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Fish out of water on the Colorado River

By
Heather Sackett, Aspen Journalism
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The Colorado River flows through Las Colonias Park in Grand Junction on April 22, 2026. The river reached an extremely low level due to heavy diversion upstream and record low snowpack.
(Luke Runyon/The Water Desk)

With drought and high temperatures putting unprecedented pressure on water users throughout Colorado, from cities to agriculture, there’s one segment that can be affected first — and maybe worst — when it comes to a lack of water: rivers themselves and the ecosystems that depend on them. 

As cities enact water restrictions and farmers and ranchers prepare for the worst, impacts of the water shortage are readily apparent in a chronically dry stretch of the Colorado River between Palisade and the confluence of the Gunnison River that is critical habitat for endangered fish, known as the 15-mile reach. 

The Upper Colorado River Endangered Fish Recovery Program works to return water to this stretch of river in the Grand Valley, but because of this year’s historically dry conditions, the program could have only 16,000 acre-feet, half its typical amount of water for fish. 

Beyond that guaranteed amount, the program mostly uses water-sharing agreements that can secure additional acre-feet to boost flows — but only when other users don’t need the water and can voluntarily loan it. This year finds nearly everyone who depends on the Colorado River and its tributaries in dire straits.

There won’t be any surplus water for fish in the Historic Users Pool, which is stored in Green Mountain Reservoir and is the largest source of water to potentially augment fish flows. A pool of water in Ruedi Reservoir that is available in four out of five years isn’t there, and the program could get only about 340 acre-feet from a pool in Wolford Reservoir upstream of Kremmling that typically has up to 6,000 acre-feet.

“It is really clear to me that we do not have enough tools in our toolbox to be able to manage for conditions like we have this year in the 15-mile reach,” said Julie Stahli, recovery program director. “We are so far outside the bounds of what we have ever seen before, that it’s really just hard to be able to make any good decisions.”

Stahli said she anticipates the program can contribute about 75 cubic feet per second through mid-July, at which point they will drop it down to 50 cfs, a bare-bones amount that is just enough to keep the riverbed wet. 

“That is what we are anticipating being able to have for the entirety of the season in the 15-mile reach,” she said.

As flows plummet, fish could become stranded in pools that are disconnected from the rest of the river, and program managers say they will try to prevent fish from using that stretch of river during times when flows are predicted to be at their lowest. Crews could use netting to keep fish out of the reach or close the flow of water that returns fish to the river after they accidentally enter an irrigation canal, which would keep them in the stretch of river above the diversion that has more water.

“Our main goal at this point is just to keep fish out of that reach,” Stahli said. “There is not a whole lot of attractive habitat in there right now for fish. Flows dropped so early in the season. We’re already seeing some pretty dire conditions in April.”

For several days in April, flows fell to just over 50 cfs, among the lowest levels in recorded history and far below the recovery program’s target flow for April in a dry year of 1,240 cfs. According to Stahli, the river’s flow at that low point could be solely attributed to recovery-program water that it had released from upstream reservoirs.

The goal of the recovery program when it was created in 1988 was to protect the humpback chub, razorback sucker, bonytail and Colorado pikeminnow, while also allowing the seemingly opposing goal of developing more water. An aim of the program was to allow farms and cities to continue using water and even expand their use without violating the Endangered Species Act.

Palisade High School students released razorback suckers and bonytails they helped raise into the Colorado River on Friday, May 1. The two species live only in the Colorado River Basin and are endangered. (Heather Sackett/Aspen Journalism)

And the program has had some success, with one of the four species — the humpback chub — being downlisted from endangered to threatened in 2021. (The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has also proposed downlisting the razorback sucker.) These fish evolved over millions of years and are only found in the Colorado River basin. In today’s highly engineered and managed river ecosystem, they live mostly in just a few key locations in the Upper Basin, including the 15-mile reach, and in parts of the Yampa and Green rivers. Grand Junction’s minor league baseball team has adopted the charismatic fish as its team name and mascot; last year it was the humpback chubs, and now it’s the razorback suckers.

But the program has had trouble meeting target minimum flows in the 15-mile reach, even though upstream water development has not kept pace the way it was expected to. A main culprit is climate change, which has robbed the river of about 20% of its flows during the 21st  century.

“We just don’t have the tools as a society to be able to handle what’s happening right now in any cohesive way,” Stahli said. “This isn’t an endangered fish problem; this is an everyone problem.”

Why is the river dry?

The reach is just downstream of large Grand Valley agricultural diversions, which are used to grow crops such as corn, alfalfa and the famous Palisade peaches, and which can take a combined 1,950 cfs from the river. At certain times of year, there can be more water in the Grand Valley’s canals than there is in the nearby Colorado River. Collectively, they are the biggest agricultural diversion from the Colorado River on the Western Slope.

“There has been so much diversion and damming of the river farther upstream,” said Bart Miller, healthy rivers director at environmental group Western Resource Advocates. “There are a lot of uses right there, and you’re seeing the impacts of all the Front Range diversions. [The 15-mile reach] is a pinch point in the system based on all the water development we’ve done.”

Side channels on the Colorado River ran dry early during spring runoff on April 22, 2026. Cobble bars and muddy banks emerged as the river receded near Dos Rios Park in Grand Junction.
(Luke Runyon/The Water Desk)

Water rights for the environment and recreation were latecomers to the legal system. It wasn’t until the 1970s — nearly 100 years after the most-senior agricultural rights on the Western Slope were established — that Colorado began protecting the value of water in streams with its instream flow program. Under Colorado’s system of water law, those who use water by taking it out of the river — including farmers, cities and industry — usually have the oldest rights, giving them first use of the resource. There’s nothing illegal about drying up a river. 

“It’s like you’re running in a race and it’s four laps around the track,” Miller said. “The folks with the instream, recreational, environmental values are there at the starting line, but they’re held back for the first two or three laps. Everyone else is already running. And that’s why the environment often ends up in a really bad place.”

‘April hole’?

It’s not totally unheard of to have a small window of diminished streamflows in April. In a phenomenon known as the “April hole,” irrigation demands in the Grand Valley ramp up, while the needed water remains frozen solid as high-country snowpack. This problem remedies itself within a couple weeks as the snow begins melting. But this year, little snowpack remained by April and water managers think spring runoff at Cameo, where the big Grand Valley diversions are located, peaked during the March heatwave.

Kate Ryan is executive director of the Colorado Water Trust, which works to put water back into streams through temporary water sharing agreements with agricultural, municipal and industrial water users. Although the Water Trust is still finalizing contracts for this year, Ryan said she expects the Water Trust to add about 4,700 acre-feet of water to the 15-mile reach by leasing water from Ruedi Reservoir owned by the town of Palisade, and oil-and-gas company QB Energy. 

In past years, water from this project has been released between the end of July and beginning of October. But that timing may change if the recovery program is trying to keep fish out of the reach.

“We will make sure that we deliver water at a point that complements the work of the recovery program,” Ryan said. 

The Water Trust has also used the Colorado River Water Conservation District’s water marketing program — where acre-feet are available for purchase — to restore water to streams. But the River District board at its April meeting voted to freeze all new contracts, which are usually doled out first come, first served, while staff figures out the best use of the limited water supply. 

Palisade High School students released two species of endangered fish into the Colorado River on Friday, May 1. Target flows for these fish in the 15-mile reach are often not met.
(Heather Sackett/Aspen Journalism)

The move was part of a series of drought mitigation actions aimed at easing shortages for water users. The board last month also approved a system for prioritizing water sectors, with keeping water in rivers at the bottom of the list: municipal and domestic water needs over agricultural and industrial needs; and agricultural and industrial needs over in-channel uses such as those that benefit the environment, endangered fish and recreation.

The Water Trust this week sent a letter to some water managers recognizing the historic drought and acknowledging that many of its temporary water sharing agreements, which pay water rights holders to leave water in streams, may not operate this year because their agricultural partners may not have enough water for their own use. Projects are voluntary and happen only in years when participants have enough water to share and it can benefit a stream. 

But the letter also said there may be others who are interested in using their water rights to help prop up a stream this year.

“There is just so much uncertainty right now that we are trying to be as flexible and responsive as possible,” Ryan said.

Recovery-program officials said this year they will double down on other actions that benefit endangered fish, including removing nonnative predator species such as smallmouth bass and stocking the river with hatchery-raised fish. On Friday, students at Palisade High School released 1,500 young razorback suckers and bonytails that they helped raise into the Colorado River at Riverbend Park in Palisade. 

Recovery-program staff said managing the 15-mile reach this year is about preventing the worst impacts and seeing what lessons can be learned from one of the driest years on record.

“It is just new terrain,” said David Graf, instream flow coordinator for the recovery program. “I think we are just flying by the seat of our pants in a lot of ways trying to do triage management as opposed to really adapt.”

For now, one of the few ways to add water back to a depleted river remains borrowing it from other, more senior users. 

“I think until our water suppliers and state government hear from people that the environment really is a priority, not just the recovery program and need to support endangered species, but also for communities and local economies across the board, it’s going to stay that way,” Ryan said.

Aspen Journalism is a nonprofit, investigative news organization covering water, environment, social justice and more. Visit aspenjournalism.org.

Winter’s alarmingly low snowpack offers a glimpse of the changing rhythm of water in the western US

By
The Conversation US
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Low snowpack in the San Juan Mountains in southwest Colorado on March 14, 2026. Photo by Mitch Tobin/The Water Desk.

By Imtiaz Rangwala, University of Colorado Boulder

Winter is more than just a season in the western U.S. – it is a savings account to get farms and homes through the long, dry summer ahead. As the snowpack that accumulates in the mountains through winter slowly melts in late spring and summer, it feeds into rivers and reservoirs that keep communities and ecosystems functioning.

The April 1 snowpack measurement has long been the single most important number in western water management, considered a strong proxy for how much water the mountains are holding in reserve.

But in 2026, that savings account has been woefully deficient.

Across the western United States, temperatures from November through February were among the warmest on record, with many areas 5 to 10 degrees Fahrenheit (2.8 to 5.5 degrees Celsius) above the 20th-century average. March continued to break heat records, leaving California’s snowpack at just 18% of normal on April 1. At lower elevations, the higher temperatures meant a significant part of the winter’s precipitation fell as rain rather than snow. In some places, snowfall accumulated but melted quickly during warm periods.

A chart shows an unusually low amount of area in the West with snow cover during winter 2026.
The total area of the western U.S. with snow cover was exceptionally low compared with the rest of the 21st century. National Snow and Ice Data Center

As a result, even regions that received near- or above-normal precipitation for the season failed to build substantial snowpack. In the northern Rockies and the mountains of the Pacific Northwest, any above-average snow accumulation was largely confined to the highest elevations, while middle and lower elevations had relatively little snowpack.

This situation is a hallmark of warming winters. As global temperatures rise, the freezing line where precipitation changes from rain to snow moves up the mountains, shrinking the area capable of sustaining a seasonal snowpack.

A map shows most of the stations across the western mountains were below 50% of average. The best conditions were in the northern Rockies and Pacific Northwest, and most of those were still below average.
At the vast majority of the U.S. Natural Resources Conservation Service’s snow measurement stations across the West, the snowpack’s snow-water equivalent on March 30, 2026, was less than 50% of the 1991-2020 median. Natural Resources Conservation Service
A map shows wide temperature anomalies in the western U.S. compared with the 20th-century average.
Temperatures were well above the 20th-century average across the western U.S. in winter 2025-26. National Centers for Environmental Information

The exceptionally warm winter of 2025–26 across much of the western U.S. delivered a powerful preview of what the regional water cycle in a warmer climate may increasingly look like: less snow and a fundamental reshaping of the hydrograph – the chart of how much water flows through streams across the year.

A flattening hydrologic pulse

The consequences of this shift for water supplies are already visible in streamflows.

In multiple river basins in the West, streamflows were above average in winter and early spring, and some locations were approaching record-high levels. Historically, that water would have remained frozen in the snowpack until late spring. Instead, precipitation arriving as rain – along with intermittent midwinter melting events – increased the runoff.

Scientists who study natural water flows, as I do, pay attention to the hydrographs of streamflows in river basins to see when the water flow in mountain streams is strongest and how long that flow is likely to continue into summer.

A chart shows a typical arc of increasing water flows as snow melt in 2025, compared with several peaks of snowmelt and rainfall during 2026.
This hydrograph showing two years of water flows in the St. Mary River near Babb, Mont., reflects the difference between a typical late-spring peak, as 2025 saw, and several midwinter peaks from warm temperatures and rain, as 2026 is seeing. U.S. Geological Survey

In recent years, rising temperatures have led to a redistribution of streamflows throughout the winter and early spring in ways that are fundamentally reshaping the hydrographs of snowmelt-dominated rivers. Rather than a single dominant peak during late spring or early summer, smaller peaks emerge in winter and early spring. At the same time, the traditional snowmelt pulse, relied on to fill reservoirs in late spring, weakens.

In effect, the hydrograph is flattening. The winter of 2025–26 illustrates this phenomenon: Higher early-season streamflows suggest the West will see less runoff later in the year when communities, farms and wildlife need it.

The Colorado River: A system on the edge

Nowhere does the convergence of record warmth, depleted snowpack and altered hydrology carry higher stakes than in the Colorado River Basin. More than 40 million people in seven states plus Mexico and 5.5 million acres of farmland depend on the river’s water, but the river’s flow is no longer meeting demand.

The April-through-July 2026 runoff into Lake Powell – the reservoir behind Glen Canyon Dam and the primary index of the Upper Colorado River Basin’s annual water budget – is currently forecast to rank among the lowest in recent decades. It has been tracking close to the grim years of 2002 and 2021, considered benchmarks of western drought.

Unless spring brings substantial late-season snowfall to the high mountains, 2026 could join those years as a marker of how thin the margin between water supply and demand has become in a river system already under sustained stress from two decades of drought and water overuse.

The low reservoir levels in the basin in 2026 and the low snowpack are adding fears of water shortages just as the seven states that rely on the Colorado River are struggling to reach a new water use agreement.

The changing rhythm of water in the West

The winter of 2025–26 highlights two emerging realities.

First, temperature is increasingly dominating precipitation in determining western water supplies. Even above-normal precipitation cannot compensate for persistent warmth when it falls as rain rather than snow and accelerates snowmelt in the mountains.

Second, the nature of the West’s streamflows is shifting in ways that complicate water management.

Rain-on-snow events can produce flooding in winter, as the Seattle area saw in late December 2025. A low snowpack also means less runoff in summer, which can exacerbate water shortages and raise the wildfire risk as landscapes dry out. Even if a year has normal precipitation, if it falls as rain or there is earlier snowmelt, then evaporation through summer, in a warmer climate, will leave less water in the system.

Snowpack declines, earlier runoff, elevated winter flows and flattened hydrographs are all consistent with long-standing projections for the western United States as global temperatures rise.

What makes the winter of 2025-26 notable is how clearly these signals appeared, even in a year without widespread precipitation deficits.

This shift highlights the need for adaptive reservoir operations – the ability to adjust water storage and release decisions in real time to capture earlier runoff and preserve water for longer dry seasons, while still maintaining space in reservoirs for flood control during wetter winters. For communities across the West, it also reinforces the growing reality that the familiar seasonal rhythm of mountain water is changing.

This article, originally published April 1, 2026, has been updated with California’s April 1 measurements.

Imtiaz Rangwala is Senior Research Scientist in Climate, Cooperative Institute for Research in Environmental Sciences, University of Colorado Boulder

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Glen Canyon Dam faces its existential moment

By
Brett Walton, Circle of Blue
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Glen Canyon Dam, which holds back the waters of Lake Powell, has emerged as a significant water supply chokepoint in the Colorado River basin. (Brett Walton/Circle of Blue)

PAGE, Ariz. – In the span of U.S. history certain years are turning points, milestones in the nation’s story. 1776. 1865. 1929. 1968. Circumstance and consequence conspire to make it so.

For the Colorado River and those who rely on it, 2026 is on the verge of similar prominence. Circumstances in the basin today are that urgent.

A slow-developing water supply calamity, decades in the making, has boiled over, like a cold war turning hot. Extreme heat in March – triple-digit temperatures never witnessed that early in the year – obliterated a meager snowpack. The basin’s big reservoirs, the supposed buffers against short-term drought, were already uncomfortably low after a quarter-century of declining river flows. They will drop even lower. The amount of water flowing this summer into Lake Powell, the nation’s second-largest reservoir, will be one of the smallest ever measured, barely a trickle.

“This is unprecedented, but it’s not unpredicted,” said Eric Balken, executive director of the Glen Canyon Institute. “I like to say that this is the most predicted disaster of all time.”

Lake Powell is formed by Glen Canyon Dam, a striking 710-ft tall concrete arch braced against ruddy sandstone walls. It plugs the Colorado just after the river enters Arizona. Meant to ensure water deliveries to the lower basin states of Arizona, California, and Nevada, Glen Canyon Dam was finished in 1963 to complement the Colorado River’s audacious engineering that distributes water through mountains and uphill to the largest cities in the Southwest and to the region’s most productive farmland. When full, Lake Powell holds enough water to flood the entire state of Virginia to the depth of one foot.

Climate change and water demand that still exceeds supply have flipped the engineering script. Lake Powell is less than 25% full today. Glen Canyon Dam, instead of being a guarantor of water, is now the most significant water chokepoint in the basin. The hard-won asset has become a glaring liability.

Glen Canyon Dam’s powerhouse sits at the base of the 710-foot-tall structure. Hydroelectric generation has dropped in tandem with the falling water levels in Lake Powell. (Brett Walton/Circle of Blue)

The reversal of fortune is because of how Glen Canyon Dam was designed. The dam was never meant to be operated at the extremely low water levels that Lake Powell is rapidly approaching. Doing so for extended periods of time could damage the pipes that move water through the dam, according to the Bureau of Reclamation, the federal agency that manages the structure.

Reclamation is now studying its options for retrofitting Glen Canyon Dam to accommodate a lower Lake Powell. It expects to release those findings later this year or in early 2027. As any home remodeler knows, renovating an aging structure is neither quick nor cheap, especially when failure could have disastrous consequences.

In the short term, Reclamation is relying on operational band-aids for Glen Canyon Dam and Lake Powell. With the consent of the seven states in the basin – Arizona, California, Colorado, Nevada, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming – the agency took unprecedented action this month to prop up the reservoir. Releasing more water from upstream reservoirs and holding back more in Powell will delay Glen Canyon’s infrastructure reckoning. But that day will soon come, and Reclamation’s answer to the dam’s engineering problems will have far-reaching implications – not only for the reliability of the basin’s water supply, but also for its power customers, ecology, and recreation economy.

An assessment deferred

Dams are difficult to manage under any circumstance. Management is even more troublesome when operators must balance multiple, conflicting objectives. In Glen Canyon’s case those objectives are water supply, flood control, hydropower generation, and releasing water to protect the ecology downstream in the Grand Canyon – namely, beach-building and threatened native fish like the humpback chub. This is in addition to ensuring the safe operation of the dam itself.

How to operate Glen Canyon Dam and Hoover Dam, its larger downstream sibling, is what the seven basin states and Reclamation are attempting to figure out right now. The current agreement covers operations through 2026. Reclamation published a draft environmental impact statement, or EIS, in January that would impose severe cuts on water users in the lower basin, particularly Arizona, in part to protect Glen Canyon Dam’s fragile infrastructure.

For that reason, water users in the lower basin and elsewhere support an engineering fix for Glen Canyon Dam. Many were incredulous that Reclamation did not include an assessment of dam modifications in its draft environmental analysis.

“This EIS could have been a great avenue to look at real changes at Glen Canyon Dam that could solve the water delivery problem and some of the ecological problems, too,” Balken said.

The mineral “bath tub ring” above Lake Powell shows where its water level has been. (Brett Walton/Circle of Blue)

Patrick Dent is the assistant general manager for water policy at the Central Arizona Project (CAP), which delivers Colorado River water to the densely populated center of the state. He said that CAP does not favor any particular fix – only one that provides dam managers with more flexibility.

“Our primary interest is that they could release water at a lower lake level,” Dent said.

The Gila River Indian Community, which receives Colorado River water through CAP, told Reclamation that the agency has a duty to safeguard the tribe’s water rights, which are at risk if the dam cannot release enough water. “The United States must take action to fix Glen Canyon Dam,” Gov. Stephen Roe Lewis wrote in a March 2026 letter.

The Colorado Water Conservation Board, which represents that state’s water interests, said it supports a reevaluation of Glen Canyon Dam, but “in a separate action” from the EIS.

Becki Bryant, a Reclamation spokesperson, said the agency will release an appraisal study assessing three dam modification alternatives at the end of this year or in early 2027. Any action beyond the study, she said, requires congressional authorization and funding.

‘Antiquated plumbing’

The tool for managing the dam’s multiple objectives, which are a legislative requirement as well as a practical necessity, is the water held in Lake Powell, said David Wegner, a scientist who has worked on Glen Canyon policy for more than four decades. But even water has limits when the engineering is inadequate. “Sadly, these dams were not built for multiple objectives,” Wegner said. And Glen Canyon was certainly not built for extremely low water, he added.

The problem with Glen Canyon is what a coalition of environmental groups calls the dam’s “antiquated plumbing.” The groups – Glen Canyon Institute, Great Basin Water Network, and Utah Rivers Council – published a report in August 2022 that outlined these engineering deficiencies.

Water can exit Glen Canyon in only three ways. One is the spillways, a pressure-release valve for flooding, which are located at elevation 3,648 feet, near the top of the dam. They are irrelevant today. Lake Powell rests 122 feet below them.

The main exit point is through the eight penstocks, the 15-foot diameter tubes that move water through the turbines to generate hydroelectricity. The penstocks are incapacitated when Powell drops below 3,490 feet. (The lake today is 36 feet higher than that level.) If the lake falls below what is known as minimum power pool, hydropower generation also ceases.

If that happens, water must be released through four 8-foot diameter pipes called the river outlet works. Smaller than the penstocks, the river outlet works are located at elevation 3,370. Below that elevation water cannot be released from Powell, a status known ominously as “dead pool.” (Functionally, the river outlet works may be useless at elevation 3,394, Reclamation says.)

As of late April 2026, Lake Powell was less than 25 percent full and projected to drop to a record low in the next 12 months. (Brett Walton/Circle of Blue)

The environmental groups identified two limitations with the river outlet works. One is that they were not designed to be operated full-time. They are a role player, not the star. The other is that their smaller size means less water can pass through them. That’s a problem because the upper basin states of Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming are required to send a set amount of water downstream to the lower basin, according to the 1922 Colorado River Compact that divided the river.

The flow restrictions imposed by the river outlet works, if they had to be used full time, means that the upper basin could violate the compact, which could mean water cutbacks imposed by the lower basin.

“It’s just so counterintuitive that the tool that was designed to meet this delivery obligation” – the construction of Glen Canyon Dam – “is now going to be the roadblock that may prevent the delivery obligation from being met,” said Balken of the Glen Canyon Institute.

The engineering problems are not a new discovery. Wegner, who was with the Bureau of Reclamation at the time as its Grand Canyon environmental studies manager, helped lead a 1987 National Academies report on Glen Canyon. The report recommended that the Interior Department consider the “installation and operation of multiple outlet structures” at Glen Canyon, which would give dam managers more flexibility with water releases.

Glen Canyon’s structural problems were substantiated in 2023, when Reclamation used the river outlet works during an experimental “high-flow” release of water to flush sediment downstream and rebuild eroding Grand Canyon beaches.

The high-volume release caused pitting, or cavitation, within the river outlet works, a risk that was heightened due to the physics of water when Lake Powell is low. Reclamation coated the pipes with epoxy as a temporary fix to prevent more damage, a process that took several months. The agency has since used two small-scale physical models at its Technical Service Center in Denver to test dam operations at low water levels and the effect on infrastructure. Reclamation acknowledged the limitations of the river outlet works in a technical memo published in March 2024 by Richard Lafond, director of the agency’s Technical Service Center. The memo’s conclusions were endorsed by the top decision-makers in Reclamation’s Upper Colorado River Office.

“Long term operation of the river outlet works will result in accelerating regular operation and maintenance tasks,” LaFond wrote. Reclamation should “not rely on the river outlet works as the sole means for releasing water from Glen Canyon Dam.”

Wegner put it in starker terms. If the river outlet works had to be relied upon and the pipes began to erode again, then Reclamation could potentially lose control of water flows.

“Potentially that could fail,” Wegner said, meaning an inability to control water releases through the dam if the pipes are structurally compromised. “And if that fails, now you have a catastrophe on your hand and you have limited options to manage that catastrophe.”

In other words, there would be no way to release water downstream into the Grand Canyon and into the lower basin.

Neither quick nor easy

What fixes are possible? Reclamation received $2 million from Congress in the fiscal year 2022 budget for an appraisal study. Reclamation outlined three engineering possibilities in a 2023 presentation, most of which centered on preserving hydropower generation as Lake Powell declines.

One possibility is a new, lower intake that uses the existing power generation turbines. An intake located deeper in the reservoir would allow Glen Canyon to pass water in what is currently dead pool. But it would entail “increased risk from penetration through the dam.”

The second would connect new power generation equipment to the river outlet works.

The third option is tunneling through the canyon wall and installing a new underground power station. This would also provide more flexibility for water releases.

Reclamation also included three operational or policy changes for power production, including investing in wind and solar to offset hydropower declines.

Other ideas that seemed kooky and fringe just a few years ago – draining Lake Powell and filling Lake Mead first; changing the basin’s water accounting system – are now being discussed throughout the basin with more seriousness and candor.

Glen Canyon Dam, completed in 1963, was not designed to be operated at extremely low water levels that Lake Powell is now approaching. (Brett Walton/Circle of Blue)

Beyond that presentation, Reclamation has not said much publicly about dam modification. The agency declined an interview request to discuss Glen Canyon Dam’s engineering problems.

Whatever direction Reclamation chooses – an option outlined above or something new – the process will not be quick or easy. Any change to Glen Canyon must go through an environmental analysis and public comment period. Congress will have to authorize actions and appropriate the funds. Construction alone will take years.

Wegner, who was the staff director for the House Natural Resources Water and Power Subcommittee from 2008 to 2014, knows the difficulty and sees a lack of leadership. “There’s nobody in Washington who has been willing to lead the charge trying to get Congress to provide authorized funding to do this sort of work.”

‘Reservoir triage’

Because Reclamation is not confident it can operate the river outlet works for an extended run, the agency is focused on keeping Powell above elevation 3,500 feet.

Protecting 3,500 feet comes with all sorts of baggage. It preserves hydropower generation, which power customers appreciate. But in effect the redline at that elevation strands some 4.4 million acre-feet in Lake Powell. (Only 3.7 million acre-feet is technically accessible with the current plumbing.) Some have called this elevation a “de facto” dead pool. Thus, the agitation in the lower basin for a plumbing system within the dam that provides access to this water.

Balken said that downstream water deliveries, not preserving hydropower, should be Reclamation’s biggest concern.

“When these decision makers are talking about Glen Canyon Dam from only a hydropower perspective, I think it’s missing the larger point, which is the dam is about to become the biggest roadblock of water deliveries that the basin has ever seen,” Balken said.

Flows from upstream Flaming Gorge reservoir will be used this spring and summer to bolster the flagging levels at Lake Powell, the nation’s second largest reservoir. (Brett Walton/Circle of Blue)

To avoid the infrastructure risks of dropping below 3,500 feet, Reclamation has started to take extraordinary action. The agency has two emergency levers it is pulling. One is to hold more water back in Lake Powell. Reclamation cut water releases to the legal minimum this year, something it has never done. The other is releasing more water from Flaming Gorge, a reservoir upstream that is in better shape.

As Balken describes it, “This is reservoir triage.”

These emergency actions have serious side-effects. Upstream, Flaming Gorge is expected to lose 35 feet of elevation by next spring, once the extra water has been released. That will hurt the recreation economy of northeastern Utah and southwestern Wyoming – fewer boat ramps in the water, less fishing access.

These upstream releases have limited utility, Wegner said. “You can do that once or twice. But you got to then depend upon Mother Nature refilling those reservoirs upstream.”

Downstream, Lake Mead will drop quickly and it too will approach a level in which hydropower generation at Hoover Dam severely drops. Algal blooms in a warmer, shallower lake could be a problem. “They’re going to be robbing Mead to pay Powell,” Balken said.

Trying not to hit bottom

The idea of dead pool – when Lake Powell can no longer release water – was almost inconceivable when the reservoir was designed and filled. The official device for measuring Lake Powell’s elevation ends at the top of the penstocks, at elevation 3,477.5 feet. According to Reclamation’s 2024 technical memo, “This is an indication that reservoir elevations below minimum power pool” – 3,490 feet – “were not anticipated.”

Reclamation finished filling the reservoir in 1980. Three years later, after an intense El Niño winter, the dam’s upper limits were tested. Floodwaters in the summer of 1983 nearly broke the dam. Such volumes are almost inconceivable now.

In a typical year, Lake Powell would be rising in late April, flush with the deposits of snowmelt from headwater basins in the Rocky Mountains. Not this year. The snowpack peaked in many basins in late February or early March. What little snow there was has already melted. As of April 28, Lake Powell inflows are projected to be just 16% of average. Lake level forecasts from mid-April showed a long downward slope for the next 12 months. Those projections were what triggered the emergency release of water from Flaming Gorge and the reduction in Lake Powell releases.

Scientists have been warning about circumstances like this for years. In a defining period for the basin, all the predictions of water supply shocks in the Colorado River from the past two decades are coming to pass.

“We should have been prepared for this,” Balken said.

This story was produced by Circle of Blue, in partnership with The Water Desk at the University of Colorado Boulder’s Center for Environmental Journalism.

Colorado River emergency actions leave root causes of crisis unaddressed

By
Caitlin Ochs, High Country News
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Flaming Gorge Reservoir stores water from the Green River in Wyoming, and is shared by Wyoming and Utah. (Ted Wood/The Water Desk)

On April 17, the federal government ordered emergency measures to prevent water levels at Lake Powell from falling so low that Glen Canyon Dam, which created the reservoir, could no longer generate power or deliver water downstream. Without this intervention, models showed that the reservoir could drop below safe operating levels in August, meaning that the river would not have a reliable way to flow past the dam. This would threaten water and power supplies for millions of people across the Southwest, as well as the flow of water through the Grand Canyon.

Across the Colorado River Basin, an extremely low snowpack combined with a record-shattering March heat wave, have left water managers with few other options. The region’s reservoirs were already depleted from years of relying on wet winters to balance the growing demand with the ongoing drought.

The Bureau of Reclamation ordered releases from Flaming Gorge Reservoir, which straddles the Utah-Wyoming border, to bolster Lake Powell’s water levels. At the same time, the amount of water delivered from Powell to downstream users will be significantly reduced.

“This is a short-term solution,” said Jenny Dumas, water attorney for the Jicarilla Apache Nation, which sits near the border of Colorado and New Mexico. “It’s going to take time to recover these reservoirs before we can do this again. So while we can exhaust our reserves to avoid system collapse this year, it means reserves won’t be there next year.”

This is not the first time water managers have turned to Flaming Gorge to stabilize the larger river system. In 2022, the federal government ordered the reservoir to release 550,000 acre-feet to stabilize the downstream river system, which disrupted recreation and rattled upstream communities. This time, Reclamation has authorized releases of up to 1 million acre-feet. Over the next year, a third of the reservoir’s storage is expected to be gradually released. By September, water levels are projected to drop about 12 feet.

“This is an unprecedented release volume — more than double the last time,” said Amy Haas, executive director of the Colorado River Authority of Utah, who briefed communities bracing for the releases at Flaming Gorge Reservoir. “We really just don’t know the actual impacts of these releases to surrounding communities, and our water users are struggling. My goodness, we are on target to become one of the worst water years on record. The forecasts are stunning to all of us.” 

The amount of water projected to flow into the river from snowmelt is rapidly declining. Over the first two weeks of April, forecasts for Lake Powell fell by 500,000 acre-feet. The spring forecast is shifting so quickly, some experts believe the releases from Flaming Gorge may need to increase.

“I think it’s a target, and they’re going to have to revise it,” said veteran water manager and researcher Eric Kuhn, who co-authored a paper last September predicting this kind of shortage and calling for action. “It’s many river miles from Flaming Gorge to Lake Powell. What are the transit losses?”

“Also, when March looked like June, what are June and July going to look like?” he added. “I could easily see that 1 million becomes 1.5 million acre-feet by March of 2027.”

Kuhn sees the emergency actions as a sign of broader failure to address the underlying issues that led to the current situation. “The Department of Interior no longer acknowledges that the fundamental problem is climate change. We’re dealing with the symptoms of the disease. We’re not dealing with the underlying problem,” he said. “The law of the river was written for a river that no longer exists from a hydrologic standpoint.”

Flaming Gorge Reservoir straddles the Utah-Wyoming border and has remained a bright spot for water storage in the Colorado River basin amid worsening conditions elsewhere in the watershed. (Ted Wood/The Water Desk)

In an April 21 meeting, Upper Basin state commissioners acknowledged the need for emergency action but warned that this was not a long-term solution. 

“I want to make darn sure people understand … the incredibly difficult, heartbreaking decisions that are having to be made with the lives of generations of cattle production, and farming communities in the Upper Basin states,” particularly in Utah, said Gene Shawcroft, Utah’s Colorado River commissioner.

Wyoming Commissioner Brandon Gebhardt reported that 13,000 acres of agricultural land in the South Piney drainage on the eastern slopes of the Wyoming Range had been cut off from water, adding that even some of the state’s oldest and most senior water rights — some dating to 1898 — will likely be impacted. 

“We expect three of the five Flaming Gorge boat ramps in Wyoming will be rendered unusable, and low reservoir levels will have long-lasting negative impacts on reservoir fisheries,” said Gebhardt. “We recognize what we are approving today will have significant negative impacts on our water resources, local economies and recreation.”

Shortage is affecting more than agriculture and recreation. The Ute Mountain Ute Tribe, for example, reported its sacred springs going dry, affecting ceremonies, and the tribal farm will have to operate with just 14% of its normal water supply. Meanwhile, the Jicarilla Apache Nation said it received just 25% to 35% of its contracted water allocation, leaving tribal leaders uncertain about whether they can divert enough water from the Navajo River to meet the community’s domestic needs.

With no sign of long-term agreement on how to manage the river past September, legal tensions among the basin states remain high.

Arizona’s Department of Water Resources released a statement agreeing with plans to order upstream releases to stabilize Lake Powell but also warning that the revised downstream releases were “substantially less than required under the 1922 Colorado River Compact,” referencing the foundational legal document dividing the river. “Failure to comply,” the release stated, “is itself a serious development that Arizona will assess and respond to accordingly.”

Upper Basin state commissioners plan to hold a special meeting to revisit the issue and vote on whether to continue emergency actions past August after assessing water levels and determining whether or not the releases are working.

Regardless of the possible legal battles, the reduced water in the river, infrastructure limits and political gridlock have left basin communities feeling uncertain about their future water security. After the planned releases from Flaming Gorge, if next winter brings another dry year, it is unlikely that upstream reservoirs will have enough water to stabilize Lake Powell.

The basin needs more than emergency actions, Dumas said. “We really want to emphasize the need for serious and permanent changes in how we use and manage the river to adjust to current and future hydrology.”

This story was produced by High Country News, in partnership with The Water Desk at the University of Colorado Boulder.

The driest year revisited: Five takeaways from 2002 for today’s Colorado River

By
Annie MacKeigan, The Water Desk
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The Colorado River carves through mud left behind from Lake Powell when the reservoir was at full pool, near Hite, Utah in October 2022. (Alexander Heilner/The Water Desk with aerial support from LightHawk)

The Colorado River basin has been here before. 

This year’s historic winter of low snow might feel novel. But recent years give some insight into just how dry the West’s most important river system can get. This season’s scant snowpack is melting rapidly, and turning up memories of other notably dry years. 

Prolonged drought conditions and warming temperatures since 2000 have produced severe single-year droughts in 2002, 2012, 2018 and 2020 in the river’s headwaters states of Colorado, Wyoming and Utah. As severe drought years continue to put the Southwest’s water infrastructure to the test, communities in the region are grappling with how best to understand and adapt to a changing climate. 

2002 stands as the worst drought on record for the Colorado River, measured as the flow into one of its biggest reservoirs, Lake Powell on the Utah-Arizona border. It’s possible 2026 could break that record. Back then the year acted as a wake-up call to the region’s water leaders, spurred important policy changes, and reshaped attitudes around conservation. 

We asked Colorado River experts Eric Kuhn, Jeff Lukas and Jim Lochhead to share five important takeaways from the 2002 drought, and what to know as we enter the warmer, drier months of 2026.  

1. Reservoirs have memory

Reservoirs act as batteries for water availability, charged by inputs such as snowmelt, streams, rivers and precipitation. 

“What you did two or three years ago can affect your water supply now,” said Eric Kuhn, former general manager for the Colorado River Water Conservation District. “So in a good year, if you are conserving, you are actually helping the system out for the next drought.” 

The 2002 drought prompted municipal utilities to rethink their reservoir usage. 

“Water managers and agencies have absorbed several lessons from 2002, including holding something back. They’re operating the reservoirs a little differently,” said Jeff Lukas, an independent climate and water researcher who has lived on Colorado’s Front Range for 40 years. 

By conserving reservoir water, municipal utilities can maintain water storage for less abundant water years of the future. But as dry conditions have dogged the entire Colorado River basin for more than a quarter-century, the system’s buffer is gone. 

“The biggest issue is that Lake Powell and Lake Mead were relatively full in 2002,” Kuhn said. Now, both Lake Powell and Lake Mead are at critically low levels, and the water scarcity is increasing the likelihood of multi-state litigation.

In 2002, drought was dealt with on a local level; water utilities were not thinking about drought in terms of the entire river system, but instead how to regulate municipal water use. This year’s dry conditions are pushing the whole region to the brink. 

2. Conservation can make a big difference, if it is mandatory

Individual contributions to water conservation, adhering to local outdoor watering restrictions for example, can make a difference. Prompted by the 2002 drought, a 2004 University of Colorado study aimed to measure the effectiveness of water restrictions put in place by water providers on the state’s populated Front Range. 

The study followed municipal water providers Thornton, Aurora, Westminster, Fort Collins, Boulder, Louisville, Lafayette and Denver Water, comparing 2002 usage to average water usage in 2000 and 2001. Researchers determined that water restrictions are most effective when mandatory. Mandatory restrictions in Lafayette reduced water usage by as much as 53%, according to the study. 

The same study found that under mandatory restrictions, savings of expected water use per capita was as successful as 56%, while voluntary restrictions only measured up to 12%. 

Outdoor watering represents a big slice of a city’s water budget, and 2002 showed utilities that in times of crisis people can rein in their use. 

“Everyone should realize that they can make a small contribution to the solution,” Kuhn said. “Even though their individual contribution might be miniscule, when you add up all their neighbors and other people, it’s not miniscule. It’s very, very big.” 

Watering a lawn once or twice a week, and not during peak hours, is a practical way to conserve water while keeping grass alive. 

3. This is not a one-off year

It’s easy to shrug off a dry year and hope for wet weather’s return. But the long-term trends are concerning. 

“This is really the 26th year of extreme drought,” said former Denver Water CEO Jim Lochhead. On a larger scale, the seven Colorado River basin states—Arizona, California, Colorado, Nevada, New Mexico, Utah and Wyoming—have been preparing for worsening drought conditions since the shock of 2002. But river policy hasn’t kept pace with the aridification, leaving the region’s largest reservoirs at near record lows. 

The Colorado River flows through canyons in northern Arizona in October 2020. (Ross Rice/The Water Desk & LightHawk)

“This has been a slow moving train that I think the states have known was coming, and they have frankly failed to do anything about it,” said Lochhead, who also represented the state of Colorado amid interstate Colorado River negotiations in the 1990s and early 2000s.

The Colorado Climate Center anticipates droughts to increase in severity and frequency, a trend that is only expected to continue in Colorado and across the Southwest as warming temperatures upend the water cycle. 

“We should be managing and thinking about water, using water, as though it were always a drought,” Lukas said. 

4. Communities have more practice dealing with drought, but still struggle  

Drought conditions in 2002 led some municipal water utilities to organize and create incentives for conservation, and transformed the urban landscape, swapping grass for more drought-tolerant plants. Those water restrictions allowed municipal water providers to curb water demand while steadily growing in size. However, there is still room for improvement in disproportionately affected communities.  

According to Lochhead, urban areas need to prioritize heat reduction in neighborhoods that have fewer trees in order to lessen the impacts of drought and warming temperatures. Using scarce water supplies to encourage tree-planting and increase shade should remain a priority. 

“I think we need to work with those communities to enhance some landscaping,” Lochhead said. “Whether it’s the homeless population, whether it’s just kids that are out, whatever it may be, those areas are where they’re pretty hard hit by heat.” 

Farmers and ranchers are used to riding the highs and lows of western weather. But extremely dry years like 2002, and now 2026, can push their operations to the limits. 

“This is going to be a really tough year,” Lukas said. “You’re going to have a lot of people selling off their herds and taking insurance out because of low crop yields.”

The majority of Colorado’s annual water supply is used for irrigation, so any proposed restrictions can be costly for the agricultural community. “There are going to be a lot of farms and ranches that just can’t operate because they don’t have any water,” Lochhead said. “There are going to be some significant economic consequences.” 

5. Stay aware, even if things seem bleak 

For Lukas, this year and its predecessors test our expectations about what nature can provide.

Even in periods of prolonged drought, there are wet years. “Judging from history, that tends to put everyone back on their heels, a little complacent,” Lukas said, but maintaining water storage relies on year-to-year vigilance, not complacency.  

Another primary concern during drought years is wildfire. With less moisture in the soil, dry vegetation acts as fuel for wildfire, which becomes harder to contain under hot and dry conditions. 

“I worry a lot less about municipal water supply than I do about wildfire,” Lukas said. Many of Colorado’s notably dry years have also recorded severe and destructive wildfires. 

It comes at no surprise that worsening drought falls in line with worsening wildfires. “Climate change is delivered to people through changes in the hydrologic cycle,” Kuhn said, so being aware of water usage now is just as, if not more important as it was in 2002.

This story was produced and distributed by The Water Desk at the University of Colorado Boulder’s Center for Environmental Journalism.

As the West’s scant snowpack melts, Coloradans brace for a lean water year

By
Annie MacKeigan, The Water Desk
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In early March 2026, bushes and vegetation stick out from under the snow under a lift at Arapahoe Basin. (Annie MacKeigan/The Water Desk)

Call it the winter that wasn’t.

Throughout Colorado a record-warm and dry winter has come to a close. Attention now pivots to spring and the potential for additional snow to allay increasing drought concerns. Though, there appears to be  little relief in sight. 

The Denver-metro area went months without measurable snowfall this winter. The city’s daytime temperatures often surpassed 60 degrees. Hikers and trail runners rejoiced over the warm weather while grumbling skiers lamented their underused season passes. 

In the state’s Rocky Mountains snow accumulation was sluggish, as warmer than normal temperatures led to midseason snowmelt, and caused more precipitation to fall as rain instead of snow. A persistent mid-March heatwave kicked off rapid snowmelt. Colorado’s snowpack, and in the broader Colorado River basin, set new record lows throughout winter. T-shirt weather wasn’t just confined to lower elevations either. The high country too experienced balmy days and nights. 

Spring snowmelt is underway near Red Mountain Pass in Colorado’s San Juan Mountains on March 14, 2026. (Mitch Tobin/The Water Desk)

The mild year has already led to lifestyle changes for Colorado residents, and threatens to do even more. Ski resorts are closing early, ranchers are worrying about the security of their irrigation supplies, and water managers are considering contingency plans if such conditions persist.  

This year, powder days that rev the state’s ski economy were replaced with sunshine. Recreation is not the only industry under threat from rising temperatures and low snowpack. The state’s agricultural economy hinges on access to snowmelt.

Marsha and John “Doc” Daughenbaugh call the Rocking C Bar Ranch near Steamboat Springs home. Marsha is a third generation rancher in the area, and the couple have passed the business off to their two children. They still worry that if such dry conditions continue, it would “seriously affect our ability to keep going,” Marsha said. 

Marsha and Doc Daughenbaugh of Rocking C Bar Ranch, west of Steamboat Springs, Colo., say dry winters call into question their ranch’s longterm viability. (Annie MacKeigan/The Water Desk)

A well-welcomed snow system worked its way through parts of the state in early March, providing the nearby Steamboat Ski Resort a self-reported 6 inches of new powder. But it quickly melted, and the Daughenbaughs were ankle deep in mud come midday. 

Doc has long made a habit of measuring inches of snowpack in the ranch’s meadow each year on March 20, right around the spring equinox. Few of his recordings—which began in 1989—noted no snow.

The most sobering of Doc’s notations is also the most recent. During a visit in early March, the entry read, “all snow gone by Feb. 26.” 

The Daughenbaughs have collected snow measurements on their ranch near Steamboat Springs since 1989. (Annie MacKeigan/The Water Desk)

The noticeably scant snow is not the only observation the Daughenbaughs have made this year. Robins, geese and sandhill cranes had already returned to the family’s ranch by early March, not usually due back until the first week of spring. 

Marsha, who has lived in Steamboat since 1953, recalled “three-wire winters,” when snow would build up to the third wire on the barbed-wire fences that surrounded their property. “They were really a common thing,” she said. 

Their main concern is that any snowpack that does accumulate this spring will travel down the mountains fast, due to warm temperatures and limited reserves, which means less water availability sooner in the year for high country ranchers like themselves. 

South of the Daughenbaughs, skiers and snowboarders in Summit County are seeing their seasons cut short.

At its summit, Arapahoe Basin is one of the county’s highest ski resorts in elevation. But instead of the high elevation benefitting the mountain, it has become somewhat of a disadvantage. According to Doug Petrick, a skier from Erie, Colo. who frequents Arapahoe Basin, the back side of the mountain was extremely icy because of its exposure to this year’s unseasonably high winds. 

In addition to Arapahoe Basin, Petrick also skis at Breckenridge, Keystone, Vail, Copper and Winter Park. Petrick has recorded 30 days of skiing this season which is on par for seasons past. However, the difference in conditions this year has been noticeable. 

“There has been a lot of exposure of rock and dirt. The snow is not enough to cover the mountain,” he said. “My skis have taken more of a beating due to the exposed rock and dirt.” 

While Arapahoe Basin benefits from high elevation terrain, other Colorado resorts struggled to stay viable. Powderhorn in Mesa County, Sunlight in Garfield County, and Ski Cooper near Leadville all shuttered before their scheduled closing days this spring. 

Because skiing is his favorite winter activity, Petrick is holding out hope for more snowfall and a better next season. “But if next year is the same or worse,” he posed, he may start to worry. 

Runners, hikers and bikers recreated in t-shirts and tank tops on Foothills South Trail in Boulder, Colo., on March 4, 2026. The month is typically Colorado’s snowiest. (Annie MacKeigan/The Water Desk)

Petrick is not the only one holding out hope for the future. Colorado’s cities too look seasons ahead to ensure they have enough water to meet their needs. Matt Fater, senior director of infrastructure engineering for the City of Fort Collins’ water utility, is hopeful for more spring snow. Without it, the city may have to tap into existing water storage. 

“We’re not in a crisis mode yet,” Fater said. “We’re watching it closely. We do have short term and long range plans when it comes to drought planning.” 

The long range planning includes a policy that requires the city to be prepared for a 1-in-50 year drought. In the case of a severe drought, the city pulls water from different storage reserves that accumulate during particularly wet years. Fater reinforced the need for additional storage in the city, to “make sure we can meet the demand of our community.” 

Snowpack that supplies the Cache La Poudre River has lagged well below average this year. The river is a main water source for the city of Fort Collins. (Annie MacKeigan/The Water Desk)

Other cities aren’t waiting. Denver Water has already let its customers know they’ll be restricted on their outdoor summer watering this year. In Erie, residents who flouted the town’s voluntary outdoor watering restrictions now face the potential of being cut off completely, according to CBS Colorado. And planning for the potentially hot and dry summer ahead has led Governor Jared Polis to activate a statewide drought task force too. 

Snowpack in the high country acts as a battery for water availability, Fater said. Without enough snowpack to “recharge” those additional storage sites, a future drought could result in limited water availability and potential restrictions in the city.

Ranchers, skiers and water users throughout the state were hopeful that March would bring a miracle, and the snowpack deficit would decrease after a few big storms. But with a warm winter transitioning to an even warmer spring, the hopes of a few high-powered snowstorms are fading.

This story was produced and distributed by The Water Desk at the University of Colorado Boulder’s Center for Environmental Journalism.

Upper Basin states test methods to fill Powell pool

By
Heather Sackett, Aspen Journalism
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Lake Powell, on the Colorado River, is seen from the air in 2019. The Upper Basin states are planning how to potentially fill a dedicated pool in the nation’s second largest reservoir. Credit: EcoFlight

This story was originally published by Aspen Journalism on March 19, 2026.

With a Lake Powell conservation pool nearly guaranteed for the future of Colorado River management, the four Upper Basin states are exploring and refining the ways they could fill it.

Conservation by those states (Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Wyoming) could be one of the keys to reaching a deal among the seven states that share the Colorado River and an important part of the framework for managing the drought-stricken river after this year. The water saved by the Upper Basin states could be stored in Lake Powell as a means of maintaining higher water levels and as an insurance policy against drastic cuts.

This type of pool isn’t yet being used in Lake Powell; it would have to be established by an agreement among the seven states. An agreement in the 2019 Drought Contingency Plan allowed for a 500,000 acre-foot Upper Basin storage pool in Lake Powell, but so far, the states have not utilized this and the agreement expires this year.

The Upper Basin and Lower Basin (California, Arizona and Nevada) have been at an impasse for more than two years about how the nation’s two largest reservoirs — Lake Powell and Lake Mead — will be managed and shortages shared in the future. The situation has never been more dire: The current guidelines for river management expire at the end of the year, while record-low snowpack is expected to push reservoir levels below critical thresholds. The seven states have blown past two deadlines to come up with a plan, and the federal government is gearing up for emergency actions to manage reservoirs.

The crux of the disagreement between the two basins has been over who should take shortages in drought years. The Lower Basin has committed to 1.5 million acre-feet of reductions annually and wants cuts beyond that to be shared by the Upper Basin. The Upper Basin says its water users already take cuts in some years because streams run dry by midsummer and any contributions they make must be voluntary.

The main boat ramp at Wahweap Marina was unusable due to low water levels in Lake Powell in December 2021. The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation is projecting that the reservoir will fall below critical thresholds later this year. Credit: Heather Sackett/Aspen Journalism

Contribution not conservation

Some Upper Basin officials have made a slight shift in the way they now talk about a pool in Lake Powell. No longer referred to as a conservation pool, it is called a “contribution” pool, reflecting the different methods — not only conservation of agricultural water — of contributing water to a Lake Powell pool.

Traditionally, the Colorado River basin states have turned to programs that pay irrigators to voluntarily leave fields dry for a season or two as the primary way to cut water use. With agriculture representing the majority of water use in the Upper Basin, it’s often the low-hanging fruit when it comes to water savings. 

But at least two Upper Basin states are turning to other methods to contribute water to a Lake Powell pool. 

For example, New Mexico can contribute water from Navajo Reservoir that it leases from a tribe. In Colorado, the method is less straightforward, but officials say the state is prioritizing and expanding existing programs and projects that save water. 

“When you talk about things like turf removal, water-loss prevention, watershed restoration, forest-health efforts that are happening on the ground, those are benefits not only to Colorado but to the entire system,” said Becky Mitchell, Colorado’s lead negotiator in talks among the seven states that share the Colorado River. “So we’re trying to figure out: How do we acknowledge all of that work?”

Raymond Langstaff, a rancher and president of the Bookcliff Conservation District, irrigates a parcel north of Rifle. The state of Colorado explored the feasibility of a demand management program that would pay irrigators to cut back, but did not implement one. Credit: Heather Sackett/Aspen Journalism

Utah touts pragmatic approach

Over its run in 2023 and 2024, the federally funded System Conservation Pilot Program doled out $45 million to Upper Basin irrigators to cut their use by about 100,000 acre-feet. Utah water users received about $15 million of that in exchange for temporarily forgoing about 37,000 acre-feet of Colorado River water. The state put lessons learned with SCPP to use and is now in the second year of its own demand management pilot program, funded by $5 million from the state legislature and run by the Colorado River Authority of Utah. 

The pilot program lets water users temporarily participate in a conservation program, and pays them $390 an acre-foot of water to do it. In 2025, Utah sent about 8,000 acre-feet downstream to Lake Powell under this pilot program, according to Marc Stilson, deputy director and principal engineer of the authority. There are a couple industrial water users and one municipal water user among the participants, but the majority are agricultural, he said.

“The pilot program is trying to iron out all these issues so that if we end up with some type of post-2026 commitment to do these types of voluntary conservation programs, we’re ready to do it,” Stilson said. “There is a very pragmatic approach in Utah looking at the big picture, and I think generally there is a sense that we have to adapt to changing conditions.”

Whether the program will continue after this year is unclear and could depend on whether the states reach a deal.

“We were anticipating that we’d have an agreement and that these types of programs would be part of that agreement,” Stilson said. “I think we just have to take a wait-and-see approach.”

Wyoming is also looking to traditional programs: State lawmakers are establishing a voluntary water conservation program. Wyoming state engineer and lead negotiator Brandon Gebhart did not respond to phone calls, emails or a list of questions from Aspen Journalism.

Boater on the San Juan River in May 2023. New Mexico officials say they can contribute water to a pool in Lake Powell through releasing water they lease in Navajo Reservoir. Credit: Heather Sackett/Aspen Journalism

New Mexico seeks ‘more diverse’ ways to contribute water

The state of New Mexico plans to contribute to a Powell pool mostly through 20,000 acre-feet of Navajo Reservoir water, which it leases from the Jicarilla Apache Nation and can be released down the San Juan River. Along the way to Lake Powell, it boosts flows for endangered fish. Officials say because they can control when they release the water, it can be tracked with certainty to the reservoir. 

“We all need to focus on more diverse ways of contributions, not just the classic conserved consumptive use,” said Ali Effati, Colorado River basin bureau chief for the New Mexico Interstate Stream Commission. 

Water managers say that automatically turning to agricultural water isn’t always reliable because as climate change continues to rob rivers of flows, even if senior water users want to participate in these types of conservation programs, they may not have any water to spare in dry years.

“That doesn’t mean that we have shied away from those sorts of activities, but to the extent that we can do our part without having to ask our agricultural community to cut water where they already take significant cuts almost annually, that’s just a preferable perspective,” said Estevan Lopez, lead negotiator for New Mexico.

Lopez said the likelihood of seeing a future Upper Basin contribution pool in Lake Powell is nearly 100% and that New Mexico will be ready, willing and able to contribute its share of water when the time comes.

“We have our percentage easily covered, plus a significant amount more,” he said.

These hay bales stand ready to be collected on a ranch outside of Carbondale in July 2024.  Upper Basin states have traditionally looked to agricultural to conserve water, but some are now turning to other ways to contribute water. Credit: Heather Sackett/Aspen Journalism

Colorado points to programs already in place

Colorado water users participated in both years of SCPP, but the state has been reluctant to take the leap into setting up its own program, despite being an early leader of the conservation conversation among the Upper Basin states.

In 2019, Colorado convened nine workgroups to explore the feasibility of a demand management program. The process included Colorado River water users from across the state and in multiple water-use sectors, who looked at how to set up a temporary, voluntary, compensated state program. But in 2022, the state water board shelved the studies without implementing a program, in favor of focusing on drought-resiliency initiatives. 

Mitchell said the demand management feasibility investigation was an incredibly valuable exercise, but that there are still a number of open questions. Inaction on a demand management program doesn’t mean inaction on conservation overall, she said.

“The CWCB board voted to pause that investigation until there was clarity about whether any such program would be achievable, worthwhile and advisable and until there’s evidence that a demand management-esque program would benefit Colorado,” Mitchell said. 

In 2023, Colorado lawmakers created a task force to again examine how the state could implement demand reduction and conservation programs. Water managers punted the issue again, failing to make recommendations to lawmakers on this topic, with some members saying conservation programs were “premature.” 

The state still does not seem to have the policies in place to implement a large-scale, traditional conservation program in the near future. Mitchell said Colorado’s plan to contribute water to a Lake Powell pool is through the programs and projects already in place, many of which are funded through the state’s Water Plan grants.

At its March meeting, the CWCB approved more than $13 million for 38 projects across the state, according to a press release. They include things like urban turf replacement, creek and wetland restoration, outdoor water budgeting and wildfire ready action plans.

“Our strategy is to continue on with the programs that are already in existence, continue to fund conservation efforts that benefit all Coloradans as well as the entire system, continue to live within the means of the river and adapt our uses to align with available supply,” Mitchell said. “Because of all those programs already set up, we believe we have the majority of the structure in place.”

But Mitchell would not put a number on the amount of water that Colorado could contribute.

“We want to be a part of the solution when and how we are able to, but no, I’m not going to say we can do 100,000 acre-feet in a year like this,” she said.

Colorado River watchers may soon get some clarity around exactly how — and how much — Upper Basin states plan to contribute to a Lake Powell pool. On March 24, the Upper Colorado River Commission plans to consider projects to include in a “provisional accounting” memorandum of understanding (MOU) with the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation, according to UCRC Director Chuck Cullom. 

Some Upper Basin projects that are not traditional agricultural conservation programs may be counted under the MOU, allowing the states to “get credit” for the water they save through unconventional means. Cullom said the UCRC and Bureau of Reclamation will also soon have an accounting report of water-saving activities undertaken in 2025. 

Mitchell said Colorado is still committed to a seven-state consensus agreement and wants to avoid litigation. But acknowledgement of what the Upper Basin is already doing to cut back on water use will be important.

“The MOU is one component where we would like to see some sort of real acknowledgement of what is occurring in terms of the way that we live within the means of the river and what our strict administration is doing,” Mitchell said. “As long as we are not acknowledged in what’s happening on the ground, I think we’re going to have struggles.”

A record warm winter could send Lake Powell to a historic low. Flaming Gorge may be its lifeline

By
Brooke Larsen, The Salt Lake Tribune
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Lake Powell near Glen Canyon Dam in Page, Ariz. on Tuesday, May 20, 2025. (Trent Nelson / The Salt Lake Tribune)

A cream-colored band lines the orange sandstone walls that rise above the blue-green waters of Lake Powell. The so-called “bathtub rings,” these chalky layers remind boaters zooming across the popular reservoir how far the lake has fallen.

After two decades of drought and an exceptionally warm winter, those rings will likely soon span even wider as Powell continues to drop towards a record low.

“Right now the hydrology that we have in front of us puts us in a very, very precarious situation,” said Gene Shawcroft, Utah’s Colorado River negotiator.

Utah just wrapped up its warmest winter on record. Salt Lake City broke its previous maximum average winter temperature by 2 degrees Fahrenheit — a significant increase, according to the Colorado Basin River Forecast Center. While the state received similar precipitation compared to last year, much of that fell as rain, leading to the worst snowpack since 1981 in parts of the state. Now, the water supply outlook is “well below normal,” according to the center.

The Bureau of Reclamation’s latest most probable forecast for Lake Powell shows it sinking below “power pool” — 3,490 feet — by December. At that level, water can’t make it through the turbines at Glen Canyon Dam that generate hydropower and keep the lights on across Utah and six other states.

Powell could hit that dangerous low even sooner, though. The bureau’s most recent forecast was based on the Colorado Basin River Forecast Center’s February report. Since then, the center’s projection for water flows into Powell has dropped by 100,000 acre-feet.

The bureau’s most probable forecast can also be optimistic. The agency’s minimum probable forecast, which shows a dry scenario that would statistically happen only 10% of the time, sometimes aligns more with reality. Last year, the April 2025 minimum probable study forecasted Lake Powell to hit 3,535 feet in elevation by the end of February 2026. The lake currently sits at 3,530 feet.

The bathtub ring is visible at Lake Powell near Ticaboo, Utah on Tuesday, Oct. 17, 2023. (Bethany Baker / The Salt Lake Tribune)

The bureau’s latest minimum probable forecast shows the lake dropping below 3,490 by the end of August.

“It’s safe for us to assume that, unless Mother Nature is uncharacteristically generous, that Lake Powell elevations are going to fluctuate at elevations that we’re not comfortable with,” Wayne Pullan, Upper Colorado regional director for the bureau, said at a Glen Canyon Dam meeting last week.

How the feds could boost Powell

To prop up Powell, the bureau will likely rely on another popular Utah reservoir: Flaming Gorge.

The reservoir that straddles the border of Utah and Wyoming has the best water outlook in the basin, at 64% of normal, according to the forecast center. The Upper Green River, which flows into Flaming Gorge, is the “lone bright spot” for snow water equivalent — the amount of water snow holds. Colder snow holds more water.

Under a 2019 plan, the bureau may form an agreement with Utah and the other states in the Upper Colorado River Basin — Colorado, New Mexico and Wyoming — to release water from Flaming Gorge and a few other reservoirs, such as Blue Mesa in Colorado, to maintain hydropower at Glen Canyon Dam.

That’s what happened the last time forecasts showed Powell dropping to a dangerous low level in 2022. A record wet winter followed that dry year, though, boosting the reservoirs.

That’s not something states can depend on every year in the future.

“Flaming Gorge is a finite resource,” Amy Haas, director of the Colorado River Authority of Utah, told The Tribune. “You may get two or three or four major releases out of Flaming Gorge before you’ve brought that reservoir down to the mud, so to speak.”

“It is not going to save the system,” she added.

The Green River flows through Red Canyon and Flaming Gorge on Tuesday, June 20, 2023. (Trent Nelson / The Salt Lake Tribune)

In the short term, it may be Powell’s only hope, though.

Utah and the three other states in the Upper Colorado River Basin — Colorado, New Mexico and Wyoming — sent a letter to the bureau two weeks ago inviting them to form a plan for releases from Flaming Gorge and other upper reservoirs, Shawcroft said.

Releases would likely start on May 1 and go until April 30 of next year, Shawcroft added. The total water released could be around 500,000 acre-feet.

The bureau is also considering reducing how much it lets out of Powell to flow downstream to Lake Mead and ultimately Arizona, California and Nevada. The bureau has already held back nearly 600,000 acre-feet of water in Powell that it would normally release over the winter months.

Originally it planned to release that water this summer. That may not happen, though, depending on what adjustments the bureau ultimately has to make to prop up Powell, Pullan said during a meeting of the Colorado River Authority of Utah earlier this year.

“This summer might be a glimpse into what our future world is going to be, and that’s going to be really limited water use,” Jack Schmidt, director of the Center for Colorado River Studies at Utah State University, said.

“So many things are compromised now,” he added. “The only silver lining is that crises often force real innovation, and maybe that’s the only outcome that we get out of this.”

This article is published through the Colorado River Collaborative, a solutions journalism initiative supported by the Janet Quinney Lawson Institute for Land, Water, and Air at Utah State University. See all of our stories about how Utahns are impacted by the Colorado River at greatsaltlakenews.org/coloradoriver.

Aspen activist wants ‘rights of nature’ for the Roaring Fork River

By
Heather Sackett, Aspen Journalism
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The Roaring Fork River during spring runoff in 2023. An Aspen activist is hoping elected officials will pass a Rights of Nature resolution, giving rights to the river. Credit: Curtis Wackerle/Aspen Journalism

This story was originally published by Aspen Journalism on March 6, 2026.

An Aspen activist is hoping to gain support for a paradigm shift in the way people view their local waterway by granting rights to the Roaring Fork River.

Environmental psychologist, author and Aspen Times columnist Lindsay Branham is asking local elected officials to consider a resolution protecting the Roaring Fork and its tributaries by recognizing that nature has rights and that it’s the government’s responsibility to care for them.

“When I came across the rights of nature movement, it just really fascinated me because it invites people to really change the way they see nature altogether and removes the resource/object/othering language and framework, and invites this personhood,” Branham said. 

The Rights of Nature is a small but growing movement that seeks to evolve the legal system’s relationship with nature from one that views rivers as a resource and property for human use, to recognizing that natural entities have intrinsic value and an inherent right to exist. It pushes back against the common notion that the “working rivers” of the American West simply convey water for human purposes.

“If you’re an innovator and a dreamer and you love nature, this movement for rights of rivers is right up your alley,” said Grant Wilson, executive director of the Durango-based Earth Law Center, a nonprofit that works to give nature a voice in the legal system. 

Branham first presented the idea to Aspen City Council during public comment at a meeting in late 2025, but she was referred to the Pitkin County Healthy Rivers board. County staff have met with Branham and said they are looking closely at the issue. The consideration of a draft resolution by the Healthy Rivers board would be the first step in the process, though it’s unclear when such a resolution might be brought forward.

“We certainly recognize the importance of considering impacts of any actions on the river, but to a large extent we are already doing a lot of that through our land use code and through the Healthy Rivers and Streams board,” said Anne Marie McPhee, deputy Pitkin County attorney. “We’ve asked Lindsay for more information.”

A handful of Colorado communities have passed resolutions that give rights to local waterways: Grand Lake to its namesake body of water, Ridgway to the Uncompahgre River and most recently, Durango to the Animas River.

Indigenous communities have been some of the first to take up this cause. In November, the Colorado River Indian Tribes granted personhood to the Colorado River for the roughly 100 miles it flows through tribal land on the border between California and Arizona near the town of Parker, recognizing the river as a living being and the sacred obligation to protect it.

Once the rights of a river are codified in a resolution, local governments have a duty to consider them through policymaking and land use planning. Officials could also appoint a guardian to represent and speak on behalf of the river, and produce an annual report on the status of river health. The specifics are tailored to each community, and the resolutions are usually non-binding and largely symbolic. 

Rights of Nature resolutions are not intended to spark litigation or meddle with water rights, Wilson said.

“What I’ve been advocating for is a softer, more cultural movement toward the rights of nature that’s not litigious,” Wilson said. “We’re not trying to get in the courts and cancel permits . … This movement is really a way to hold a mirror up to community values and how we treat nature.”

Ridgway Reservoir is formed by a dam on the Uncompahgre River. A resolution passed in 2021 by the Ridgway Town Council that gives rights to the river remains untested. Credit: Heather Sackett/Aspen Journalism

Ridgway resolution remains untested

In 2021, the town of Ridgway passed a resolution granting the Uncompahgre River, which flows through town, and its tributaries five inalienable rights: the right to maintain natural flow in sufficient quantity for ecosystem health; the right to support essential ecosystem functions; the right to feed and be fed by sustainable precipitation, glaciers and aquifers; the right to maintain native biodiversity; and the right to restoration and preservation of ecosystem health. 

The resolution says the town has the responsibility to implement and enforce policies that support these rights, and oppose or address through mitigation activities that would violate these rights. Mayor John Clark said with miles of riverfront within town boundaries, protecting the waterway from encroaching development is important. But so far, the resolution remains untested, he said. 

“Since we adopted the resolution, there’s been no need for any enforcement,” Clark said. “There have been no development proposals that would have triggered any action based on the resolution.”

Over four years after the resolution passed, the town still has not appointed a guardian of the river, although the local nonprofit Uncompahgre Watershed Partnership provides an annual report about the state of the waterway, Clark said. He said the resolution is a formal recognition that the Uncompahgre River is important to Ridgway residents’ quality of life and that the town council should consider the natural environment in decision-making. 

“We did get a few people speaking up and saying, ‘what is the point of this if it doesn’t have more teeth to it?’” Clark said. “And our response was: ‘It’s a start. You’ve got to start somewhere.’”

While the Rights of Nature movement seems to be establishing a foothold globally – the Rights of Nature was enshrined in Ecuador’s constitution in 2008 – it has suffered setbacks in Colorado. After granting rights to Boulder Creek and appointing guardians to advocate for its interests, the town of Nederland repealed the resolution so it could support building its own dam on Middle Boulder Creek. 

Gary Wockner, director of environmental group Save the World’s Rivers, was involved in this contentious back and forth, supporting the Rights of Nature resolution and then entering the water court case to oppose Nederland’s dam plans. But Wockner said the movement is less about water law and more a campaign of transforming hearts and minds. 

“We’re moving toward a new paradigm in river protection,” Wockner said. “These resolutions are a concept that make intuitive, logical and passionate sense for people to start talking about how important the river is to their community and should have a right to exist.”

Branham is hoping Aspen can become the fourth Colorado town to grant personhood to its local waterway. 

“Aspen and Pitkin County could really be known for setting a precedent and a standard for shifting an extractive relationship to natural ecosystems,” Branham said. “They already have in so many ways and this is another step. What if we could set that example?”

Potable water needs in southeastern Colorado persist despite Trump veto

By
Annie MacKeigan, The Water Desk
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The water that comes down from the high country that will eventually funnel into the Arkansas Valley Conduit will be stored at Pueblo Reservoir, pictured here on Jan. 31, 2026. (Annie MacKeigan/The Water Desk)

For the last two years, Robin Daigle has had to boil her tap water before pouring it in ice cube trays. 

She boils tap water if she needs it to cook. When her children are thirsty, Daigle drives 30 minutes to Walmart to pick up bottled water. 

“We are afraid to drink the water,” said Daigle, who moved to North La Junta, Colo. two years ago and has not had drinkable tap water since. 

She is far from alone. Residents of southeastern Colorado regularly take trips to the store to buy potable water. They wash their clothes and bathe in the contaminated water that flows from their faucets. 

“I worry that over time it could cause health problems,” Daigle said. “Having safe drinking water is vital for humans to be able to thrive.” 

In southeastern Colorado, tap water can run orange out of the faucet, smell of bleach and corrode the appliances it touches. Tap water can be laden with some carcinogenic contaminants, like naturally-occurring selenium and radium. Many of the valley’s shallow groundwater wells produce water high in iron, manganese and other heavy metals, which can be hazardous to human health. Sourcing of the contaminants found in the lower Arkansas Valley may include erosion of natural deposits and discharge from petroleum refineries or mines, according to EPA drinking water regulations.  

The experiences of Daigle, her neighbors, and surrounding communities caught new attention following a presidential veto in late December 2025 that denied measures to refinance the cost to construct the Arkansas Valley Conduit, a new source of drinking water. Many residents in southeastern Colorado still seek out potable water; some drive to the nearest grocer to buy individual bottles, gallon jugs, or even five-gallon jugs of drinking water. Others rely on reverse osmosis, or R.O., filters. 

In many Arkansas Valley communities, the water is unsafe to drink, but residents are also concerned about the costs associated with the proposed solution: the 130 miles of pipeline the conduit project plans to build.

The pipeline project intends to serve potable drinking water to around 50,000 people in 39 communities and towns in rural southeastern Colorado. In conjunction with the federal Bureau of Reclamation, the Southeastern Colorado Water Conservancy District is constructing the pipeline and delivery lines aiming to serve the lower Arkansas Valley with potable water. 

Construction began in 2023. Because of the scale and high cost, the project is taking a phased approach. As of Feb. 23, 2026, 12 out of 130 miles of trunk line have been constructed, and two out of 39 delivery lines have been constructed, according to Chris Woodka, senior policy issues manager of the Southeastern Colorado Water Conservancy District.

President Donald Trump vetoed H.R. 131 in Dec. 2025. The act had passed through the House and Senate unanimously with bipartisan support before it was vetoed. The legislation aimed to refinance the existing terms of the project by lowering interest rates from 3% to 1.5%, and extending the repayment period of the project from 50 years to 100, then amended to 75 years.  

The veto did not add or remove any funding for the project itself, according to Woodka. “We didn’t stop any construction,” Woodka said. The project, he said, was not stalled at all.

Lindsey and Jarett Hart are customers of Beehive Water Association, a small, rural cooperative water provider, near the town of Cheraw. They receive quarterly updates from the water company about the quality of their drinking water, which flows out of their tap discolored. Beehive Water Association estimates that they will be able to connect to the Arkansas Valley Conduit by 2031. 

When the couple took their hot tub filter out after three months of use, their old filter was browned and weathered (left). On a tap without an iron filter, the Harts’ water comes out in orange and brown hues (right). (Photos courtesy of Lindsey Hart)

“I am not happy about [waiting] five years, but I would live with it if that meant eventually we could have access to that cleaner, healthier, safer water,” said Lindsey Hart, who is worried that estimate may not be accurate at all. She and her husband feel that updates are not widely available to the public, so they are left guessing. “I certainly wish we could have access to it a lot sooner.” 

Her frustration does not stop at contaminated drinking water. “We can’t even cook with our water. We can’t boil pasta or cook rice or anything like that safely,” Hart said. “Our water down here is awful.” 

In their home, plants die and appliances corrode, all because of contaminated water. The couple does not give the water to their pets either. “When I smell bleach when we turn on our tap or our shower, it’s very frustrating,” Hart said. “It makes me just really irritated and angry.”

Corrosion of household plumbing systems pose their own set of health risks, including lead poisoning.

Beehive Water Association sends quarterly updates about the quality of drinking water to their customers. (Photo courtesy of Lindsey Hart)

The Arkansas Valley Conduit project has been in the works in some form since the Kennedy Administration. In the 1960s, it was part of the Fryingpan-Arkansas Project Act. Portions of that large-scale transmountain diversion project were built out, but not the Arkansas Valley Conduit. The conduit project was halted in 1978 due to funding scarcity. 

By 2000, the conduit was revived. Water quality testing found high levels of radioactive materials in well water, prompting a grassroots group to form in Otero County, advocating for improvement in the quality of their drinking water. 

Riddled with radionuclides and high levels of salinity and selenium, the water in some cases exceeded the maximum contaminant levels (MCLs) set by the EPA. Each of these contaminants pose various health risks for humans when ingested. 

An environmental impact assessment administered by the Bureau of Reclamation found that the project was the best option to reduce community exposure to the contaminated water. “A lot of people down there say, ‘we don’t drink the tap,’” Woodka said. “That’s the situation that creates the need for the Arkansas Valley Conduit.” 

Residents in Southeastern Colorado recreate on the Arkansas River, just east of the Pueblo Reservoir on Jan. 31, 2026. // (Annie MacKeigan/The Water Desk)

Residents of southeastern Colorado are already weary of the potential rising costs they will incur in the face of the project. 

“I cannot fathom anyone would want to smell bleach in their water, or go to turn on the faucet outside and it’d be absolutely burned from rust,” said Hart. “I think the issue is nobody has told these communities or people that are receiving this, what is it actually going to cost us on our water bill?” 

Federal legislation passed in 2009 allowed for 35% of the cost burden to be covered locally, the remaining 65% federally. This share was intended to make the project more affordable for the people of the Lower Arkansas Valley. 

However, in 2024, the construction bill for the project went up due to increases in costs of materials and unanticipated conditions builders ran into on the ground. In 2020, the estimated cost of the project was around $600 million. In 2024, that estimate jumped to $1.3 billion, according to Woodka. Despite the price hike, the project still has support in Colorado. According to Woodka, more than $4 million in grants and loans from the state have gone to construction. 

Trump’s veto also spurred rare bipartisan condemnation among the state’s congressional delegation. U.S. Reps. Lauren Bobert, Jeff Hurd and Joe Neguse have each expressed outrage at the veto decision, and Congress’ refusal to override it. 

But not every Arkansas Valley resident is anxious for the new water supply. James Budnick, a plumber and eight-year resident of Rocky Ford, worries how costs will affect the community. He is in regular attendance at meetings related to water rights in Rocky Ford and Otero County. “I ask them the same question, how is this going to be regulated and who will be regulating it?” Budnick said.

His main concern is that the promise of better water quality will bring development to Rocky Ford and costs will fall on taxpayers rather than developers. “I love Rocky Ford because it’s a small town, but I see that water coming as a threat to the lifestyle,” he said. “The only reason that the valley is the way it is, is because of the water laws out here.” 

Budnick is a member of Newdale-Grand Valley Water Company. The company has a limited number of taps, or a limit on the number of homes they can supply with water. Budnick is particularly worried that the conduit would change water regulations in Rocky Ford with higher costs, less availability. 

A three-way contract between Pueblo Water, the Bureau of Reclamation and the Southeastern Colorado Water Conservancy District was finalized in March of 2022. (Annie MacKeigan/The Water Desk)

“I understand people wanting to save money, as water is extremely expensive,” said Bobby Scott, who recently relocated to the town of Fowler, “but not at the expense of their health. Coming from Texas, this water difference is noticeable.” 

The difference was so noticeable that in the first few weeks of Scott and his wife living in Fowler, they started to feel sick from the water. “I want to find out what we’re drinking,” Scott said. 

The Arkansas Valley Conduit water itself comes from the Fryingpan River on Colorado’s Western Slope. It travels in a tunnel through the Continental Divide, where it deposits into Turquoise Lake just outside Leadville. The water then flows down into Twin Lakes and down the Arkansas River. It then collects in Pueblo Reservoir, where the water will be treated. Then, the 30-inch trunk line will deliver water to Avondale through Lamar via 39 delivery lines down the lower Arkansas Valley.

Only two communities in Pueblo County are participants of the Arkansas Valley Conduit. Above is a branch of the Arkansas River in Avondale, one of the participating communities, on Jan. 31, 2026. (Annie MacKeigan/The Water Desk)

Of the 39 participating communities on the Arkansas Valley Conduit, the majority reside in Otero County. Otero County Commissioners came together to ask for the president to rescind his recent veto of H.R. 131. “Providing clean drinking water is our priority as County Commissioners,” they said in a statement made in early February. “This water project is vital to our communities.”

Woodka estimates that the more than $400 million of federal funds and more than $4 million from the state will be enough to build delivery lines through Rocky Ford. “Nothing like it has been done before, 39 water systems into one pipeline,” said Woodka, who remains optimistic about the project’s future. 

“It’s at greater momentum than it has ever had right now.” 

This story is produced and distributed by The Water Desk at the University of Colorado’s Center for Environmental Journalism. 

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