Essay by Martha Quillen
Water – September 2004 – Colorado Central Magazine
DURING THE LAST WEEK OF July, Ed and I attended the 29th annual Colorado Water Workshop at Western State College (better known in our house as George’s water conference), an annual forum for water professionals, including water lawyers, scientists, technologists, managers, and engineers. Participants addressed a question that has been the subject of much discourse recently: Is our drought over?
The answer, however, was that no one knew — not climatologists, or tree-ring experts, or water historians.
It may please readers to know, though, that our recent drought was probably not as bad as we thought. Records show that a drought from 1953 to 1955 may have been more severe than the 2000-2002 event. And tree-ring reconstructions reveal droughts in the 1840s and 1580s which were considerably worse than the 1953 and 2000 events.
Streamflow reconstructions based upon tree-ring data seem to be fairly reliable and extend our perspective back to 1437; they put our most recent drought in 16th place. That means our drought was not actually a 1000-year event as previously announced (or even a 500-year or 100-year event). On the contrary, this drought was matched a mere 50 years ago.
Perhaps that isn’t such pleasing news after all, but the presentations on tree-ring reconstructions and climatology were interesting, nonetheless.
Especially intriguing was the suggestion that history may not repeat itself. Although tree-rings indicate that frequent, severe droughts were common in the 1600s, experts aren’t sure if that says anything about what will happen in the future, because our present weather may not follow past patterns. Instead, climatologists see some evidence that our climate may be getting more volatile, swinging from very dry to very wet periods and back at a more frequent pace. On the whole, the only definite conclusion that the water technologists could agree upon was that even they can’t predict the future.
This year’s water conference played to a packed house and featured presentations on recent developments. But very few laymen attended, and even reporters were rare — probably because the discourse assumes an intimate familiarity with water terms, systems, and law.
That was, perhaps, for the best, though, since jibes about the “popular press” were commonplace on-stage.
Unfortunately, I can’t argue that the water experts’ scorn is displaced. In fact, I regard my own knowledge about water issues as mediocre; yet my awareness is good enough for me to notice that many news stories about water get a lot wrong. And the problem with the media goes beyond getting a few things wrong on occasion. In fact, some water stories are darned near nonsensical — and make it all too clear that the reporter doesn’t understand Colorado water issues or law.
But that’s certainly nothing new. The best example of such gross incompetence that I can recall happened thirty years ago when Ed and I were living in Grand County. A rancher in the region went to court to accuse the Denver Water Board of misappropriating (stealing) his water, and Denver lost its case and had to pay.
AFTER ALL OF THESE YEARS, I’ve forgotten most of the details about that particular dispute. But I remember irate ranchers who believed that people were mucking around with their headgates and the like. And many locals were furious that the court case was resolved with monetary compensation. To them, that kind of thing was a shooting offense, and a lot of them figured that if the courts weren’t willing to hang someone, Denver could always take more than its share of water, since the city could definitely afford to pay fines and penalties.
“And what if a drought lasted for years?” they complained. In that case, the ranchers would lose everything. Yet those damned Denverites wouldn’t have to put their cherished herds up for sale, (herds that they had taken years to carefully establish), or miss their favorite old cottonwood, or pond, or migrating geese. No, Denver’s residents would just keep planting their fancy bluegrass….
Of course, even without water appropriation problems, drought can compel herd reductions and cause substantial losses.
And clearly our courts can’t act on mere allegations or fears, which is all that I’m reporting here.
Thus, I’m not trying to establish who was right or wrong in this instance; I’m merely trying to show that there were serious issues involved, and ranchers in Grand County were worried and angry.
Therefore the absolute ignorance of a news anchor at that point has stuck with me ever since. After a short (and rare) water story on the evening news about “settlements” made by the Denver Water Board, that anchor turned to his co-host and said that he hadn’t known that Denver got water from the western slope. Then he went on to wax poetic about how wonderful it was that Denver and the Western Slope could help each other that way. Not only was Denver there for the Western Slope, but the Western Slope could also do something for Denver. The anchor actually smiled and shook his head in wonder at that miracle of symbiosis.
YEAH, and maybe somebody should have stolen his car so that we could all marvel about how wonderful it was that Denverites could help each other that way.
That water moron’s “news” announcement was ludicrous. But there was no hue or outcry, and if anyone complained to the station, the complaint never amounted to much.
That program is merely something I’ve remembered, because it proved that incredible ignorance about Colorado water issues was tolerated in those who should have known better (or that news anchor would have been in serious hot water).
Today, after years of “Smart-growth” sessions and drought, city dwellers seem to be a little more aware of water issues. Yet I doubt that most Coloradans are proficient enough to determine many of the things that they, as voters, are asked to decide.
And so I planned to write, once again, about why water issues are important — even if they are, as a friend recently said, “so damned arcane.”
But that’s not what I’m going to do here, after all. Because in recent months, our national political discourse has convinced me that maybe this isn’t a great time for Coloradans to start discussing water issues.
During this 2004 campaign, what generally passes as news, isn’t news at all; it’s pure gossip. Television and radio talk show hosts toss out hype, insults, and accusations, and the newspapers pick them up and make them issues.
So just how important is it to determine which Presidential candidate was more adolescent in his twenties?
And what’s going to happen to us if that old maxim is true: What if democracy actually does require an informed electorate?
In that case, Iraq just may have a real democracy before us.
Of course, I suspect that all of my friends and acquaintances are presuming that I don’t mean them. And yet I do mean you. And me. I figure we’re all misinformed, since we live in a country where even the “intelligence” community which serves our President appears to be poorly informed.
And when it comes to water?
WELL, THAT’S A LARGE PART of why I’m not encouraging people to try to broach this subject for awhile. Water is one of the harder things to stay informed about, because most journalists avoid covering it entirely, and even the water experts are problematical.
Yes, reporters are falling down on the job. But perhaps the number one reason is because they rely too heavily on friendly “water experts.”
And yet there’s no such thing as a generic “water expert” who can tell them everything. There are water engineers, and managers, and planners, and lawyers. But the experts on ditches aren’t always experts on law, and the experts on law aren’t necessarily experts on engineering, and the experts on the Animas-La Plata project don’t necessarily know much about Fry-Ark. So perhaps the first thing any reporter should learn is that he has to find the right “experts.”
One of the most frustrating things about reading the Mountain Mail, a fairly informative paper in regard to most local issues, is that the editors and reporters tend to ask the manager of the Upper Arkansas Water Conservancy District about Salida’s water supply, future plans, and usage.
As head honcho for the local water conservancy district, Terry Scanga knows all about water supplies, water law, water banking, and getting a well (since that’s more or less his job). So I understand why reporters ask him for his input on city water. But Scanga doesn’t work or plan for Salida.
Although the City of Salida is in the conservancy district, the city and the district offer totally different services and have very different obligations. Thus, I was astounded in 2002 when our local newspaper repeatedly based stories and editorials about Salida water on Scanga’s perspective, instead of interviewing the people in charge of our municipal supplies.
It doesn’t take an enormous amount of water experience to see the hazard here. If you wanted to do a story on rate changes at Xcel Energy, you wouldn’t base most of it on interviews with an Atmos representative.
And for that very reason, even though Scanga is a perfectly acceptable source for any water story, he shouldn’t be the primary source for a story about another entity’s water system.
Yet even though well-done, understandable water stories are rarer than Jackalopes, the media aren’t wholly to blame. In fact, I can’t help but sympathize with reporters who try to cover water stories — because any mistakes they make are generously encouraged by the powers that be.
WHEN A WRITER FINDS someone helpful and understandable who’s willing to talk, it’s only natural for him to call that expert again and again, because even though many water experts serve in public capacities, or are anxious to get public approval for their proposed projects (such as AWDI or Union Park or Front Range municipal purchases), the experts are not always forthright when they talk to the press.
And some of them … lie.
Well, actually, a friend I ran into at George’s water conference, has spent years working in local government, and he assures me that in his experience the experts seldom actually lie, they just…. Well, they just, kind of….
As for what they just kind of do, I have lots of thoughts on that: Some of them try to confuse you with double-talk. Some present only the facts that support their proposal. Some keep changing the subject. Some exaggerate a little, or a lot…. And some just assume that you’re too stupid to know the difference, and say something wholly absurd.
My friend, however, was trying to be diplomatic, so I finished his thought. “Some of them ‘just, kind of’ lie?” I suggested.
And he laughed and said, “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way.”
And the truth is: neither would I — most of the time.
On a few rare occasions, after having consulted several experts, books, and websites (because I couldn’t make any sense whatsoever out of a bit of water-related testimony), I’ve finally realized that a water expert has flat-out misrepresented the facts.
But most of the time, misrepresentation is entirely unnecessary. Water experts are far more likely to overwhelm the rabble with unnecessary, excessive techno-buzz:
“Due to the loss to invasive phreatophytes, in addition to the evapotranspiration rate, and considering the unpredictable influence of unstandard, adverse climatic cycles, accompanied by the legal ramifications of the beneficial use doctrine, and the controlling factor of the Colorado Compact, in regard to adjudications successive to 1929, and the current rate of depletion of the aquifer, presuming you disregard calls before 1922, and recognize the exclusion of trans-basin diversionary tactics, and apply HB 1334, and assume an intolerance for out-of-priority diversion, but enact substitute supply plans as covered in….”
The curious thing, however, is not that the experts embrace this language. It’s that whenever there’s a dispute over water, everybody embraces this language, including those reporters whose job it is to translate it back into English.
Soooo is it translatable?
Well, sure.
IN FACT, WHEN A Front Range city proposes to build a dam, it’s startling how fast the rabble can pick up and understand these terms. This stuff is not quantum mechanics. Actually, most of this language is just legalese for how Colorado’s cowboys and villagers divvied up their water so they could quit shooting each other over it. And some of this techno-speak is merely derived from inserting the scientific terms for fairly simple concepts.
Transpiration, for example, is in any dictionary, and should, in my view, be defined in any water story, as should prior appropriations, beneficial use, trans-basin diversion….
But hey, this isn’t a water story. In fact, it was just going to be another essay about how reporters and voting citizens need to pay more attention to water issues because that’s where stuff really happens. But recent events have made me reconsider that advice.
I haven’t changed my mind about how important water issues are. On the contrary, most Coloradans seem concerned about drought, sprawl, green space, and loss of wildlife habitat, and I believe water development will play a key role in dealing with those issues.
As the year 2000 approached, former Governor Romer encouraged Colorado citizens to flock to visioning conferences and Smart-Growth seminars, but I always thought that the real decisions were being made in fairly empty rooms by planning and zoning boards, city councils, water courts, county commissioners, and water conservancy districts — while we were all busy developing collaborative committees and discussing gateways.
HOW LAND AND WATER are parceled out determines our future. In fact, if you feel that lots of Colorado cities are really messed up (eg. they sprawl like Colorado Springs; or don’t provide enough economic opportunity like many of the towns in our region; or lack any semblance of affordable housing for their service-oriented working class, like Vail or Aspen), that may be because planning conferences generally happen decades after the real plan is enacted.
One of the reasons that Salida has a quaint downtown is because the streets are too narrow for heavy traffic. Thus, the primary plan for today’s historic tourist attraction were determined way back in the 1880s, when Salida was first planned and constructed.
And in just that way, Salida’s future is currently being decided when new subdivisions are platted; and the city determines new tap fees and regulations; or establishes new building codes and zoning regulations; or authorizes exceptions. Our future is also decided by county planning and zoning; and by how our local water conservancy district regulates and prices augmentation; and by how the state and federal courts decide water cases. Those things determine what people can and will build in our region.
For example, we recently ran a story about conflicts between the municipal water supplier for Westcliffe and the Upper Arkansas Water Conservancy District. Upper Ark wanted to allow people living within three miles of Westcliffe to purchase well augmentations, but the municipal water supplier cried foul.
As many saw it, this was an argument about who would supply the water, but it is also an argument about how Custer County will develop. Towns have water and sewer systems and small lots and often require sidewalks and the like. Whereas ranchettes have large lots and generally allow farm animals.
Eventually, of course, as cities grow they swallow ranchettes and establish ordinances about noisy and/or unsanitary animals. So either way, a rural community can turn into a big city. But towns which allow farms and ranchettes on their edges are more likely to have room for big box stores and parking lots within their residential areas.
And in those towns, the water and sewer systems generally develop in a more chaotic way, which may actually make them more adaptable to industrial areas within their boundaries.
Thus, there’s a pretty high likelihood that communities that allow wells and homes with acreage right next to — or in — the city limits will develop like Pagosa Springs, spreading along major roads or highways (because each small subdivision or property owner will have to find his own water , and build his own roads or driveway). And presuming those towns prosper, they’ll end up looking more like Colorado Springs or Pagosa Springs than like Boulder or Aspen.
So once again, I was going to try to convince people that if they really wanted to shape the future of their communities, they should pay more attention to things like planning and zoning and water meetings.
THEN I WAS GOING to go on to tell everyone that they shouldn’t be intimidated by unfamiliar water terms. People who are new to Colorado water law often get hung up on things like acre feet, cusecs, and gallons. But those are merely measurements. And headgates and the like, are merely instruments to control and measure water.
Thus, if you go to water meetings, and read about water issues, and attend water workshops and conferences, you’ll eventually get to where you understand the issues well enough to make moderately informed decisions.
But the 2004 campaigns have convinced me that a short period of apathy may be the best course regarding water issues.
For whatever reason, national politics have gotten painfully partisan and polarized. The issues have been reduced to sound bites, and simplistic harangues about good and bad, right and wrong, and war and peace have overwhelmed more meaningful conversation. Right now, national political discussions threaten to tear America in two, and therefore it hardly seems like a good time to encourage a renewed interest in water.
WATER ISSUES are already beleaguered by too much blame, and too few options. In some circles, citizens are already angry about converting ag water to municipal use. Yet ag water keeps getting developed.
Why? Well, certainly not because anyone is stealing it. It’s happening because family farms and ranches are failing in Colorado due to national trends, drought, suburban development, agri-biz, escalating land prices, and changes in our eating habits. Thus many farmers and ranchers are agreeable to selling.
Furthermore, agriculture consumes about 85% of Colorado’s water, and growing cities are thirsty. So slowly and surely, we’ve been converting ag water into municipal water, because it’s available. And that trend will continue.
But cities are trying to mitigate the effects by arranging temporary agreements for drought years only, so that farmers can stay in business. And farmers are looking into more water-efficient crops and better irrigation systems. And consumers are starting to conserve (in many cases so much so that their water bills are going up). But despite attempts to work things out, there are still plenty of conflicts regarding water issues.
And there are not many great solutions on the table. On the contrary, the only solution offered by many who want to “save” ag water is to divide ranches into mini-farms, mini-ranchettes, subdivisions, and apartment houses, and thus spread housing into every crevice of our valleys — which is probably even worse for Colorado’s future (and wildlife) than the Front Range megalopolis.
Personally, I hate sprawl, so I hate that plan. But I don’t see many good alternatives. By living in more densely populated, compact communities, people can save scenic vistas and spare wildlife habitat. But sprawling communities like Colorado Springs and Pueblo West tend to have more affordable housing and more employment opportunities than their less sprawling brethren. So neither model is ideal.
Central Colorado’s communities have gorgeous scenery, but when it comes to affordable housing, good jobs, good benefits, business opportunities, dynamic markets, and excellent schools, they fall short. And this is not merely a matter of passing a bond issue, or deregulating, or encouraging cottage industries — as so many politicians contend.
Our problems are due to immutable transitions: The freight trains run elsewhere, now. Our mines are gone. Our land and water are too expensive to sustain profitable farms and ranches. Tourism has served some of our communities well, but it tends to be seasonal. Most new jobs in our region are in the lower paying service sector.
SUCH PROBLEMS aren’t anyone’s fault. In fact, they’re common and persistent throughout rural America, and thus workable solutions will doubtlessly require considerable creativity and cooperation.
Yet there’s a powerful tendency toward factionalism and finger-pointing in America today.
At this point, we are all familiar with the catchy phrases that describe what we want: a sustainable economy; affordable housing; open space; economic diversity; light industry….
But none of these things are likely to materialize just because we’ve dreamed them up. Those who want to make a real difference, however, might do well to start studying water issues.
But there’s no hurry in jumping on this bandwagon — because if there’s one sure thing that it doesn’t take a water expert to predict, it’s that Central Colorado’s problems with water and economics are going to be around for many years to come.
