Or, in specific, Glen Canyon Dam reality. (My Photoshopped version of the dam, above.)
High Country News, actually getting back to its roots in some ways, has a good piece on the dam, the Colorado River, and the status of a new Colorado River Compact. Here's the latest:
Indeed, a state of crisis has been building on the Colorado for decades, even as the parties that claim its water argue over how to divide its rapidly diminishing flows. Lately, things have entered a new and perilous phase. Last Nov. 11 was a long-awaited deadline: Either the states involved — California, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, New Mexico, Colorado and Wyoming — would have to agree on a new management plan, or else the federal government would impose its own, something none of the parties would welcome. Meanwhile, the 30 tribes that also hold claims to the river have historically been and continue to be excluded from these negotiations.
That deadline came and went, and instead of acting, the government punted, this time to Feb. 14. Nobody was surprised: Unmet deadlines and empty ultimatums have been business as usual on the river for years. Decades of falling reservoir levels and clear warnings from scientists about global warming and drought have prompted much hand-wringing and some temporary conservation measures, but little in the way of permanent change in how water is used in the Colorado River Basin.
That deadline is, of course, just a couple of days ahead now passed. I semi-guarantee you won't lose any money if you bet that the seven states of the Colorado River Basin do nothing by then and the feds kick the deadline down the road. (Shock me that the lower basin states want more concessions from the upper basin. That said, contra John Fleck, the current basins division is itself part of the problem.)
After all, in the Biden Administration, BuRec did a head fake about doing anything serious. (There was semi-serious stuff around the edges, and that was that, but it motivated the states to do nothing.)
In response, Interior says it will move forward with new operating guidelines. Well, those are guidelines, no more, and per Interior head Doug Burgum and his department's press release, they're kicking the can down the road just like Team Biden. (Per the second of the two links above, Biden's DOI jumped over BuRec to pontificate and do nothing.)
“Negotiation efforts have been productive; we have listened to every state’s perspective and have narrowed the discussion by identifying key elements and issues necessary for an agreement. We believe that a fair compromise with shared responsibility remains within reach,” said Secretary of the Interior Doug Burgum. “I want to thank the governors of the seven Basin States for their constructive engagement and commitment to collaboration. We remain dedicated to working with them and their representatives to identify shared solutions and reduce litigation risk. Additionally, we will continue consultations with Tribal Nations and coordinate with Mexico to ensure we are prepared for Water Year 2027.”
Let's unpack that sack of shit.
Bottom first.
"Consultations" with tribal nations mean they'll keep getting screwed, especially in Aridzona.
The stuff within the top half of the quote? Nah, not within reach, not without an actual hammer, which Burgum will use no more than Biden's BuRec head, Camille Touton. (As is the case in many departments, Trump has a nominee, Ted Cooke, but no actual commissioner.)
The stuff before "tribal nations"? BS boilerplate.
That said, as HCN goes on to note, part of the problem is Glen Canyon Dam itself:
The 710-foot-tall dam was designed for a Goldilocks world in which water levels would never be too high or too low, despite the well-known fact that the Colorado is by far the most variable river in North America, prone to prodigious floods and extended droughts. But the Bureau, bursting with Cold War confidence — or hubris — chose to downplay the threat. In the record-breaking El Niño winter of 1983, the Bureau almost lost the dam to overtopping, due to both its mismanagement and its design, because the dam lacks sufficient spillway capacity for big floods. Only sheets of plywood installed across its top and cooler temperatures that slowed the melting of that year’s snowpack saved Glen Canyon Dam.
And yes, it was serious.
Marc Reisner opened his magisterial "Cadillac Desert" with that scene, going into much more detail than HCN's story.
Of course, Glen Canyon Dam was itself built on a lie, a lie that's inside the visitors' center:
Oops!
For those who haven't lived out there, there is no good farm land above the surface of Lake Powell, so no irrigation in the immediate area. There are no towns of more than 10,000 in the immediate area, though Utah, pursuing the cancerous idea of growth for growth's sake, continues to talk about pumping water for municipal needs some 250 miles west to St. George.
It has not improved water quality, and has killed fish below the dam.
As for that infrastructure? HCN goes on to note that, already in 2023, it has come close to "minimum power pool."
If Hoover Dam gets that close, the theoretical solution is to open the penstocks at Glen Canyon Dam. For Glen Canyon Dam, Flaming Gorge is further away with less water. There's not much on the main stem of the Colorado, and dams above Black Canyon of the Gunnison would help even less.
The story notes that is actually above the generators' intake level but that, due to the force of water flow, getting down to that mark would cause cavitation in the dam's penstocks. Some of that happened in 1983 because water had to be released from the dam so fast, and with such a head weight due to the lake being full, that the water pressure caused small boulder size cavitation, if I recall correctly.
HCN's Wade Graham notes the dam has two additional outlets, called river outlet works. But, they're not designed for extended use, and can deteriorate when water levels are low. (I can't recall if they were used in addition to the regular penstocks in 1983.)
That water level is what is known to those of us in the know as "dead pool." But, as Graham notes, that's still 240 feet above the base of the dam. That's 240 feet of fetid, stagnant, algae- and mosquito-breeding water.
Graham notes that old BuRec head Floyd Dominy, subject of John McPhee's "Encounters with the Archdruid," talked long ago about drilling into the sandstone around the dam with emergency outlet valves.
That's interesting. But, knowing the nature of that sandstone, also discussed by Reisner, if those valves aren't concrete lined, that water migrates. Does any of it "gnaw away" at the base of the dam?
And, the author's explainer on that:
In 1997, the former commissioner sketched on a cocktail napkin how new bypass tunnels could be drilled through the soft sandstone around the dam and outfitted with waterproof valves to control the flow of water and sediment. What it prescribes is treating the patient — the Colorado River, now on life support — with open-heart surgery, a full bypass. Dominy’s napkin, which he signed and gave to my colleague Richard Ingebretsen, the founder of Glen Canyon Institute, is effectively a blueprint for a healthier future for the Colorado River and the people and ecosystems that depend on it.
Needs a caveat.
It would be healthier than dead pool, but not healthier than much other options. Like not building the damned thing. Or else blowing it out.
(I'm with the Monkey Wrench Gang!)
To add to the concern, the Upper Colorado Basin Snowpack index is horribly low. It's far and away the worst in the past decade and well below the 30-year average. Now, as 2023 shows on that graph, sometimes, middle and late spring snow will bail things out. But, one shouldn't hang their hat on that, and even before the big surge, 2023 was well ahead of this year.
And, the big concern for the long term? The US Southwest is likely to remain in drought for the rest of the century.
