation and prevent water waste. Residents are encouraged to water early in the morning to reduce evaporation and use mulch to lock in soil moisture.
BULLHEAD CITY, ARIZONA
Bullhead City Arizona has a permanent population of 43,200 and an annual entitlement to 15,210 acre feet of Colorado River water. Bullhead City, Arizona, actively combats Colorado River water shortages through phased municipal codes. Key actions include:7
Phased Restrictions: The city’s code outlines voluntary rules for Tier 1 shortages (fixing leaks, taking shorter showers), which escalate to mandatory bans on misting systems, decorative fountains, and driveway washing during Tier 2 shortages.
Turf Reduction Programs: Bullhead City offers rebates for replacing high-water-use grass with desert landscaping. The city also partners with local HOAs, using state grants to fund large-scale grass removal and park revitalization projects.
Device Rebates: The city provides direct financial incentives for residents and businesses to install smart irrigation controllers, high-efficiency toilets, washing machines, and hot water recirculation systems.
Aquifer Injection: The city recovers effluent (reclaimed water) at the Section 10 Wastewater Treatment Plant, injecting it into the Colorado River aquifer to ensure it is returned to the Colorado River system as return flow.8
Fresh snow frosts the Henry Mountains in southern Utah on May 18, 2026, as seen from Bullfrog Marina on Lake Powell. A mid-May heat spell, when the mercury topped out at nearly 100° F in Bluff, Utah, finished off the high-mountain snowpack and caused many streams to hit peak runoff on May 15 and 16. But on May 17 and 18 a fast-moving storm moved through and dumped snow in some places and brought temperatures down considerably. While it wasn’t enough to appreciably boost streamflows, it did provide some nice relief and seemed to subdue the desert gnats, at least for a while. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
When the scorching late March heat wave came for what little was left of the meagre snowpack, I was almost certain that it would cause rivers to hit their peak spring runoff levels in early April. That would have been the earliest spring runoff on record and a grim omen for the rest of the summer. Most of the contestants in this year’s predict-the-peak contest apparently had the same idea.
Luckily, we were proven wrong, in most cases: A series of spring storms and successive cold spells in April and even May managed to slow the melt and push the peak to a more reasonable mid-May date. A later runoff means streamflows will subside later, stretching out the irrigating and reservoir-filling season just a little bit longer.
There were exceptions, including the San Miguel River, which hit its spring high flow on April 2. And the Dolores River, which peaked at an absurdly early date of March 26. These both drain the western side of the San Juan Mountains, which apparently bore the brunt of the crappy winter. Still, even those rivers had a sort of second run-off season.
Here are the numbers for our contest rivers, followed by the streamflow and snowpack graphs:
The Animas River in Durango, Colorado: After topping out at 1,010 cubic feet per-second on March 27, the Animas came back and peaked on May 15 at 1,460 cfs.
The San Miguel River at Uravan, Colorado: The river hit 400 cfs on April 2, plummeted to just 63 cfs in late April, and then recovered for a second runoff and reaching 241 cfs on May 15.
The Yampa River near Maybell, Colorado: This river’s watershed got a bigger boost from the April storms than those further to the south, giving it a peak runoff of 3,480 cfs on May 16. This is the only river I’m hesitant to call, because the Upper Yampa watershed still has 2.8 inches of snow water equivalent, according to SNOTEL figures. If a temperature spike were to melt all of that at once, it could result in a larger peak.
San Juan River at Carracas, Colorado: The San Juan hit 1,090 cfs on April 2, which sure looked like the peak. But on May 15 it reached 1,140 cfs.
Nearly all of the contestants in the PtP contest chose April and even March dates for the peak, making the date part of the contest almost irrelevant. So I’m focusing on who was the closest on peak flows. And the winners are …
Animas (2 winners) 1. B Frank, with a guess of 1,468 cfs (wow! Only 8 cfs off) 2. Sharon Englehart, who guessed 1,500 cfs on June 1. While B Frank was closer in flow, Sharon was closer to the correct date.
San Miguel: Florence Paillard with a guess of 450 cfs
Yampa: B Frank again with 4,127 cfs
San Juan: J Harvey barely edges out B Frank with a guess of 850 cfs
So congratulations to B Frank, J Harvey, Florence Paillard, and Sharon Englehart! Please send your mailing address to landdesk@substack.com and I’ll send you your prizes.
🐟 Colorado River Chronicles 💧
Peak runoff on the Colorado River’s tributaries naturally flows down to the mainstem, as well, so long as there’s not a dam or other diversion preventing it from doing so. Unfortunately, however, the mid-May streamflow surges were barely discernible in the Colorado and San Juan rivers by the time they reached Lake Powell.
But Lake Powell did get a bit of a boost this month, only it wasn’t exactly “natural.” Lake Powell’s inflows jumped from as low as 3,500 cfs in late April to nearly 15,000 cfs on May 16. Yet more than 9,000 cfs of this can be attributed to extra releases from Flaming Gorge Reservoir on the Green River. That’s a lot of water coming down the river, and it did boost Lake Powell’s surface level by a whopping … half an inch or so.
Yikes.
Graph showing Flaming Gorge releases jumped from about 2,000 cfs to 9,000 cfs for about a week before dropping back down to the 1,200 cfs range. This was done to bolster Lake Powell’s levels and to help endangered fish.
The Flaming Gorge releases combined with tributary runoff to bring Lake Powell inflows up to 2025 levels for the same time of year. However, it is still far below the median level for May and there almost certainly will be no June surge.
🌵 Public Lands 🌲
On Monday, the GOP-dominated U.S. Senate confirmed Steven Pearce to lead the Bureau of Land Management and oversee some 245 million acres of public lands. Pearce, a right-wing ideologue, former congressman from New Mexico, and a one-time executive of an oilfield services company has long been hostile to the very idea of public lands.
Advocacy groups and Democratic lawmakers have responded to the move with outrage, shock, and dismay, and they have flooded my e-mailbox with claims that this confirmation represents an action that could “redefine public lands as we know them,” as one statement said, and will lead to the wholesale sell off of those same lands.
To be sure, Pearce is a terrible choice for the position, and by confirming him the GOP reinforced the fact that they are willing to sacrifice Americans’ lands and waters to stay on Trump’s good side. But had they rejected Pearce, the administration would simply pick someone who is equally atrocious, although maybe a little bit less open about it. Or maybe they wouldn’t nominate anyone at all, and instead illegally assign a perpetually acting director, as was the case during Trump’s first term with William Perry Pendley.
And even if the administration did nominate a career bureaucrat or someone more reasonable than Pearce, the fact remains: They would either carry out the Trump/Doug Burgum mission, which is to bring the agency back to the days of the Bureau of Livestock and Mining, or they’d be canned. Interior Secretary Doug Burgum was widely considered to be a strong and reasonable choice for that position — even garnering the endorsement of REI’s board of directors — and he has turned out to be one of the most extraction-friendly Interior secretaries in history. Indeed, the administration has already been doing a fairly thorough job of executing their plan without a confirmed BLM director, so why would Pearce make any bit of difference?
Trump’s election is what started redefining public lands. Pearce’s confirmation is just another step in the continued assault on the nation’s lands, air, water, and the communities that depend on them.
Over the past 16 months, the administration has leased out hundreds of thousands of acres of land to oil and gas companies, handed out drilling permits like lollipops at a bank, fast-tracked uranium mine permits, cut the public out of environmental reviews, opened up millions of acres to energy development, and transferred public lands — all without an official BLM director. And in the weeks leading up to Pearce’s confirmation, at least nine BLM state and associate state directors accepted the administration’s deferred resignation and buyout program. In other words, they jumped ship voluntarily, perhaps because they could see that it was sinking.
So far, the administration hasn’t shrunk any national monuments or tried any large-scale land selloffs, with the exception of conveying 1.4 million acres of land in the Dalton Utility Corridor to the state of Alaska. This was a unique situation in that it was done under the 1959 Alaska Statehood Act, which authorized the transfer of 105 million acres of public land to the state for economic development purposes (which, in Alaska, usually translates to oil and gas drilling). As we saw during his first term, Trump doesn’t need Pearce — or any BLM director at all — to diminish national monuments or transfer lands.
In other words, Pearce’s confirmation is just more of the same.
A railroad bridge crossing the dry Gila River. Photograph from Storyblocks.
The Gila River has served as one of the most historically significant waterways in the American Southwest. In 1540 the Coronado Expedition had to construct rafts in order to cross the swollen river, which stretches 649 miles across New Mexico and Arizona. The Gila River has acted as an agricultural lifeline, a changing geopolitical border, a crucial westward migration corridor, and the birthplace of America’s wilderness conservation movement.1
Four years ago I drove to Yuma and then turned north in order to reach the confluence of the Colorado and the Gila Rivers. After launching my drone my very first impression was that the Colorado River was flowing into the Gila, not the other way around. How could I tell? The Gila River was completely dry a half-mile east of the confluence.
Because of extensive upstream dams, irrigation canals, and city diversions feeding places like Phoenix and Tucson, the lower half of the 649-mile river is dried up completely. It typically becomes a dry, sandy riverbed long before reaching its natural confluence with the Colorado River near Yuma, Arizona.2
Ancient petroglyphs line the (former) Gila River shoreline at Sears Point, Arizona. Photograph by Robert Marcos.
Massive Upstream Diversions
The Gila River basin drains nearly 60,000 square miles. However, major structures like the Coolidge Dam and downstream diversion dams capture virtually all of its reliable surface water. The water is instead funneled into agricultural valleys and municipal pipes, leaving the final stretches of the riverbed barren.3
Rare Exceptions and Flooding
The Gila River only reaches the Colorado River during exceptional flood events. When massive winter snowmelt or powerful late-summer monsoons overwhelm upstream reservoirs, water must be released from the Painted Rock Dam. For example, historic wet winters have occasionally caused the Gila to violently discharge into the Colorado for brief periods, but these are anomalies rather than a steady, daily contribution.4
The “Reverse” Water Flow
Paradoxically, rather than the Gila supplying the Colorado River, the Colorado now supplies the Gila. Because Arizona over-drafted the Gila River system over the last century, the federal government built a massive 336-mile canal system. This canal actually pumps roughly 1.5 million acre-feet of water out of the Colorado River every year to supply the cities and farms sitting within the dry Gila River basin.5
Conservation Credits (Paper Water)
While the Gila River doesn’t add physical water to the Colorado, local entities actively help protect the Colorado River system through legal and conservation agreements. For instance, the Gila River Indian Community frequently signs landmark conservation deals with the U.S. government. They agree to leave large portions of their legal Colorado River water allocations untouched in Lake Mead to prop up dropping water levels in exchange for federal funding.6
Synopsis: El Niño is likely to emerge soon (82% chance in May-July 2026) and continuethrough Northern Hemisphere winter 2026-27 (96% chance in December 2026 – February2027).
In the past month, ENSO-neutral conditions continued, as indicated by near-average sea surface temperatures (SSTs) in the east-central equatorial Pacific Ocean (Fig. 1). The latest weekly Niño-3.4 index value was +0.4°C, with the westernmost (Niño-4) and easternmost (Niño-1+2) indices at +0.5°C and +1.0°C, respectively. The equatorial subsurface temperature index (average from 180°-100°W) increased for the sixth consecutive month, with widespread, significantly above-average subsurface temperatures across the equatorial Pacific. Westerly wind anomalies were observed over the western equatorial Pacific at low levels and were evident over the central and east-central Pacific at upper levels. Convection was near average on the equator near the Date Line and was suppressed around Indonesia. Collectively, the coupled ocean-atmosphere system reflected ENSO-neutral conditions.
The North American Multi-Model Ensemble (NMME) average, including the NCEP CFSv2, favors El Niño to form by next month and persist through Northern Hemisphere winter 2026-27. While confidence in the occurrence of El Niño has increased since last month, there is still substantial uncertainty in the peak strength of El Niño, with no strength categorization exceeding a 37% chance. The strongest El Niño events in the historical record are characterized by significant ocean-atmosphere coupling through the summer, and it remains to be seen whether this occurs in 2026. Stronger El Niño events do not ensure strong impacts; they can only make certain impacts more likely (see CPC outlooks for probabilities of seasonal anomalies). In summary, El Niño is likely to emerge soon (82% chance in May-July 2026) and continue through Northern Hemisphere winter 2026-27 (96% chance in December 2026 – February 2027).
Corn being harvested on the Ute Mountain Ute Farm & Ranch Enterprise. Aerial photo by Robert Marcos
In 1949 the Bureau of reclamation installed a diversion on Colorado’s West Marcos River that began channeling water to the brand new Jackson Gulch Reservoir. The reservoir had been created to provide irrigation water to Mancos area farmers of European descent. Somehow the Bureau of Reclamation overlooked the fact that the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe owned senior rights to that water, and about a year after the diversion was created the Tribe’s farm downstream dried up and turned to dust. Out of necessity, tribal members turned to cattle ranching.
Thirty-six years later in 1986, the Ute Mountain Ute and Southern Ute Tribes gathered to celebrate the passage of the Colorado Indian Water Rights Settlement. Then in 1994 for the first time in their reservation’s history, the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe received “wet water” in the amount of 25,100 acre feet a year, of both municipal and agricultural water from the McPhee Reservoir near Dolores.
There was only one problem. During the water rights negotiation the Mountain Ute had to subordinate their senior rights to Mancos River water for junior rights to water from the McPhee Reservoir. Consequently, as severe, climate-driven droughts began to hit Southwestern Colorado, the tribe, (because of its junior rights), began to see severe cuts to their water deliveries – sometimes as little as 10% of their full allocation. These water cuts have had a devastating effect on the Tribe’s award-winning 7,700 acre Farm & Ranch Enterprise – including the involuntary fallowing of fields and massive layoffs of both tribal and non-tribal employees.
Aerial photo of downtown Los Angeles California, provided by Storyblocks.
No, they do not. While it’s technically true that 40 million people across seven states and Mexico have water systems that are supplied in part by the Colorado River, it’s misleading to imply that 40 million people depend on the Colorado River entirely. But the statement – which was taken out of context, has been repeated so often by the media and others that it’s now widely-accepted as a fact. It originated from a Bureau of Reclamation report that actually says, “Although agricultural uses depend on 70 percent of Colorado River water, between 35 and 40 million people rely on the same water for some, if not all, of their municipal needs”.1
Top three reasons why the shortened “40 million” phrase is misleading
1.Agriculture consumes the vast majority of the water, not individuals
The phrase implies that 40 million people rely on the river primarily for drinking, bathing, and basic survival. In reality, agricultural irrigation consumes roughly 75% to 80% of the river’s water. A massive portion of that goes specifically toward water-intensive cattle feed crops like alfalfa and hay. Domestic, household use accounts for only about 10% to 13% of the total supply. The narrative of “40 million thirsty citizens” masks the fact that the crisis is fundamentally an agricultural management problem rather than a residential population crisis.
2.Major urban areas only use the river as a fractional supplement
Many of the 40 million people counted in this statistic live in large coastal or metropolitan cities—such as Los Angeles, San Diego, Denver, and Phoenix—that do not rely solely on the Colorado River. These cities utilize a diversified portfolio of water sources, including local groundwater, northern state aqueducts, state-wide recycling systems, and other local river basins. Saying they “depend” on the Colorado River implies total reliance, when it often provides only a fraction of their municipal supply.
3.Aggressive water recycling and conservation significantly reduce our “dependence”
Using the word “depend” creates a fatalistic narrative that if the river’s flow drops, 40 million people will run out of water. In practice, many of the urban centers counted in the 40 million figure are highly resilient due to aggressive wastewater recycling and conservation efforts. For example, Las Vegas and the state of Nevada recycle nearly 85% of their treated wastewater back into Lake Mead. Because these cities reuse the same water multiple times, their actual net depletion of the river is much lower than their gross population would suggest.
Parker Dam image from TripAdvisor. Photographed by WIBYRIC @he_wanders_off
Parker Dam is the exact geographic “fork in the road” for Southwest water distribution. It acts as the forebay for two of the most critical aqueducts in the United States. The Colorado River Aqueduct which is managed by the Metropolitan Water District of Southern California, which pumps water 242 miles west to Los Angeles and San Diego. And the Central Arizona Project which pumps water 336 miles east to supply Phoenix and Tucson.1
Lake Havasu is a dynamic environment that’s impacted by upstream agricultural drainage, mineral springs, and fluctuating flows from Hoover Dam, and so salinity can spike rapidly. Hourly monitoring allows Bureau of Reclamation technicians to provide real-time telemetry data to MWD and CAP so they can adjust their treatment facilities or blending ratios before millions of gallons of highly saline water enter their pipelines.2
If the Total Dissolved Solids (TDS) levels of water tested at Parker Dam are too high, it could set off a cascading economic, industrial, and agricultural crisis across California and Arizona. TDS is the combined concentration of minerals, salts, metals, and small organic substances dissolved in water. That includes common minerals like calcium, magnesium, sodium, potassium, and bicarbonates, as well as chloride, sulfate, nitrate, trace metals such as copper, zinc, and sometimes contaminants like pesticides or industrial byproducts.3
The Effects of high TDS for Residential Water Users
High TDS typically means “hard” and corrosive water. If Parker Dam passed high-salinity water into the aqueducts, it would cause the buildup of scale in home appliances, water heaters, and municipal pipes across Los Angeles, San Diego, and Phoenix. Scale can drastically reduce the lifespans of home appliances, clog plumbing infrastructure, and degrade household water filters. It forces MWD and local utilities to incur massive financial costs to blend Colorado River water with lower-salinity northern water sources just to make it palatable and safe for home use.4
The Effects of high TDS for Agricultural Water Users
Water from Parker Dam also feeds the massive agricultural hubs of the Imperial and Coachella Valleys, as well as Yuma, Arizona. Irrigation water that’s high in salt acts as a silent killer for crops like alfalfa, lettuce, and citrus fruits. High salt content alters soil chemistry, lowering overall crop yields and burning plant roots. It forces farmers to use significantly more water just to “flush” the accumulated salts out of the root zones, compounding the West’s water scarcity issues.5
Colorado River salinity requirements for Water that flows into Mexico
IBWC Minute 242 regulates Colorado River salinity by requiring that water delivered to Mexico at Morelos Dam has an annual average salinity no more than 115 parts per million (ppm), with a plus or minus 30 ppm variance, above that of the water at Imperial Dam. This comparative standard ensures water quality by preventing high-salinity agricultural drainage from being added before crossing the border. Detailed information on this treaty can be found on the International Boundary and Water Commission website.6
As our attention is focused on the Colorado River’s diminished streamflow, there are other dangers lurking in the shadows.
As river flows diminish the total dissolved solids (TDS) it contains become more concentrated. And as that languid water heats up in the summertime cyanobacteria can bloom – which further degrades water quality. Cyanobacteria (blue-green algae) thrive in the Colorado River system when specific physical, chemical, and climatic conditions overlap. Major bodies along the basin, such as Lake Powell, Lake Havasu, and the Blue Mesa Reservoir, can experience rapid algae blooms under the following conditions:1
Thermal Thresholds Cyanobacteria growth accelerates significantly when water temperatures exceed 68°F, outcompeting other harmless algae. Optimal growth rates typically occur at temperatures above 77°F. The combination of intense summer heat and reduced snowpack runoff creates peak risk conditions from June through September.2
High Nutrient Loading: Excess agricultural fertilizer runoff – infused with phosphorus and nitrogen, livestock waste, and urban stormwater feed the bacteria.
Internal Loading: In deep reservoirs like Blue Mesa, oxygen-depleted bottom waters trigger the release of historical, sediment-bound phosphorus back into the water column.
Wildfire Aftermath: Runoff from regional burn scars carries massive loads of ash and nitrates directly into feeding tributaries.3
River Regulation: Major dams and impoundments artificially slow down river velocity.
Drought Depletion: Persistent droughts drop the total water volume, lengthening the hydraulic retention time. This gives the bacteria prolonged periods to multiply without being flushed downstream.4
Thermocline Barriers: Intense sunlight creates a distinct warm, less dense upper layer of water separated from the cold deeper water.
Buoyancy Advantage: Many harmful cyanobacteria types (like Microcystis) regulate their buoyancy. They rise to the calm, sunlit surface layer to trap light while exploiting the stable water column to form thick surface scums.5
Low Turbidity: When sediment settles in slow-moving sections or reservoirs, water clarity increases. Sunlight penetrates deeper into the water column, accelerating the photosynthetic replication of the bacteria.6
The threat presented by higher concentrations of TDS
Hydrologists are highly concerned about the increase in Total Dissolved Solids in the Colorado River because elevated salinity inflicts an estimated $350 million in annual economic damages across the Southwest. Driven by climate change, prolonged droughts, and agricultural runoff, rising TDS poses specific, localized threats:7
Agricultural Damage: High-salinity water reduces crop yields and stunts the growth of salt-sensitive crops like citrus, vegetables, and alfalfa grown in the Imperial and Coachella valleys.
Infrastructure & Municipal Costs: Salty water corrodes municipal water pipes, shortens the lifespan of residential water heaters and appliances, and burdens water treatment facilities with expensive reverse osmosis remediation.
International Obligations: High TDS levels complicate compliance with the 1944 Water Treaty, which dictates the quality and quantity of Colorado River water the United States must deliver to Mexico.
Ecological Degradation: Elevated salinity levels disrupt the delicate biological balance, negatively impacting native fish and aquatic habitats in the river basin.To manage these threats, the Colorado River Basin Salinity Control Forum implements ongoing watershed management and mitigation programs to intercept salts before they reach the river system.8
To manage these threats, the Colorado River Basin Salinity Control Forum implements ongoing watershed management and mitigation programs to intercept salts before they reach the river system.9
Wikipedia photo of Castor canadensis taken by Minette Layne in 2009.
by Robert Marcos
Beavers are experiencing a resurgence across much of the contiguous United States, most visibly in the Pacific Northwest (including parts of Oregon and Washington), the Mountain West (such as Yellowstone and adjacent basins), and the arid Southwest, where they are being actively reintroduced into degraded desert streams to restore wetlands and water storage. They have also rebounded in many eastern and midwestern states, forming thriving populations along rivers, streams, and ponds from the Northeast through the Midwest, while remaining sparse or absent only in a few deep‑South regions.1
The resurgence of beavers is creating a wide range of ecological, hydrological, and sometimes economic benefits because they act as “ecosystem engineers” that reshape streams and wetlands in ways that support many other species and services.2
Water storage and drought resilience
Beaver dams slow runoff and create ponds and wetlands that store rain and snowmelt on the landscape, which helps maintain base flows during dry periods. In some basins, beaver activity has been linked with up to about 60% more open water during drought compared with pre‑beaver conditions, effectively deepening local water storage and raising groundwater levels.3
Flood and erosion control
By temporarily holding back pulse flows, beaver‑engineered wetlands reduce peak flood volumes downstream, sometimes cutting flood flows by around 50–60% in trials. They also trap sediment and slow the movement of eroded material after storms or fires, which helps protect stream channels and reservoirs from siltation.4
Biodiversity and habitat
Beaver‑created wetlands and ponds increase habitat complexity, supporting more insects, amphibians, fish, birds, and other wildlife than comparable un‑dammed reaches. The mosaic of ponds, canals, log jams, and oxidized–reduced microhabitats boosts species richness and can benefit runs of fish such as salmon and trout by creating refuge pools and cooler water refugia.5
Water quality improvements
Beaver ponds act as low‑tech filters: sediments and attached pollutants settle out, and microbes in pond sediments help break down nitrogen and other contaminants. This has been documented in both agricultural and urban settings, where beaver‑modified reaches show reduced sediment loads and lower nutrient export downstream.6
Climate and carbon resilience
Beaver‑engineered wetlands can store carbon in pond sediments and surrounding vegetation, and their slow‑release hydrology helps buffer landscapes against both floods and droughts—a key feature in climate‑change‑adapted watersheds. In the American West and other arid regions, that “nature‑based” storage is increasingly seen as a low‑cost tool for watershed resilience and water‑supply augmentation.7
Pure Water Oceanside water treatment and recycling plant. Photograph by Robert Marcos
By Robert Marcos
In a drier future, if Southern California’s municipalities lost all access to imported water, they’d need twenty to thirty new desalination plants – each producing 50 million gallons of water a day, to make up for the 2.6 million acre feet of water that the region’s 19 million residents currently use.1
Unfortunately we know that desalination plants take far too long to build, require far too much energy, and at $3000 to $3600 per acre foot – the water they produce is far too expensive.2 This is why the state’s official “water supply strategy” promotes the development of wastewater recycling and stormwater capture first, with desalination considered as a last resort.3
Wastewater Recycling
The recycling of wastewater is a favored solution because it treats water that’s already within the system. Wastewater recycling – also known as water reclamation, follows a multi-stage purification process that accelerates the Earth’s natural water cycle. It typically begins with primary treatment, where wastewater is held in settling tanks to allow heavy solids to sink and be removed. In secondary treatment, oxygen is added to aeration tanks to help naturally occurring microbes consume dissolved organic pollutants. The process then moves to tertiary treatment, involving fine-grained filtration through sand, coal, or membranes, followed by disinfection using chlorine or ultraviolet (UV) light to kill remaining pathogens. For potable (drinking) water applications, advanced systems may add reverse osmosis and advanced oxidation to remove trace chemicals and salts. This treated water is then distributed through a dedicated “purple pipe” system, separate from standard drinking water lines, for uses like landscape irrigation, industrial cooling, and groundwater replenishment.4
San Diego’s multi-year “Pure Water” wastewater recycling project is expected to cost over $5 billion, with Phase 1 alone costing approximately $1.5 billion and future phases projected to significantly raise the total expense. Phase 1 is expected to produce 30 million gallons of potable water daily, with the entire system potentially costing $5 billion or more.5
Stormwater capture
In a city like Los Angeles, stormwater capture is the process of collecting rainfall and urban runoff from open spaces, rooftops, and streets to either use directly or—more commonly—to allow it to soak into the ground to recharge local groundwater basins for future use. This is achieved through large-scale infrastructure like spreading grounds and dams, as well as community-level projects like rain gardens and permeable pavement. While the infrastructure itself is highly reliable—with the county currently capable of capturing enough water to serve millions of people during wet years—the overall supply remains inconsistent because it depends entirely on highly variable seasonal rainfall. For instance, capture totals can swing drastically from roughly 120 billion gallons in a record wet season to just 11.9 billion gallons in a dry one, making it a valuable but unpredictable supplement to the region’s imported water sources.6
The cost to create a stormwater capture system in Los Angeles varies drastically based on scale, ranging from $100 for a simple home rain barrel to over $70 million for massive regional infrastructure projects.7
As record-breaking heatwaves and droughts become more frequent, natural sources of water that insects and wildlife have historically depended upon are drying up. In response a growing number of homeowners are transforming their yards into life-saving “hydration hubs”. In addition to serving the needs of animals these simple actions help people to move from regret to action and then even pleasure as they watch deer, opossums, bees, and other wild animals obtain lifesaving water.1
Young mule deer drinking from a bird bath. Photo on Pinterest by Susan Sam 2018.
Deer act as vital ecosystem engineers by managing plant growth and promoting biodiversity through their grazing habits. As they move across various habitats, they disperse seeds via their fur and waste, aiding in forest regeneration and the spread of native flora. Furthermore, they serve as a primary food source for large predators, while their carcasses provide essential nutrients to scavengers and the soil, maintaining a balanced and nutrient-rich food web.2
Baby opossum drinking from a pyrex dish. Photo by r/Opossums on Reddit.
Opossums act as “nature’s sanitation workers” by providing essential pest control and waste removal services right in our backyards. As opportunistic scavengers, they keep neighborhoods clean by consuming overripe fruit, roadkill, and organic waste that might otherwise attract less desirable pests like rats or roaches. They also help maintain ecological balance by hunting common garden nuisances such as snails, slugs, and even venomous snakes, to which they have a natural immunity. Furthermore, their low body temperature makes them highly resistant to rabies, meaning they are far less likely to spread the disease than other urban wildlife.3
A terracotta bowl filled with water, mint leaves, and brightly-colored marbles to attract bees and pollinators. Photo by Beeappy on Reddit.
Pollinators like bees, butterflies, and bats are the silent backbone of our local ecosystems, facilitating the reproduction of nearly 80% of the world’s flowering plants and one out of every three bites of food we eat. By transferring pollen between blooms, they ensure the production of the fruits, seeds, and nuts that feed both humans and wildlife, while simultaneously maintaining the genetic diversity necessary for resilient landscapes. Beyond agriculture, their work supports the growth of oxygen-producing plants and provides the foundational habitat for countless other species, making their presence a direct indicator of a healthy, thriving environment.4
Red-tailed hawk in a birdbath. Photo by Chris Naftel in the Tehachapi News.
Red-tailed hawks are apex predators that maintain ecological balance by regulating the populations of small mammals, including rodents, rabbits, and squirrels. By controlling these populations, they provide free pest control for both urban environments and agricultural lands, which helps prevent overgrazing of vegetation and crop damage. Beyond their role as hunters, they are valuable indicator species; their presence and reproductive success reflect the overall health and biodiversity of the local ecosystem. Additionally, their large nests can provide secondary habitat for smaller bird species, such as house sparrows, while their opportunistic scavenging contributes to natural nutrient cycling.5
Photograph of a crystal clear stream obtained from Storyblocks
by Robert Marcos
I was dumbfounded to hear a scientist with the U.S. Geological Survey say, “I wish we could date this water so we’d have a better idea where it came from”. We were standing alongside a tiny creek that led into Colorado’s White River, and the scientist was essentially wondering if the water in the stream came from rainfall, or had risen from a shallow aquifer. Generally rainfall would be “younger” and water from aquifers would be older – sometimes by many thousands of years. But how could anyone possibly determine the age of water?
Answer: by analyzing its chemical composition.
The USGS dates groundwater using chemical and isotopic tracers whose concentrations change in known ways over time in the atmosphere and then get preserved in recharging water. For young groundwater—typically less than about 50–70 years old—USGS commonly uses substances like chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs), sulfur hexafluoride (SF₆), and tritium and its decay product helium‑3. These are measured in specialized facilities such as the Reston Groundwater Dating Laboratory, which analyzes dissolved gases and transient tracers in samples from wells and springs. The key idea is that atmospheric histories of these tracers (for example, industrial production curves for CFCs or tritium from nuclear weapons testing in the 1950s–60s) provide a time stamp that can be matched to what is found in the water.1
One example is tritium-based age classification – where a single measurement of tritium is used to classify groundwater as “modern” (recharged in 1953 or later), “premodern” (before 1953), or a mixture of the two. The year 1953 roughly marks the onset of elevated tritium from atmospheric nuclear testing, making it a convenient boundary between older, background conditions and post‑bomb‑pulse recharge. By comparing measured tritium to location‑ and time‑specific thresholds, USGS can quickly determine whether a sample reflects recent recharge that may carry contemporary contaminants or older water that has been isolated from the modern surface for decades or longer.
For slightly older water—hundreds to tens of thousands of years—USGS uses longer‑lived isotopic tracers such as radiocarbon (carbon‑14) dissolved in inorganic carbon. Radiocarbon decays predictably over time, so its remaining fraction in groundwater indicates how long it has been since the water equilibrated with atmospheric carbon at the surface. At even greater ages, other isotopes and noble gases may be used to extend the window into tens of thousands of years or more. No single method is perfect; each tracer has limitations, such as contamination from local sources, mixing of waters of different ages, or chemical reactions that alter concentrations. As a result, USGS often applies multiple tracers together and interprets them with groundwater flow models to better constrain age and understand the distribution of ages in a well or discharge area.
USGS dates groundwater because age is fundamental for managing water resources and assessing vulnerability to pollution. Age indicates how quickly water moves through the subsurface, how long it will take for land‑use changes to affect wells and springs, and whether contaminants like nitrates, pesticides, or per‑ and polyfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS) reflect current practices or legacy inputs. By linking age to contaminant trends, managers can judge whether improvement efforts will show benefits in years, decades, or even longer. Age information also supports sustainable yield estimates, helps distinguish short‑term variability from long‑term change, and reveals dependencies on very old water that may take thousands of years to replenish.
Crystal Springs in the Ash Meadow National Wildlife Refuge. Photo by Pahrump Photography
by Robert Marcos
The water in Amargosa Valley is a scientific oddity in that it serves as a living time capsule, and it supports life in one of our planet’s harshest environments. The Amargosa River flows underground for roughly 185 miles – surfacing only occasionally to create lush oases in the Mojave Desert.
Here are some remarkable aspects of this unique water system:
Ancient “Fossil Water”: Much of the groundwater in the Amargosa Basin is fossil water that was recharged during the last Ice Age, between 10,000 and 100,000 years ago. The water travels through a massive regional aquifer of limestone and dolomite rock from sources as far away as the Spring Mountains.1
A “Bottomless” Cavern: The system feeds Devils Hole, a water-filled limestone cavern in the Ash Meadows National Wildlife Refuge. Divers have never found its bottom, but it has been explored to depths of over 500 feet.
Geological Sensitivity: The water level in Devils Hole is so precisely tuned to the Earth’s crust that it acts like a giant seismograph. Massive earthquakes thousands of miles away in Japan or Mexico have caused “tsunamis” several feet high inside this tiny desert pool.2
Two male Devils Hole Pupfish. Photographed by Olin Feuerbacher / USFWS
Extremophile Habitats: The valley’s springs support the Devils Hole pupfish, which has the smallest habitat of any vertebrate species on Earth. These fish survive in water that is 93°F and nearly devoid of oxygen, conditions that would be lethal to most other fish. The pupfish are closely monitored by an interagency group – consisting of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, the National Park Service, and the Nevada Department of Wildlife. Scientists from these agencies frequently count the number of fish, collect their eggs, and are are undertaking captive rearing and “population augmentation” (which means they release captive-bred fish into the water in order to support the existing population, which is struggling).
Global Biodiversity Hotspot: Ash Meadows National Wildlife Refuge is home to 26 endemic species of plants and animals that exist nowhere else on Earth. This high concentration of unique life, isolated in “islands of water” within the Mojave Desert, has earned the area the nickname “The Galapagos of the Desert”. The endangered fish include the Devils Hole pupfish, Warm Springs pupfish, Ash Meadows Amargosa pupfish, and the Ash Meadows speckled dace. Several unique species of endemic plants include the Amargosa niterwortthe Ash Meadows milkvetch, the Ash Meadows blazingstar and Spring-loving centaury.3
Deep-Fault Thermal Springs: The heat in local thermal springs, such as those near Tecopa, is likely caused by deep water circulation along faults rather than a shallow volcanic heat source. The geothermally-heated water in the Amargosa Valley – including the water at Devils Hole, is heavily influenced by the region’s limestone and dolomite bedrock. As rainwater from the nearby Spring Mountains moves through deep underground fractures, it is heated by the Earth’s core and dissolves various minerals along the way.4
Image created by Google Gemini, May 6th, 2026, from the prompt: “generate a funny picture of a skeleton wearing a beach hat in the desert”.
by Robert Marcos, photojournalist
Water that’s banked in Lake Mead is officially called “Intentionally Created Surplus“, or ICS. The ICS allows major water users in the lower basin to store conserved or unused Colorado River water in the reservoir for their future use.
As of May 2026, Lake Mead’s water volume was 8.3 million acre-feet – or roughly a third of its total capacity. But after publishing this article we were made aware that we should subtract Lake Mead’s 2.3 MAF deadpool from that amount, which brings it down to about 6 MAF. Currently the ICS holds about 2.3 million acre feet of that water, which represents about 38% of Lake Mead’s available water.
Here’s a list of the water agencies and the estimated amount of water that each of them have currently banked in Lake Mead –
Arizona: According to official tracking from the USBR and the CAP, the state of Arizona’s total balance of accumulated Intentionally Created Surplus water stored in Lake Mead as of May 15th is approximately 310,000 to 350,000 acre-feet.
California: As of May 2026, California has roughly 1.2 to 1.4 million acre-feet of water banked in Lake Mead through the ICS and other conservation programs. Major participants include the Metropolitan Water District of Southern California, the Imperial Irrigation District, and the Palo Verde Irrigation District.4
Nevada: As of May 2026, Nevada has approximately 479,184 acre-feet of water banked in Lake Mead through the ICS program. This total represents a major portion of Nevada’s overall “water savings account,” which includes several different banking locations and programs.5
Mexico: As of May 2026, Mexico has approximately 200,000 acre feet of water banked in Lake Mead through the ICS program and related binational agreements. Mexico was granted the right to store water in Lake Mead following a 2010 earthquake that damaged its irrigation infrastructure. By 2026, these stored volumes have stabilized at around 200,000 acre-feet as Mexico uses the lake as a buffer against shortages.7
Tomatos being sorted by a farmer in the Mexicali Valley. Photo from Storyblocks
by Robert Marcos
Last week the lower basin states of Arizona, California, and Nevada, along with tribal leaders, offered to leave somewhere between 700,000 to a million acre-feet of water in the Colorado River system through 2027–2028. The states described it as more than 3.2 million acre-feet of savings by 2028 and a way to stabilize Lake Mead and Lake Powell while longer-term negotiations continue.1
What caught my eye about this story is that Mexico – which by law had received 1.5 million acre feet of Colorado River water annually, was already conserving some of that water due to a previous agreement that promised to conserve 400,000 acre-feet between 2023–2026.2
Reportedly, farmers south of the border are unhappy with these arrangements. Farmers in Mexicali Valley said they feel frustrated with the mandatory Colorado River water conservation, and they reported that they’ve been “cheated” out of resources they desperately need to survive. While Mexico agreed to specific water reductions as part of a binational plan with the U.S., many farmers in the Valle de Mexicali have reached a breaking point due to unpaid compensation.3
The prevailing sentiment of farmers in Mexicali Valley is characterized by the following:
Financial Betrayal: Many farmers in Northern Baja’s district 14 agreed to leave thousands of acres of land fallowed in order to conserve Colorado River water – in exchange for $4.5 million dollars in direct payments. However, they claim the Mexican government failed to pay them, which has left these farmers without any income whatsoever.4
Opposition to New Water Laws: Recent sweeping changes to Mexico’s national water law have stripped long-held water rights away from farmers, consolidating control in the hands of the federal government. Farmers view this as a move to prioritize urban centers like Tijuana and Ensenada over agricultural needs.
Sovereignty Concerns: There is a strong feeling that the Mexican government is surrendering national sovereignty by complying with U.S. water demands while its own agricultural sector suffers from “death” through deprivation.
Escalating Resistance: Farmers have responded with aggressive protests, including blockading major trade routes at the U.S.-Mexico border with semi-trucks and seizing control of critical dams. Some have even threatened to “spill” their water or return to farming—even if unprofitable—just to prevent the government from redirecting it elsewhere.5
In 2013 Southern California’s San Onofre Nuclear Generating Station was retired eleven years ahead of schedule. This was because of severe, premature wear in the tubes of its replacement steam generators that led to a radioactive leak and made the cost and regulatory uncertainty of a full repair unfeasible for its operators.1 Worse, the closure occurred just after ratepayers in San Diego, Orange, and Riverside Counties had spent $1.88 billion for an overhaul of the plant.2 A year later the California Public Utilities Commission approved a $4.7 billion settlement where ratepayers were made responsible for approximately $3.3 billion of the plant’s closing costs, to be paid over a 10-year period.3
Ratepayers continued to pay for “undepreciated net investments” in the retired nuclear plant—essentially paying off the remaining debt for construction and equipment that had not yet been fully depreciated before the early shutdown. Even after the shutdown, utilities were allowed to collect funds for maintaining safety and security at the retired site.4
The San Onofre debacle illustrates how utilities use regulatory “cost recovery” and “stranded asset” mechanisms to pass billions in losses from failed or retired facilities onto ratepayers. Nationally, this system allows investor-owned utilities to maintain profits even after large projects fail, as seen with coal plant retirements and canceled transmission lines.5
How Ratepayers get Soaked for closed power generation facilities
Utilities nationwide use several key tactics to recover costs from assets that no longer produce power:
Stranded Asset Recovery: When a plant like San Diego’s San Onofre Nuclear Power Plant shuts down prematurely, utilities often seek to recover their remaining “undepreciated investment”. For San Onofre, a controversial settlement originally placed $3.3 billion of the $4.7 billion shutdown cost on ratepayers over 10 years.6
Guaranteed Returns on Failed Investments: Utilities typically enjoy built-in profit margins (often around 9-10%) on their infrastructure investments. Even after a plant is shuttered, they may continue to collect these returns. In the San Onofre case, regulators eventually reduced the shareholder return to less than 3% for the retired assets, which still left customers paying for the principal investment.
Replacement Power Costs: When a major facility goes offline, utilities must buy electricity from elsewhere. Ratepayers often bear these “purchased power” costs. San Diego and Southern California customers saw estimated costs of $350 million to $1.1 billion just for replacement electricity following the San Onofre outage.
Decommissioning Surcharges: Long-term cleanup and waste storage costs are frequently funded through special ratepayer-backed accounts. Decommissioning San Onofre is estimated to cost $4.7 billion, much of which was pre-funded by customers during the plant’s operating years.
The “Uneconomic Dispatch”
This model extends beyond nuclear power to fossil fuels and infrastructure:
Coal Plant “Uneconomic Dispatch”: Utilities nationwide continue to run expensive coal plants that cannot compete with cheaper gas or renewables because they can recover fuel and operation costs from customers. This “uneconomic dispatch” cost U.S. consumers an estimated $24 billion from 2015 to 2024.
Securitization: Some states use “securitization”—issuing low-interest bonds to pay off a utility’s remaining investment in a closed plant. While this can lower customer bills compared to standard utility returns, it still ensures the utility is paid in full for a non-working asset.
Failed Infrastructure: Similar to the faulty steam generators at San Onofre, ratepayers have been held responsible for abandoned projects like PG&E’s scrapped transmission line to Canada ($20 million) and Duke Energy’s retired Crystal River nuclear plant in Florida ($1.3 billion in bonds).
Vertical agriculture using shipping containers that recycle fish water is a method known as containerized aquaponics. This system creates a closed-loop, symbiotic ecosystem where fish and plants mutually benefit one another within a highly controlled environment.1
How the Recirculating System Works
The process mimics natural pond ecosystems through a cycle of nutrient exchange. Fish (typically tilapia, catfish, or trout) are raised in tanks at the base of the container. They produce waste rich in ammonia as they are fed. Beneficial bacteria in the system’s biofilters convert this toxic ammonia into nitrites and then into nitrates, which serve as a natural fertilizer for plants. This nutrient-rich water is pumped upward to irrigate rows of plants stacked vertically in trays or towers. As the plants absorb the nutrients, they act as a natural filter, cleaning the water. This purified water is then gravity-fed or pumped back down to the fish tanks to begin the cycle again.2
Key Components in a Shipping Container Farm
Housed in standard 20-or 40-foot containers, these units include specialized technology to maintain the ecosystem. Climate Control: HVAC systems regulate temperature, humidity, and CO2 levels regardless of external weather. LED Lighting: Tailored light spectrums simulate sunlight and optimize plant growth year-round. Automation & Sensors: Smart systems monitor pH levels, oxygen saturation, and nutrient flow, often allowing for remote management via smartphone. Renewable Energy: Some modular units, like those from FarmPod, use solar panels to power pumps and lights, making them off-grid capable.3
Benefits and Efficiency
Water Conservation: These systems use up to 90–95% less water than traditional soil-based farming because the water is constantly recycled. High Yield in a small footprint: A single container can produce the equivalent of 1 to 4 acres of traditional farmland output. Urban Adaptability: Because they are modular and mobile, they can be placed in parking lots, on rooftops, or in urban “food deserts” to provide hyper-local produce. Chemical-Free: The closed-loop nature eliminates the need for synthetic fertilizers and pesticides, producing organic-quality crops and fish simultaneously.4
In 2022, University of California Davis published the results of a three-year study on covers crops, which was carried out on ten commercial farms and research sites in California’s Central Valley. The study examined the impact of winter cover cropping on soil health and water retention in irrigated agricultural systems with a focus on almond and tomato crops, which are two of the most common crops grown in the region.1
Three cover crop systems were included in the study and then compared with adjacent control fields that were left bare, at the same site. The systems included: 1) a cover crop in processing tomato fields; 2) a cover crop planted in between rows of almond trees; and 3) allowing whatever native vegetation was available to grow in between the almond tree rows. The planted cover crops were a mix of legumes, grasses, and brassicas.
The results were impressive. Researchers found that the cover crop fields had higher levels of soil organic matter, soil nitrogen, and microbial activity, indicating improved soil health. In addition, the cover crop fields had higher levels of water infiltration and retention, meaning that they were better able to hold onto water during periods of drought or water stress. The researchers found that the cover crops did not compete with cash crops for water, and that the same amount of water used in the control fields without cover crops was able to support the same amount of crop yield in the cover crop fields. In one case in Davis, there was heavy rainfall at one point during the study. The water loss via evapotranspiration was greater in the bare control plot, showing that use of cover crops improved water retention.
The study provided important evidence of the benefits of winter cover cropping in California’s Central Valley, particularly for improving soil health and reducing water usage in agricultural systems. The findings suggest that cover crops can help farmers make more efficient use of their water resources, potentially reducing the need for additional irrigation, and providing environmental benefits such as reduced erosion and improved water quality.
Top 5 Cover Crops for use in the Western US
For the Western United States – including the arid regions of California, Arizona, and Nevada, the best nitrogen-fixing cover crops are selected for their drought tolerance and ability to thrive in either high heat or mild winters.2
Cowpea: Best For: Summer heat in low-elevation deserts. Highly drought-tolerant with a taproot that can reach up to eight feet deep to access water. It thrives when temperatures exceed 100° F and can fix roughly 100–175 lbs of nitrogen per acre. The ‘Iron Clay’ variety is widely recommended for use in the Southwest.
Alfalfa: works best for long-term soil restoration. Often called the “queen of forages,” alfalfa is a perennial legume with deep roots that break up subsoil and reach nutrients deep in the earth. It is one of the most powerful nitrogen fixers, capable of producing 250–500 lbs of nitrogen per acre.
Crimson Clover: Used as winter cover in the Southwest or for spring cover in the north. A fast-growing annual that establishes quickly in the fall to provide winter protection. It is frequently used in mixtures with radish to improve soil structure while fixing roughly 70–150 lbs of nitrogen per acre.
Hairy Vetch: is excellent as a winter-hardy coverage and weed suppression. Why It Works: It grows slowly in the fall but resumes vigorous growth in the spring, creating a thick mat that smothers weeds. It is known for high nitrogen fixation (over 100 lbs per acre) and performs well in the cooler, non-agricultural environments of the West.
Lablab: works best during the summer-to-fall transition in Arizona. Lablab is specifically noted for its performance in the hot weather of central Arizona. It produces high biomass and can contribute 50–200 lbs of nitrogen per acre. Unlike some other summer legumes, it continues vegetative growth late into the year without flowering immediately, offering more flexible termination dates for growers.
They say that bad news will travel around the world three times while good news is still putting its shoes on, which is exactly how I feel about this news about our water use: Our transition from coal-fired power generation to wind and solar has turned out to be one of the most effective ways to conserve our nation’s fresh water.
Transitioning from coal-fired power generation to renewable wind and solar has significantly reduced water consumption, and has provided critical relief to water-stressed regions. While coal plants once competed directly with agriculture and municipalities for freshwater, the shift to renewables allows billions of gallons of water to remain in local ecosystems and aquifers.1
The electric power sector uses a large amount of water, mostly for cooling. Thermoelectric power plants (including natural gas, nuclear, and coal plants) boil water to create steam, which spins a turbine to generate electricity. The steam leaving the turbine must be cooled back into water to be used to generate more electricity. Plants withdraw water from nearby rivers, lakes, or oceans and pass that water through the steam leaving the turbine. That process cools and condenses the steam back into water. In 2021, 73% of the utility-scale electricity generated in the United States came from thermoelectric power plants.2
Traditional coal-fired power plants are incredibly water-intensive – requiring approximately 19,185 gallons of water per megawatt-hour, (primarily for cooling), while wind and photovoltaic solar power generation requires no water – except for periodic washing to remove dust and bird droppings. Nationally, replacing the remaining coal fleet with wind and solar could decrease electricity-related water consumption by over 99%, potentially making 2.6 billion cubic meters of water available for other uses each year.3
Environmental benefits
Protecting Local Ecosystems: Retiring fossil fuel plants directly restores local river health. For instance, some subbasins are projected to see a 57% increase in annual streamflow by 2050 as plant withdrawals cease, benefiting local agriculture and wildlife.
Efficiency Gains: The U.S. Energy Information Administration reports that the changing energy mix—led by the rise of renewables—is responsible for roughly 80% of the downward trend in water withdrawals by the electric power sector.
Climate Resilience: This is a critical shaft for drought-prone regions. In the American West, moving to low-water energy sources leaves much-needed freshwater in its natural environment.
Regional Shifts in Water Stress
The impact of this transition has been most visible in arid regions where coal production and cooling previously dominated local water use. Coal plants in states like Arizona, Colorado, and New Mexico have historically consumed enormous volumes of surface water from the Colorado River and other critical basins. Retiring these plants is projected to significantly curtail annual water withdrawals, with some rivers seeing a net increase in streamflow of up to 57% by 2050.4
In Texas and California replacing fossil fuel generation with wind and solar PV can decrease water consumption by over 98%. This shift is particularly impactful in Texas, which has seen the largest absolute reduction in coal generation in the U.S. over recent years.5
In China a transition toward renewables in northwestern regions (like Inner Mongolia and Xinjiang) has been essential for alleviating “extremely high” water stress. Research shows that closing coal mines in these areas leads to a rapid restoration of Terrestrial Water Storage, increasing water availability by an average of 18.8 mm per year through groundwater recovery.6
Click the link to read the article on the KJZZ website (Alex Hager). Here’s an excerpt:
April 17, 2026
On the outer edges of the Phoenix metro, the small town of Cave Creek sits nestled among the saguaro-dotted hills. It’s home to about 5,000 people and known mostly for its quiet residential neighborhoods, art galleries and an annual rodeo…Cave Creek, which gets about 95% of its water from the Colorado River, will be among the first to feel the impact of those cuts…Colorado River water travels to Cave Creek through the Central Arizona Project, a 336-mile canal that carries water from the state’s western border to the Phoenix and Tucson areas.
The federal government has suggested major cuts to the amount of water the CAP carries each year, forcing Cave Creek officials to find a backup plan quickly. They will be able to keep taps flowing in the short term, but the future is uncertain, as long-term fixes are expensive and complicated…The first option for most cities, [Brad] Hill said, would be a turn to groundwater. For most, it is relatively easy and cheap to dig more wells near town and carefully use some of the water sitting in underground aquifers. Cave Creek cannot do that. Aquifers underneath the Valley are shaped like bathtubs. For one of those bathtubs, the deepest part is in the middle, and Cave Creek sits on the outer edge, so there isn’t much water underneath town…Cave Creek is, part of a program to store excess Colorado River water underground. The town pays an annual fee for the rights to put water into that pool, which essentially serves as an emergency savings account for times when there isn’t enough water above ground to serve everybody’s needs. Cave Creek has the right to take some of that water, but first it has to physically get it to town. Since the underground aquifer is far away, building a pipe directly into it would be prohibitively expensive and time-consuming. So instead, Cave Creek will be part of an exchange. Cave Creek is working on deals with three other Valley cities: Phoenix, Peoria and Surprise. Those cities can more easily tap into that underground savings account, so they will start using more groundwater and leave some of their CAP water in the canal, where Cave Creek can access it using its existing pumps.
A US Geological Survey chart from 2015 shows America’s population rising (purple) as surface water use (blue) fell.
by Robert Marcos
A landmark 2015 USGS study revealed that overall water consumption in the United States had declined even though our population had increased. A study in 2025 showed that that downward trend has continued. Scientists involved in the study reported that the decline has been driven by significant efficiency gains in the power and manufacturing sectors, and by improved household conservation.1
The EPA reported that municipal efforts to conserve water have been paying off. This includes the use of water saving faucets, toilets, and showers, plus the recycling of waste water. Meanwhile – due to climate change, other parts of the world have seen their demand for fresh water rise by as much as 40%.2
Detailed Comparison of Water Use (2015 vs. 2025)
Total Withdrawals: In 2015, the U.S. withdrew approximately 322 billion gallons per day, the lowest level reported since 1970. By 2025, total withdrawals have continued to stabilize or decline despite population increases, largely driven by significant reductions in thermoelectric power and industrial sectors.3
Wastewater Reuse: A major shift in the decade leading to 2025 was the rapid expansion of the municipal wastewater reuse market. Total reuse capacity was projected to increase by 61% by 2025, with potable reuse (treatment to drinking water quality) rising from 15% to 19% of total reuse capacity.4
Residential Consumption: The average American used 82 gallons per day at home in 2015. By 2025, widespread adoption of EPA WaterSense certified fixtures has allowed typical families to reduce this consumption by at least 20% through more efficient toilets, faucets, and showerheads.5
Positive developments in major sectors
Power generation: Electrical power generation has reduced the use fresh water by shifting from coal to renewables, like wind and solar, which require little to no water, and by implementing dry-cooling technologies. These improvements have dropped U.S. water withdrawal intensity from 14,928 gal/MWh in 2015 to 11,857 gal/MWh in 2020, as the energy mix shifts toward less water-intensive sources.6
Agricultural irrigation: Farmers have improved water efficiency by transitioning from flood irrigation to advanced pressurized systems, like drip and micro-irrigation. These systems deliver water directly to the plant’s root zone, significantly reducing losses from evaporation and runoff. Additionally, many operations now utilize precision agriculture technologies, including soil moisture sensors and GPS-guided machinery, to apply water only when and where it is needed based on real-time data. Complementary land management practices like conservation tillage (no-till) and the use of cover crops further enhance water retention by improving soil health and reducing surface evaporation.7
Industrial/Mining: The mining industry is conserving fresh water primarily by transitioning to closed-loop recycling systems that treat and reuse process water multiple times within a facility. Many companies are also adopting thickened tailings technology, which removes more water from waste streams before disposal, and utilizing alternative sources like desalinated seawater or treated municipal wastewater. Additionally, the shift toward dry stacking—where waste is filtered into a sandy substance—significantly reduces the water lost to evaporation or seepage in traditional storage ponds.8
Geographic and Economic Shifts
Regional Demand: By 2025, regions like the Southwest and Colorado River basin faced increased pressure due to drought, leading to a 16.9% decline in specific sectors like golf course irrigation through aggressive management.
Investment: The market for municipal reuse and wastewater infrastructure reached an estimated $11 billion by 2025, with Florida and California accounting for over 80% of this activity.
Note about groundwater use estimates
While researching this article I was concerned the accuracy of ground water use estimates. It’s widely-known that most wells are not metered and that many farmers, ranchers, and land owners, are opposed to metering the groundwater they pump. But it appears that the USGS estimates ground water use with highly sophisticated satellite technology like those below.
Satellite Monitoring Methods
GRACE, (Gravity Recovery and Climate Experiment): These twin satellites “weigh” the Earth by measuring minute changes in gravity caused by the movement of water. By subtracting surface water and soil moisture from total water storage, scientists can estimate changes in deep groundwater.
InSAR (Interferometric Synthetic Aperture Radar): This radar technology measures millimeter-level changes in land elevation. When aquifers are over-pumped, the ground above them often sinks (subsidence), which InSAR detects and uses to infer water level declines.
Landsat: This program monitors land surface characteristics, such as crop health and heat. The USGS uses this to map evapotranspiration, which helps estimate how much groundwater is being pumped for irrigation. Satellite Telemetry: This is the most common operational use of satellites. The USGS equips thousands of physical wells with instrumentation that transmits real-time water level data directly to USGS ground stations via satellite.
San Diego’s Embarcadero Park. Photo provided by Storyblocks.
by Brad Barham, PhD and Robert Marcos
There’s a 33-to-1 disparity in the cost of Colorado River water that’s being utilized by the residents of San Diego, versus the residents of Brawley – both of which are in Southern California and are just 97 miles away from each other. The disparity stems from differences in two primary areas: water rights and conveyance. San Diego’s municipal water rates – which are the fourth highest for a major city in the United States, are also inflated by the city’s massive investment in recycling and desalination.
Brawley’s Senior Water Rights
Residents of Brawley are served by the Imperial Irrigation District, which holds some of the most senior water rights on the Colorado River, in particular among major users. The IIDs rights predate the 1922 Colorado River Compact and fall under “present perfected rights” which make them an exceptionally high-priority. The IID holds rights to approximately 3.1 million acre-feet of Colorado River water annually, making them the largest single user of Colorado River water.1
It’s also worth noting that the IID pays nothing for the 3.1 million acre feet of water they’re entitled to. They do however pay multiple-millions of dollars for the operation and maintenance of California’s Imperial Dam, and the All-American Canal. Farmers and residents of the Imperial Valley pay only $20 per acre-foot for the water itself, since they only need to cover local delivery costs.2 Meanwhile San Diego, which does not have senior rights must buy water at market rates. Beginning in 2026 San Diego pays the Metropolitan Water District $671 per acre-foot of water—33 times what Brawley pays for the same water.
Infrastructure and Transportation
The city of Brawley is adjacent to the All-American Canal, so it requires a minimal amount of infrastructure to move the water into town. Whereas San Diego’s imported water utilizes two large canal systems: The Edmund G. Brown California Aqueduct from the State Water Project, and the Colorado Aqueduct that travels 242 miles from Lake Havasu in the east. San Diego – in the face of chronic drought and the increased stress of climate change on imported water sources, has made long-term commitments to making water conservation a permanent way of life. Historically dependent on importing up to 90% of its water from the Colorado River and Northern California, the region is now aggressively diversifying its water portfolio to ensure sustainability: aiming to reduce demand through mandated restrictions, turf replacement programs, and widespread public education.
San Diego is preparing for a drier future
San Diego has launched massive and innovative infrastructure projects, most notably the “Pure Water San Diego” program which aims to produce nearly half of the city’s water locally by 2035, with the use of advanced water purification technology that will convert recycled wastewater into high-quality drinking water.
In 2015 the region pioneered the use of desalination with the Claude “Bud” Lewis Carlsbad Desalination Plant, which is the largest desalination plant in the United States. The plant produces up to 54 million gallons of high-quality drinking water per day, which is about 10% of the water San Diego needs, at a cost of about $3,800 per acre foot.
But the stability that these projects promise comes at a high price. Residents who were already frustrated with high energy bills now face skyrocketing water bills too. Water rates in San Diego have seen steep increases, with projections showing a 14.7% hike in 2026, followed by another 14.5% in 2027. These are largely to pay for the Pure Water program in addition to higher costs for imported water. Residents and critics have expressed frustration that water rates could rise by 44% over four years, causing many to question the rising cost of living in the region.
The Claude “Bud” Lewis Carlsbad Desalination Plant in San Diego’s North County. Photo by Robert Marcos.
by Robert Marcos
Residents in the San Diego region currently pay between $3,707 and $5,179 per acre-foot of water1, making San Diego’s municipal water the fourth most expensive in America – after San Francisco, Seattle, and Portland.2
For years San Diego relied almost entirely on a single source of municipal water: the Metropolitan Water District of Southern California. However, a severe drought in the early 1990s exposed the region’s vulnerability. This crisis sparked a multi-decade strategy by the San Diego County Water Authority to diversify its portfolio, effectively trading lower costs for long-term supply reliability.3
To break its dependence on Los Angeles, San Diego secured its own water rights through massive, high-cost agreements. This included a historic 2003 deal with the Imperial Irrigation District in the Imperial Valley, where the city pays farmers to conserve water and send it west. This “ag-to-urban” transfer, combined with paying to line the All-American Canal to prevent seepage, provided a secure but significantly more expensive supply than traditional imported water.4
The region further increased costs by investing in “drought-proof” technology, most notably the Claude “Bud” Lewis Carlsbad Desalination Plant, which opened in 2015. While it provides about 10% of the region’s water, it is the most expensive source in the portfolio, costing roughly $2,700 per acre-foot—far higher than imported Colorado River water. San Diego is also currently building the multi-billion dollar Pure Water recycling system to turn wastewater into drinking water, adding another layer of heavy infrastructure debt to monthly bills.5
Paradoxically, San Diegans’ success in water conservation has also contributed to rising rates. Because the Water Authority built massive infrastructure based on much higher population and demand projections, it must now spread the fixed costs of those debts and maintenance across fewer gallons of water sold. When residents use less water, the price per gallon must increase to cover the billions in outstanding loans for dams, pipelines, and treatment plants.6
Today the cumulative effect of these investments has made San Diego’s water rates among the highest in the country, with total bills projected to rise over 60% by 2029. While other California cities face potential shortages during droughts, San Diego often has a surplus; however, the cost of that security is borne entirely by local ratepayers through a complex “chain reaction” of wholesale price hikes and debt service.7
A dessicated palm grove northeast of Borrego Springs, CA. Photo by Robert Marcos.
by Robert Marcos, Photojournalist
For decades, the desert town of Borrego Springs – in eastern San Diego County, thrived upon what appeared to be an unlimited supply sunshine and groundwater. Lacking an alternative supply of water this isolated community was entirely dependent on the prehistoric groundwater that was lying beneath it. This finite resource acted as the lifeblood for two competing interests: a flourishing agricultural sector and a steady expansion of residential and resort development.1
The valley’s economic foundation was laid by industrial-scale agriculture. Beginning in the mid-20th century, farmers realized that the high water table and intense desert sun created perfect conditions for citrus, grapes, and nursery crops. Water was pumped aggressively to transform the arid landscape into a lush production hub. At its height, agriculture accounted for roughly 70% of the valley’s water consumption, providing the jobs and revenue that initially put Borrego Springs on the map.
Parallel to the farming boom, the town marketed itself as a serene, upscale getaway, leading to significant residential growth. Developers built golf courses, luxury resorts, and sprawling retirement communities that promised a “green” lifestyle in the middle of the desert. These amenities required massive amounts of groundwater to maintain verdant fairways and private pools. For years, the abundance of the aquifer made it easy to ignore the fact that the community was growing far beyond the environment’s natural recharge rate.2
However, the “golden age” of water use eventually hit a breaking point as the aquifer began to rapidly decline. Decades of extracting more water than the earth could replace caused the water table to drop by more than 100 feet in some areas. As the ground sank and the cost of pumping from deeper depths rose, the sustainability of the valley’s twin economies came into question. The very resource that invited growth became the primary limiting factor for its future.3
Today, Borrego Springs stands as a cautionary tale of desert over-extraction. Under California’s Sustainable Groundwater Management Act, the community has been forced to implement drastic water reductions, leading to the fallowing of many farms and strict mandates for residents. While the groundwater once fueled a dream of limitless desert prosperity, its depletion now dictates a new era of conservation, proving that growth without replenishment is ultimately a race toward an empty well.4
The Salton Sea is a paraodox for a multitude of reasons. The most striking is that the Salton Sea can exist only as long as the Imperial Valley continues to drain 1.3 million acre feet of salt and pesticide-laden runoff into it, annually. That’s exactly how much the Sea loses to evaporation every year. So ironically, the more Colorado River water that’s conserved by Imperial Valley’s farmers the faster the Salton Sea is going to dry up.1
Fact: In 1924 the federal government officially designated the Salton Sea as a permanent repository for agricultural drainage, which authorized the Imperial Irrigation District to use it as a drainage basin for irrigation runoff. This was necessary because increasing salt levels in the soil were threatening to put thousands of acres of highly-productive farmland out of production.2
The Imperial Valley functions as a critical “winter salad bowl” for the United States, yet this massive agricultural output creates a severe environmental health paradox for its residents. While intensive farming produces millions of tons of vegetables, it relies on practices like agricultural burning and heavy pesticide application that release fine particulate matter and toxic chemicals into the air. This pollution is compounded by a shrinking Salton Sea, which acts as a basin for agricultural runoff; as it dries, it exposes toxic lakebed dust containing arsenic and pesticides that wind then carries into local communities. Consequently, children in the Imperial Valley suffer from asthma at rates nearly double the California state average, with roughly one in five children diagnosed—a direct cost of the region’s agricultural success borne by its most vulnerable residents.3
The Salton Sea’s Top 10 Contradictions
It’s a vital yet highly-polluted refuge: The Sea acts as a critical Pacific Flyway habitat for millions of birds, yet it is highly contaminated with agricultural toxins, heavy metals, and selenium.
Sustained by Wastewater: The lake requires constant inflow of polluted farm drainage (tailwater) to survive; restricting this agricultural runoff is necessary for water quality but speeds up its drying.
Agriculture vs. Air Quality: Farming irrigation sustains the lake, but as water efficiency increases, less water reaches the sea, accelerating the exposure of dry lakebed (playa) and the resulting toxic dust storms.
Species Management vs. Habitat Collapse: State agencies work to protect endangered species, but the increasing salinity is killing the fish and food sources those species need.
Environmental Destruction as Restoration: Major restoration projects often involve breaking up existing, albeit shrinking, habitats to create smaller, managed ponds.
Terminal Lake Reality: It is a closed basin that cannot flush itself, meaning all contaminants from decades of agriculture are trapped and concentrated indefinitely.
Water Transfers vs. Regional Health: The Quantification Settlement Agreement (QSA) transfers water to urban areas, reducing inflows to the sea and damaging local communities’ health for external economic gain.
Natural vs. Artificial Conflict: It is managed as a wildlife refuge but was created entirely by a catastrophic engineering failure of a canal, resulting in a fragile “artificial” ecosystem.
Salinity vs. Stability: Efforts to reduce nutrient inflow (to curb algae) can lead to faster shrinking, while allowing nutrients causes massive fish die-offs and odor.
The “Green” Paradox: Developing the area for green energy—namely lithium extraction—requires long-term stability in a region deemed too dangerous for human health due to toxic air.
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
The concept of eco-nihilism has emerged as a somber byproduct of the modern climate crisis, representing a shift from proactive environmentalism to a philosophy of futility. Unlike traditional environmentalism, which is rooted in the hope of preservation and restoration, eco-nihilism posits that the ecological collapse of the planet is already underway and ultimately irreversible. The growth of this movement is largely fueled by the persistent gap between scientific warnings and political action. This increase in nihilistic environmental beliefs has been driven by several factors:
The “Foregone Conclusion” mindset: Many people, especially Gen Z, view climate catastrophe as inevitable. This leads to a “who cares” or “carpe diem” attitude, where long-term dreams are abandoned in favor of living only for the moment because the future feels “canceled”.
Perceived Futility: Seeing a lack of significant action from governments and corporations can make individual efforts (like recycling or reducing carbon footprints) feel meaningless.
Betrayal Trauma: Psychologists note a sense of “moral injury” or betrayal among youth who feel that older generations and leaders have failed to protect the planet, leading them to lose trust in the world’s underlying order and meaning.
Large-scale studies highlight the depth of this existential distress –
Frightening Future: A landmark 2021 survey of 10,000 young people (ages 16–25) across 10 countries found that 75% believe the future is “frightening”:
Impact on Daily Life: Over 45% of respondents in that same study reported that their feelings about climate change negatively affect their daily functioning.
Choosing Not to Have Children: Nearly 40% of young people globally are hesitant to have children due to climate change.
“Optimism” Nihilism vs. “Doomism”
While “climate doomism” often leads to paralysis and inaction, some adopt a form of Optimistic Nihilism. They accept that the world as they know it might end, but use that realization to lower the pressure of societal expectations and focus on immediate, small-scale kindness and personal joy.
Many climate activists and psychologists warn that nihilism can be a “luxury” or a coping mechanism that leads to compliance with the status quo, whereas “therapeutic hope”—acting as if change is possible—is necessary for mental resilience and actual progress.
A pronghorn hangs out among Wyoming wind turbines. Jonathan P. Thompson photo.
Click the link to read the article on The Denver Post website (Judith Kohler). Here’s an excerpt:
April 3, 2026
Xcel Energy is proposing a new rate class for data centers that the company says is intended to ensure that the energy-intensive facilities pay their way instead of passing along the costs to residential and small-business customers. Xcel filed the proposal Thursday with the Colorado Public Utilities Commission, or PUC. Under the proposal, data centers would have to sign 15-year contracts, provide financial assurance of cash or credit and pay substantial exit fees if they shut down early. Potential large customers would have to sign service and interconnection agreements before they’re included in the utility’s planning forecast. The provisions would apply to data centers and other facilities using at least 50 megawatts of electricity. The PUC will hold hearings and take input on Xcel’s plan in proceedings expected to take months. The commission will consider the rates, also called tariffs.
At the same time, the Colorado General Assembly is considering data center bills. One would provide sales and use tax incentives to encourage development of the centers. Another would impose regulations. Xcel, which is monitoring the legislation, wants to protect residential and other customers from any rate increases caused by data centers and other large users of electricity, said Jack Ihle, Xcel’s vice president of data centers and large loads…
Xcel’s proposal includes a clean transition tariff provision to encourage data centers to invest in carbon-free technologies. Companies would invest in those resources and receive a credit for the power the technology produces. An agreement between Minneapolis-based Xcel Energy and Google for a new data center in Minnesota calls for providing 1,400 megawatts of wind power, 200 megawatts of solar and 300 megawatts of storage.
May 6, 2023 – Volunteers with the National Renewable Energy Laboratory’s (NREL’s) ESCAPES (Education, Stewardship, and Community Action for Promoting Environmental Sustainability) program lend a hand to Jack’s Solar Garden in Longmont, Colo. Bethany Speer (left) goes back for more while Nancy Trejo distributes her wheelbarrow load to the agrivoltaic plots. (Photo by Bryan Bechtold / NREL)
Climate change is significantly disrupting global coffee production by altering the specific environmental conditions—mild temperatures and predictable rainfall—that coffee plants require to thrive. These shifts are leading to reduced yields, lower bean quality, and a dramatic decrease in land suitable for cultivation.
Stock photograph of coffee beans provided by Storyblocks
Key Impacts on Coffee Production
Drastic Yield Reductions: Research indicates that for every increase in average air temperature, coffee production can decrease by approximately 14%. Top producers like Brazil, Vietnam, and Colombia have already experienced significant yield losses due to extreme heat and prolonged droughts.
Loss of Suitable Land: Projections suggest that up to 50% of the land currently used for coffee farming could become unproductive by 2050. This is forcing farmers to migrate to higher, cooler elevations, which is often limited by available terrain and can lead to further deforestation.
Accelerated Pest and Disease Spread: Warmer, wetter conditions are expanding the range of devastating threats like coffee leaf rust (a fungus) and the coffee berry borer (a beetle). These pests are now reaching higher altitudes that were previously too cool for them to survive, causing billions in damages.
Declining Bean Quality: Rising temperatures cause coffee cherries to ripen too quickly, resulting in smaller beans with less complex flavor profiles and lower acidity. This particularly threatens the specialty coffee market, which relies on the delicate Arabica variety.
SACRAMENTO, Calif. – The Department of Water Resources (DWR) today conducted the critical April snow survey at Phillips Station and found no measurable snow, a stark indicator of how record‑hot March temperatures and high‑elevation rain have erased the Sierra Nevada snowpack months ahead of schedule. The combination of warm storms and unusually hot temperatures rapidly melted what remained of this year’s already sparse snowpack. Statewide, the snowpack is now just 18 percent of average for this date, according to the automated snow sensor network.
Today’s results are the second lowest April measurement on record for Phillips Station, largely because there was still some visible snow on the ground. By contrast, the lowest April reading occurred in 2015 when no snow was present at the site. Although DWR and its partners in the California Cooperative Snow Surveys Program are completing additional surveys across the Sierra Nevada, preliminary data indicates this year’s April 1 snowpack is the second lowest on record.
The April measurement is a critical marker for water managers across the state, as it is typically when the snowpack reaches its maximum volume and begins to melt. However, this year’s extremely hot and dry conditions throughout the month of March, along with a warm atmospheric river system in late February, initiated snowmelt several weeks ahead of schedule. According to automated sensors across the Sierra Nevada, this year’s statewide snowpack likely reached its peak on or near February 24.
“It feels like we skipped spring this year and dropped straight into a summer heatwave,” said DWR Director Karla Nemeth. “What should be gradual snowmelt happened suddenly weeks ago. To me, this is another reminder that aging water systems need to be retrofit for more volatile precipitation patterns. We’re seeing fewer, warmer storms and shorter wet seasons. Future water supplies will depend upon our ability to capture water when it’s available and manage it more efficiently.”
DWR’s water supply forecasts use data from the April 1 snowpack to calculate how much snowmelt runoff will eventually make its way into California’s rivers and reservoirs. This information is critical for reservoir managers, who must balance flood control and water supply goals through the winter and depend on snowmelt to slowly refill reservoirs as demand increases during the dry season.
Given the unprecedented heatwave across the West in March, DWR and its partners expanded monitoring efforts to better track this year’s rapid snowmelt, including 100 additional mid-month snow surveys across 18 critical watersheds. The California Cooperative Snow Surveys Program has also been working closely with partner agencies to monitor the snowmelt and ensure water managers have the information they need to make informed water management decisions.
DWR has focused efforts over the past five years to understand and track how snowpack accumulation and melt translates into water supply, which has aided efforts to forecast runoff in new extreme climate conditions. New snow hydrology modeling in key watersheds gives DWR better insights into the changing physical state of the snowpack. Expanding data collection efforts with Airborne Snow Observatories Inc. and academic research partners, including UC Berkeley’s Central Sierra Snow Lab, now also allow DWR to consider factors like changes in soil moisture and snowpack temperature in its runoff forecasts.
“What makes this year stand out is the disconnect between precipitation and snowpack,” said Andy Reising, manager of DWR’s Snow Surveys and Water Supply Forecasting Unit. “We received near-average precipitation in many parts of the state, but much of it fell as rain instead of snow. That led to one of the lowest April snowpacks on record and one of the earliest peaks we’ve seen in decades — conditions that make forecasting runoff more complex.”
Although some additional snow is forecasted to arrive in the coming days, it is not likely to make up for the rapid snowmelt and hot, dry March. In the Northern Sierra Nevada, where the state’s largest water supply reservoirs are located, the snowpack is just 6 percent of average.
Measuring California’s snowpack is a key component of water management. On average, California’s snowpack supplies about 30 percent of California’s water needs. Its natural ability to store water is why California’s snowpack is often referred to as California’s “frozen reservoir.”
The data and measurements collected from DWR and its partners with the California Cooperative Snow Surveys Program help inform the water supply and snowmelt runoff forecasts, known as the Bulletin 120, that help water managers plan for how much water will eventually reach state reservoirs in the spring and summer. This information is also a key piece in calculating State Water Project allocation updates each month. Learn more about how snow melt makes its way into State Water Project reservoirs each spring.
DWR conducts four or five snow surveys at Phillips Station each winter near the first of each month, January through April and, if necessary, May.
Click the link to read the article on the Summit Daily website (Ryan Spencer). Here’s an excerpt:
March 30, 2026
As Colorado’s snowpack tracked near record-lows all winter long, state climatologists pointed to two previous winters that had potentially been worse than this year: the seasons of 1976-77 and 1980-81. Now, after an “unprecedented” spring heat wave, the Colorado Climate Center says the state is probably experiencing its worst snowpack on record for this time of year, worse even than those two historically bad seasons for snowfall…With Colorado’s snowpack already sitting near historical lows nearly all winter, Mazurek said the extended period of extremely hot temperatures this month has “exacerbated an already bad situation” as it has fueled a rapid melt off. On average, Colorado’s snowpack peaks on April 7, so the state should still be adding to its snowpack throughout the month of March, Mazurek said. But this year, she said that the state’s snowpack has probably already peaked and the heatwave has driven a “massive nosedive” in the state’s snowpack…Over the roughly two-week heatwave, the snow telemetry data shows that Colorado’s statewide snowpack has declined by more than 50%, losing just shy of 5 inches of snow-water equivalent, from a peak of 8.5 inches. Statewide, the snowpack for this time of year is just 24% of normal, according to the data.
As of early 2026, many American cities face critical threats to their municipal water supplies due to a combination of overdrawn aquifers, shrinking reservoirs, and aging infrastructure. While historically associated with the Southwest, water stress has increasingly impacted the Northeast and Midwest due to infrastructure failures and shifting climate pattern
Here are twenty American cities most threatened by a potential reduction of municipal water supplies:
Phoenix, AZ: Rapid population growth and heavy reliance on the Colorado River, which is facing record-low supply levels.
Las Vegas, NV: Highly dependent on Lake Mead, which has hovered near “dead pool” levels where water can no longer flow downstream.
Los Angeles, CA: Relies on water imported from hundreds of miles away; recent wildfires have also exposed weaknesses in emergency water-flow capacity.
San Antonio, TX: Its primary source, the Edwards Aquifer, is under intense pressure from drought and high demand.
Miami, FL: Faced with “saltwater intrusion,” where rising sea levels push salt water into the freshwater aquifers used for municipal drinking water.
El Paso, TX: Situated in the Chihuahuan Desert with very few local water sources; it is racing to open a large-scale water purification facility in 2026.
Salt Lake City, UT: Threatened by dwindling snowpack and the shrinking of the Great Salt Lake, which affects regional groundwater recharge.
San Diego, CA: Faces chronic drought and heavy reliance on external sources, leading to massive investments in desalination and recycling.
Atlanta, GA: Struggling with aging, century-old pipes that suffer frequent major breaks, leading to multiple citywide states of emergency.
Lincoln, NE: Highly vulnerable to extreme climate swings and drought that impact its regional water table
Chicago, IL: Despite its proximity to Lake Michigan, the city faces significant water loss due to aging infrastructure and stressed inland aquifers.
New York City, NY: Massive demand and future climate pressure, combined with “subsidence” (sinking land), strain its massive tunnel delivery system.
Denver, CO: Declining snowpack in the Rockies has significantly reduced the flow of the rivers the city depends on.
Jackson, MS: Suffered a near-total system collapse due to decades of underfunding and storm damage, leaving residents without safe water for weeks.
San Jose, CA: Dealing with overdrawn aquifers that have led to significant land sinking and infrastructure damage.
Riverside, CA: High population growth and limited local supply have created a narrow margin of water safety.
Corpus Christi, TX: Its reservoirs have reached dangerously low levels, forcing the city to spend hundreds of millions on new groundwater projects.
Santa Fe, NM: A small city with extremely high vulnerability to prolonged drought due to its limited catchment area.
Philadelphia, PA: Faces increasing risk from saltwater moving up the Delaware River, which can contaminate municipal intakes.
Mathis, TX: A critical example of a small municipality where the only water source, Lake Corpus Christi, reached such low levels that intake valves risked drawing sludge.
Western water law must evolve from rigid allocation toward flexible, climate‑smart governance that treats scarcity as the new normal rather than as a temporary emergency. This means rebalancing private rights, public interests, and ecological needs as hydrologic baselines shift.1
First: Prior appropriation’s “first in time, first in right” framework must incorporate stronger rationality and waste limits that reflect hotter, drier conditions, so senior rights cannot indefinitely lock in inefficient or low‑value uses while communities and ecosystems face crisis. Enforcing existing public interest and beneficial use doctrines can gradually reorient supplies toward municipal, tribal, and environmental needs without immediately dismantling the system.2
Second, law must explicitly integrate surface and groundwater, recognizing their physical connectivity and managing them conjunctively rather than independently. This includes permitting and monitoring currently under‑regulated aquifers, tying new pumping to basin‑wide sustainable yield, and curbing withdrawals that quietly undermine river flows and senior rights.3
Third, states need adaptive institutions—water banks, drought reserves, and public or tribal “water trusts”—that can temporarily or permanently acquire rights for critical uses and instream flows. Well‑designed markets and compensated transfers can move water from low‑value irrigation to cities, habitat, and cultural uses while softening political resistance from existing right holders.4
Finally, western water law must better protect ecosystems and vulnerable communities by embedding minimum environmental flows, tribal water security, and rural drinking water reliability into baseline allocation rules, not as afterthoughts. Climate change is making yesterday’s assumptions about snowpack and river yield obsolete, so western water law must become more precautionary, data‑driven, iterative, and able to adjust allocations as science reveals a rapidly changing hydrology.5
While it looks like a dusty, silver-gray desert shrub, guayule – which originated in Northern Mexico, is essentially a “living rubber factory. As of 2026 the plant gaining serious traction as a potential savior for farmers in the American Southwest—particularly in Arizona and California—who are facing catastrophic cut to their use of Colorado River water.1
Why Guayule may be a “Rescue” Crop
Farmers in the West are in a bind: water intensive crops like alfalfa, corn, and cotton are becoming nearly impossible to grow with dwindling water allotments. Guayule is stepping into that gap for several reasons:
Extreme Water Efficiency: Guayule uses roughly 50% less water than cotton or alfalfa. In Pinal County, Arizona, it’s estimated that switching to guayule could save 15% of the total agricultural water usage.2
Heat & Salt Tolerance: It doesn’t just survive the desert heat; it thrives in it. It can also handle the high-salinity soil that often plagues fields where irrigation water has evaporated over decades.
Domestic Rubber Security: Currently, almost all the world’s natural rubber comes from Hevea trees in Southeast Asia. Guayule provides a domestic, “Made in the USA” source of rubber for tires and medical supplies.3
Hypoallergenic Latex: Unlike traditional rubber, guayule latex lacks the proteins that cause “Type I” latex allergies, making it a premium material for surgical gloves.
The “Catch”
The hurdle isn’t growing the guayule; it’s the infrastructure. Farmers can’t switch overnight because they need specialized processing plants to extract the rubber from the shrub’s bark. However, companies like Bridgestone have been scaling up commercial-grade tire production using guayule, signaling that the supply chain is finally catching up to the climate reality.4
Other Resilient Contenders
While Guayule is the heavy hitter for the Southwest, a few other “underreported” crops are being trialed to rescue Western and Plains farmers in 2026:
Kernza: A perennial grain with 10-foot-deep roots. It doesn’t need to be replanted every year, preventing soil erosion and sequestering massive amounts of carbon.
Teff: An ancient Ethiopian grain that is highly drought-tolerant and serves as a high-value, water-wise forage for horses and livestock.
Amaranth: A “pseudo-cereal” that requires very little water and produces highly nutritious seeds and leaves, often used in health-food markets.
Hemp: Industrial hemp requires significantly less water per kilogram than cotton and other crops. So it can flourish with less irrigation, making it ideal for regions with scarce water resources. Hemp’s deep roots improve soil structure, which aids in water retention and prevents soil erosion and its cultivation helps to minimize agricultural runoff.
In the past two to three years there’ve been important advances both in enteric methane‑reducing feed additives and in manure‑focused technologies, and several options have progressed from the laboratory to commercial use.
What’s new?
3‑NOP (Bovaer): Now the most advanced commercial additive, approved in 60+ countries and marketed in the U.S. by Elanco, with typical methane reductions of about 30% in dairy and beef cattle at very low doses. It works by inhibiting a key enzyme in the rumen’s methanogenesis pathway without harming animal performance1.
Red seaweed and bromoform products: Asparagopsis‑based seaweed supplements can cut enteric methane by over 80–90% in controlled studies, and work is shifting toward purified bromoform or standardized products rather than raw seaweed to control variability and safety. Several pilot trials are underway in Australia, the EU, and the U.S., but broad regulatory approval is still pending2.
Other additives under study: Research programs (e.g., Teagasc, CSU AgNext) are testing oils, grain‑industry by‑products, probiotics, and other inhibitors; some trials in housed cattle report up to 30% methane reduction with no productivity loss, though pasture‑based delivery remains a major challenge3.
Adoption status: A recent technical review notes that methane‑inhibiting feed additives are now the fastest‑emerging enteric solution, with strong private investment but limited on‑farm uptake so far due to cost, regulation, and farmer skepticism4.
Carbon capture has moved from niche demonstrations to early commercial deployment, with rapid progress in new materials, direct air capture plants, and conversion of CO₂ into products. But unfortunately its high cost and the challenge of upscaling it restricts its large-scale implementation.
Carbon capture, utilization and storage (CCUS) covers technologies that trap CO₂ from large sources (power plants, cement, steel), move it, then either store it underground or use it in products. It complements cutting emissions at the source rather than replacing them; most climate scenarios that hit net‑zero use some CCUS for hard‑to‑abate sectors.
Bar graph of global carbon capture and storage, by RCraig09 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0
Main types of capture
Post‑combustion: CO₂ is removed from exhaust gases after fuel is burned, typically using chemical solvents; it is the main option for retrofitting existing plants and factories.
Pre‑combustion: fuel is converted to a mixture of hydrogen and CO₂ before burning, and the CO₂ is separated at high pressure; more common in new industrial or power processes.
Oxy‑fuel combustion: fuel burns in nearly pure oxygen, producing a flue gas that is mostly CO₂ and water, which makes capture easier but requires expensive oxygen production.
Direct air capture (DAC): large fans pull ambient air through filters or solvents that bind CO₂; the captured CO₂ is then concentrated and stored or used.
New materials and efficiency gains
New sorbents such as metal‑organic frameworks (MOFs) act like highly porous “sponges” for CO₂ and have enabled lab systems that reach around 99% capture while cutting energy use versus traditional solvents. Recent MOF‑based systems report about a 17% reduction in energy requirements and roughly 19% lower operating costs compared with older capture setups, mainly by improving how CO₂ is adsorbed and released. Solid sorbents and adsorption processes are gaining patent share as industry shifts away from classic liquid amine systems that have higher energy penalties.
Nanotechnology is a hot area: experimental nanomaterials and membranes promise lower‑pressure, lower‑energy capture, and one new nanofiltration membrane platform has been reported to make certain carbon capture steps several times more efficient and up to about 30% cheaper.
Where the captured CO₂ goes
Geological storage: CO₂ is compressed and injected deep underground into depleted oil and gas reservoirs or saline formations, where it is intended to remain trapped for centuries or longer.
Utilization: captured CO₂ can be used to make synthetic fuels, chemicals, and building materials, or for enhanced oil recovery; there is growing focus on converting CO₂ electrochemically into carbon monoxide, methane, or other feedstocks using renewable electricity.
Emerging processes link capture directly with conversion (for example, “power‑to‑gas” that turns CO₂ and hydrogen into methane), offering energy storage and product value but still facing efficiency and cost hurdles.
2026: the Promise vs. the Reality
Activity is accelerating: patent analyses show strong growth in CCUS and DAC, with particular emphasis on new materials, electrochemical processes, and better heat and mass‑transfer engineering to cut costs. Direct air capture is operating at small but growing scales; it attracts attention because it can reduce atmospheric CO₂ directly, but it remains energy‑intensive and expensive per ton compared with capturing from large point sources.
Policy incentives, such as tax credits and industrial decarbonization mandates, are driving more projects in heavy industry, especially in countries like the United States and Canada. But key concerns remain: high capital and operating costs, the need for extensive CO₂ transport and storage infrastructure, and uncertainties about the integrity of long-term storage.
As the American West gets hotter, farmers will need more water to irrigate the same amount of crops1. More water will also be required to cool the generators that will supply energy to an ever-increasing number of air conditioning systems in hundreds of thousands of homes and businesses2.
Why hotter air means thirstier crops
Warmer air has a higher vapor pressure deficit, so it “pulls” more moisture out of soil and plant leaves, increasing evapotranspiration. This means that to get the same crop yield, farmers must apply more water per acre because a larger fraction of applied water is lost to the atmosphere rather than staying in the root zone.
Earlier snowmelt and reduced snowpack in Western mountains expose soils sooner to heat and sun, drying them out faster and further increasing irrigation needs. The same corn field will need more irrigation in 2050 than it did in 1980 just to achieve the same yield, because the atmosphere is “thirstier.”
Why hotter days use more electricity
Steam rising from cooling towers at the CalEnergy JM Leathers Geothermal Plant at California’s Salton Sea. Photo by Robert Marcos
Higher temperatures drive up electricity demand because homes, offices, and industry run air conditioners and refrigeration harder and for longer periods. Much of that electricity still comes from thermoelectric power plants (coal, gas, nuclear) that use large volumes of freshwater for cooling, either withdrawing it and returning it warmer or consuming a portion through evaporation3.
As air and water warm, these plants run less efficiently and may need even more cooling water per unit of electricity generated, increasing water use just when rivers and reservoirs are under stress. In very hot, dry years, this can create a feedback: heat raises AC demand, AC demand raises power plant water demand, low flows and high water temperatures then constrain power plants, risking reliability problems4.
Warming reduces the share of precipitation that reaches reservoirs and aquifers: more evaporates or is soaked up by drier soils before it becomes runoff. Western water systems and legal allocations were designed assuming a more stable climate and more reliable snowpack; under warming, those assumptions are breaking down, reducing dependable supplies for both farms and power plants. The result is a tightening water budget: less water coming into the system at the same time that crops, cities, and energy systems are all asking for more.
Nations around the world are restoring their over-taxed river systems by establishing basin‑wide flow targets, by reserving large quantities of water to maintain riverine environments, by making major cuts in consumptive use, and by removing man-made infrastructure that impeded the natural flow of water.
Australia’s response to the “Millennium Drought” is often cited as a blueprint for the recovery of America’s Colorado River. The Water Act 2007 was Australia’s primary federal legislation for managing the Murray–Darling Basin. Enacted during the Millennium Drought, it shifted water management from a state-by-state approach to a centralized federal framework to ensure long-term water security and environmental sustainability.
Australia’s Water Act 2007 included –
Water Buybacks: The government spent billions to “buy back” water entitlements from willing farmers to return them to the environment, thereby restoring river health.
Water Markets: Australia pioneered “unbundling” water from land, allowing it to be traded as a commodity. This incentivized a shift from low-value, water-heavy crops like rice to high-value ones like almonds.
Legal and remedial reforms: Basin‑wide laws or plans that set enforceable extraction limits and prioritize maintaining minimum environmental flows. Explicit recognition of ecological flow requirements in allocation agreements, sometimes including reserved environmental flow shares in international draft treaties.
Reducing consumptive use: Cutting irrigation diversions and changing crop patterns or technologies so that more water remains in the channel, as highlighted for the Baaka‑Darling. Using pricing, buy‑backs of water rights, and efficiency programs to retire or shrink high‑impact uses while compensating users.
Restoring environmental flows and re‑operating infrastructure. Dedicating a defined volume of water each year as environmental water and delivering it strategically to key river reaches and wetlands.
Re‑operating reservoir cascades to mimic aspects of natural flow regimes (e.g., Yellow River WSRS using coordinated reservoir releases and artificial flood waves for sediment and flow objectives).
Ecological and land‑use restoration: Large‑scale re‑vegetation and land‑use change in upper basins to reduce erosion, improve infiltration, and stabilize hydrology. Floodplain, marsh, and wetland restoration to increase “sponge” capacity, store water during high flows, and sustain baseflows, as in Rhine marsh and broader European river projects.
Infrastructure removal and nature‑based solutions: Removing or modifying barriers (small and large dams, weirs) to reconnect fragmented river sections, restore sediment and fish passage, and improve overall river health; the EU has set a goal to reconnect 25,000 km of rivers by 2030 through such measures.
Implementing local, low‑tech retention structures (e.g., “beaver dams”), to enhance groundwater recharge, moderate extremes, and empower community‑based management.
The Colorado River passing Grand Junction, Colorado. Photo by Robert Marcos.
The summer-like heat in the American West is being caused by a combination of persistent high‑pressure systems, long‑term warming from climate change, and an ever-worsening drought.1
The main condition behind the current weather is the development of strong, stagnant high‑pressure ridges, often called “heat domes,” over the western United States. In these patterns, air sinks over the region, compresses, and warms (adiabatic warming), while clear skies allow intense solar heating of the surface. Because the high pressure suppresses cloud formation and storm systems, the hot air remains parked in place for days or weeks, letting temperatures climb far above normal.2
These weather patterns are occurring on top of a background of human‑driven climate warming, which raises the baseline temperature so that heat waves start from a hotter average and break records more easily. Studies of recent western and Pacific Northwest heat waves show that such extremes would have been virtually impossible, or far less intense, without anthropogenic greenhouse gas emissions. Warmer air also increases “evaporative demand,” meaning the atmosphere pulls more moisture from soils, vegetation, and water bodies, further drying the landscape.3
At the same time, much of the West has been in a long‑running drought or “megadrought,” with declining rain and snowpack, especially in the Southwest and Colorado River basin. Low snowpack and early melt remove a natural cooling reservoir, so land surfaces heat up faster and earlier in the warm season. With drier soils and sparse vegetation, more of the sun’s energy goes directly into raising air temperature rather than evaporating water, amplifying surface heat and extending fire season.4
Finally, ocean–atmosphere patterns over the Pacific, such as persistent ridging and a positive phase of broader circulation patterns, help steer and reinforce these high‑pressure systems over the West in summer. Together, these intertwined conditions—blocking high pressure, climate‑driven warming, deepening drought, and altered atmospheric circulation—have produced the unusually intense and frequent summertime heat now characterizing the American West.5