These are desperate days for the Colorado River
The pulsing lifeblood of the U.S. southwest is increasingly parched. To avert catastrophe, the U.S. government will, within weeks, propose historic cuts in water access. It’s a frantic move to protect a river that provides so much: drinking water for tens of millions of people, electricity and food. Lots of food
This indispensable waterway supplies farms that feed hundreds of millions of people, throughout the continent — including Canadians
Ever wonder how those fresh green vegetables get to your grocery store in the dead of a Canadian winter? Here’s your answer
The vast majority of lettuce Canada imports in winter, and much of its broccoli, cauliflower and spinach, comes from Arizona and California farms irrigated with water from the Colorado River. In fact, at least 70 per cent of this river’s water is used for agriculture, according to a 2020 study
And the water level is shrinking
Fields like these, on California’s border with Arizona, produce the vast majority of lettuce Canadians consume in winter. (Jason Burles/CBC)
Under historic agreements, including the Colorado River Compact of 1922, the river gets split three ways: 7.5 million acre-feet of water goes to four upstream states each year, 7.5 million goes to three downstream states, and Mexico gets 1.5 million. That’s 16.5 million acre-feet per year. (An acre-foot — the equivalent to a soccer field, covered in one foot of water — is about enough to supply one or two households per year)
But there’s a problem. A classic imbalance of supply and demand: Too little water supply, too much demand
The river, in other words, is running a deficit. It’s been happening since around 2000 and it’s getting worse
There’s a trifecta of factors causing the trouble: A long-ago math miscalculation; then a population boom; and finally a hotter, drier climate
A century ago, policymakers overestimated the Colorado River flow; that flow has, since 1906, averaged 10 per cent lower than expected
It’s been exacerbated by factor No. 2: a once-in-a-millennium drought now entering its third decade. Since 2000, the river has produced 25 per cent less than its historic allocation, according to recent congressional research
Then there’s higher-than-expected demand. New residents have flocked to the U.S. southwest in recent decades in a population boom that saw cities like Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix and Las Vegas sprout into metropolises
So this river system that was built to irrigate farms wound up supplying some 40 million people. It’s being over-used — by about one-third
There’s now a race to avert a catastrophe, one with an appropriately ominous-sounding name: it’s called dead pool
Dead pool is what happens when the water drops so low that it just sits there, stuck, stagnant behind a dam. These dams are the pumping heart of the southwestern U.S. water system, feeding irrigation canals, homes and power lines. With these dams paralyzed, the system collapses
The most famous? The Hoover Dam, near Las Vegas.Behind that dam, a reservoir, Lake Mead, has seen its water level plunge
If the downward spiral of the last three years persists, the dam would, in just a few years, stop generating electricity (known as inactive pool), imperilling a power supply equivalent to what’s used by over one million homes
Then a few more years after that, should the trend continue, the Lake Mead reservoir could fall to 270 metres, where the flow of water halts: Dead pool
The pumping heart of the Colorado River system is at risk of failure. Water levels are declining at unsustainable rates, including here, at the Lake Mead reservoir behind the Hoover Dam. (John Locher/The Associated Press, Justin Sullivan/Getty Images)
Enter the federal government. The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation was founded in 1902 to build and manage water systems in the fast-developing western states. It’s now sounding the alarm over what it calls the most severe challenge in its history
It has announced cutbacks are urgently required to avert an unprecedented crisis, and this is in addition to previously planned cuts
It wants a reduction by millions of acre-feet which, combined with existing reductions, amounts to a clawback of 20 to 40 per cent in water use
“That’s huge. Unthinkable, frankly,” said Paul Brierly, a farmer and researcher at the University of Arizona in Yuma
The hard part? Deciding who gets what. States have tried for months to negotiate a voluntary agreement amongst themselves, as they historically have
So far they’ve failed. Since last year, they’ve missed two deadlines
Now the federal government is expected to take the unprecedented step of releasing its own proposal within weeks; that draft proposal would be finalized this summer and take effect later this year
Cue the arguments. There’s an old saying in these parts, attributed, perhaps incorrectly, to the author Mark Twain: Whiskey is for drinking, water is for fighting over
In this period of scarcity, difficult decisions are being made. And it’s pitting state versus state: upstream states versus downstream ones — and the heaviest-using state, California, against everyone else. It’s pitting farmers against city-dwellers. Older population centres against newer ones. All of them vying for water rights
California has a powerful legal argument: it has established rights, predating the growth of neighbouring states
The neighbouring states counter with a moral argument: You can’t just cut off water to millions of their homes so California can carry on with business as usual
When it comes to California, Arizona farmer Terry Button says: “They need to step it up.… And the cities, too”
One thing is almost certain. Any federal plan will provoke lawsuits, with potentially lengthy legal fights
The biggest losers in two recent rounds of cuts were central Arizona farmers, which is exactly as planned
In the event of shortages, this state, and especially the centre of this state, is first on the chopping block
That’s partly due to a carefully negotiated agreement in the 1960s: it gave central Arizona a new canal, but gave California priority access in the event of a shortage. The result? Arizona has already lost 21 per cent of its river access entering this year. And that’s excluding the upcoming federal cuts
California, so far, has lost zero per cent
Agriculture is estimated to use more than 70 per cent of the Colorado River’s water, setting up a tension between farmers and city-dwellers. (Jason Burles/CBC)
Some of Nancy Caywood’s land is now dusty and fallow. She’s a farmer south of Phoenix whose family has been working this land for five generations. Her parents went on their first date at a nearby highway bar where country legend Waylon Jennings got his start
Farms in her area face new threats, and not just from California. Cities are exploding in growth. Expanding suburbs and industrial parks have created competition for precious water and, she says, the city-dwellers want the farmers gone
“People who move into this area — they call us things … ‘podunk farmers’ and ‘inbreds,’” Caywood says
She recalled being at a store recently and hearing two ladies talking. One just moved here from California, and Caywood recalled her saying: I hate farmers. … They trash our air. They pollute our soil. They use our water
She said she believes urban areas, and California, need to take more cuts in the next round
It’s not just farmers struggling. A feud has erupted in a prosperous Phoenix suburb. One community was cut off its water supply. Rio Verde Foothills has grown quickly in the desert. Ranch country is turning into subdivisions. There is, for now, no municipal government
The unincorporated community was buying water from the city of Scottsdale, getting it hauled to homes in trucks. Until Jan. 1, when Scottsdale stopped the sales
Now water trucks are travelling from further away to supply this community, more than doubling prices overnight. People are showering at gyms, eating on paper plates, collecting rain water to flush the toilet, even using toilets less frequently
It all goes back to the Colorado River
That’s where Scottsdale gets most of its drinking water and it has a limited annual entitlement: 81,000 acre-feet per year. It’s been forced to cut five per cent since 2021, and is bracing for far more severe cuts. To preserve its own water, it dumped the customer next door
The communities are now trying to work out a stopgap plan as Rio Verde Foothills finds a longer-term solution
Easier said than done, however. Residents have feuded over who should lead the project
Karen Nabity proposed creating a public water utility and said she received threats from residents who don’t want government in their unincorporated community and who prefer to hire a private company, a subsidiary of Edmonton-based Epcor. She filed a police report while friends kept watch over her front porch
Another resident, horse-breeder Mike Miola, laments: “It’s getting mean. People are angry
This unincorporated community of Rio Verde Foothills, northeast of Phoenix, has lost its regular water supplier. Now water-haulers like John Hornewer, lower right, are struggling to supply customers here. (Jason Burles/CBC)
Here’s one way to solve the problem: Stop growing alfalfa. Animal feed uses a staggering share of the river’s water, about half
But if only it were that simple. This is cowboy country, and cows love alfalfa. Proximity to the feed supports the regional cattle and dairy industries. Farmers also love alfalfa. It’s great for the soil, providing nutrients. It’s easy to harvest and requires fewer workers than, say, lettuce. That makes it especially popular with small-scale farmers
In the Indigenous Gila River community, alfalfa farmer Brian Davis says he couldn’t grow lettuce here. It’s too far from border communities where Mexican migrants enter the U.S. under federal guest-worker programs
“Here it’d be too costly for me,” Davis said. “Where am I gonna get my labour from”
Davis holds some influence: he’s a local councillor and his community is a powerful player in water management. It’s been an adjustment
This Indigenous community suffered historic atrocities. In the late 19th century, settlers in neighbouring towns diverted the nearby Gila River. That destroyed ancient agricultural practices and triggered a years-long famine
“Everybody recognized that what had happened here was a travesty,” said David DeJong, who is the local water manager
He recalls one indignity he witnessed while teaching in a local high school after he moved here in 1992. A girl ran into the classroom shouting that there had been a fire outside. The community had no fire department. So students — his students — ran out to fight the blaze
One of the first things the community did after opening a casino, he said, was use the revenue to build a fire department. It also paid for lawyers. After generations of court fights, the Gila River community finally won water access. It gained 653,000 acre-feet per year from various sources in a 2004 settlement, including Colorado River water
The community now controls twice as much water as the state of Nevada, selling it and storing it for other jurisdictions
David DeJong, shown in the top two images, is the water manager in the Gila River Indigenous community. He says new technology here, and across Arizona, is saving water and preventing waste. (Jason Burles/CBC)
DeJong is now in the midst of a major refurbishment. The goal? Reduce waste
Old dirt ditches are on the way out. Irrigation canals are now being lined with concrete to reduce seepage. Rusty old gates have been replaced by marine-grade steel, operated remotely. He’s starting to cover canals with solar panels, to limit evaporation while also generating electricity
Throughout the state, solar panels are going up over parts of fields; that limits excess sun exposure and evaporation
In an office, DeJong points at a map. One location, he says, was losing 70 per cent of its water; now it’s losing, at most, five per cent, in the summer heat
At the University of Arizona, Brierley says technologies can help save water: drip irrigation, soil-monitoring equipment, and wireless communication in farms that can communicate the exact amount of water every crop needs
A longtime farmer, Brierley is now an engineer working on agricultural technology: “I think that’ll be the solution to a lot of our problems
Farm communities are looking to Washington for funding. Recent federal laws have set aside billions for new water technology in the southwest
This region has been a farming powerhouse for more than a century. According to local lore, in the 1800s, a passerby during the California gold rush noticed something special about that state’s Imperial Valley: how perfectly rich soil, under warm, sunny skies, happened to be sitting near the river, but on lower ground. If only they’d dig a canal and let gravity do its work, water would flow down and make this place an agricultural marvel
In the ensuing decades, the infrastructure was indeed built, capped by the monumental Hoover Dam in the 1930s. Ever since, water rights here have operated on a first-come-first-served principle, and the oldest agricultural areas have priority: southern California, and a pocket of southern Arizona
That’s where so many of those mid-winter veggies come from. But now this region, too, faces potential cuts under that looming federal emergency plan
Fear not: Lettuce-growing will continue. It’s a lucrative crop, requiring little water. So is broccoli. But if this region takes a water cut, as expected, there will still be consequences
Farmer Matt McGuire says he’ll have to reduce his growing acreage. He rattles off a range of ripple effects he expects, should he curtail production: Less alfalfa, which means more expensive cattle feed and dairy products in this region; less durum wheat, which means fewer supplies for pasta-makers; and, he said, farmers scrambling to replace lost revenues from fallow fields. That, he figures, will likely lead to a 10-per-cent markup on goods like lettuce
“It’s gonna drive up the cost of vegetables,” said McGuire, chief agricultural officer of JV Smith Companies, which supplies major food importers in Canada and the U.S. For a glimpse of what that might look like, look no further than your own grocery store
Last fall, a lettuce shortage caused by drought and disease sent prices spiraling
In a sense, every story is connected. Take migration. The world is seeing a historic volume of human movement, driven by conflict, crime and climate crises
It so happens that one of the well-trod footpaths into the U.S., used by migrants, lies amid irrigated farms. In the spot where Arizona, California and Mexico all touch, migrants walk across, touch American soil and claim asylum
As they enter the U.S., they walk right over a dry riverbed
This used to be the Colorado River, before it was diverted at the Mexican border in the early 1900s. Now it’s dust. Dust, surrounded by green fields
And the race is on to keep the dust from spreading
