It's hard to deny that Walker Lake in western Nevada lacks some of the majesty of Lake Tahoe. And, despite being part of the same prehistoric lake that long ago covered much of the western United States, Walker Lake just doesn't have the same aura of mystery that haunts Pyramid Lake. But Walker does have something in common with Tahoe and Pyramid: an assembly of citizens, environmentalists, and researchers concerned with its well-being. Among them is DRI's Dr. John Tracy. Tracy, along with DRI's Alan McKay and researchers from the University of Nevada, Reno's Department of Agricultural Economics, is conducting a preliminary investigation of the potential for water banking within the Walker River Basin.

Walker Lake is home to the Lahontan cutthroat trout and supports a substantial fishery. Anglers love the place, as do migrating waterfowl like loons, grebes, and pelicans. The lake is a primary recreational draw for the communities that surround it, and local legend even contends that Walker is home to a gigantic sea serpent with a penchant for marshmallows.

Regardless of the legend, there is another reason for concern: in the last 100 years, Walker Lake's surface elevation has dropped some 140 feet, increasing the concentration of natural salts and threatening the lake's fish, wildlife, and appeal as a recreation area. The lake's only source is the Walker River, and upstream agriculture is thriving along the river basin. As farmers use more water from the river, the lake gets less.

The agricultural economy is important: some of the highest quality alfalfa grown is produced in the Walker River Basin, and crops like onions and garlic are becoming increasingly common. Decreasing agricultural demands would obviously benefit the lake, but might also wipe out many local farmers--often the very same people who enjoy the lake's sandy shores and prime fishing. Clearly, the situation needs a balanced approach, one that keeps the important agricultural economy viable and the lake healthy as well.

Tracy thinks the solution should go beyond ordinary water conservation. "In western Nevada, agricultural users have learned to squeeze about as much water as they can out of their water systems. Technical measures like controlling evaporation or lining canals aren't enough on their own. At this point, if we want the system to remain viable for everyone, we need changes in the institutions and structures governing its use." He hopes that one of those changes will be water banking. Water banking, in this case, does not involve the actual physical containment of water, as in a reservoir. Instead, banking is a transfer mechanism that supporters hope will encourage those who hold water rights along the river to allow more water to reach Walker Lake. For example, assume a farmer could expect to gain a 20 percent water savings by lining his canals to prevent seepage. But lining his canals would cost money; and, since his water rights already entitle him to a set quantity of water, he has little reason to incur the additional expense. Water banking would create an economic incentive to line the canals and pull less water from the river. The result would be more water for Walker Lake.

While water banking is not new--variations on the concept operate in Texas, California, and Idaho--Tracy says the Walker River proposal would be unique because it is taking an economic approach to an environmental problem. "This is marketing of water, not for the benefit of the free market economy, but for a conservation effort."

Tracy's work with the Walker Lake study, and for other projects as well, centers on the creation of management tools--specifically computer models--for planning, decision making, and conflict resolution. Tracy's models give policy makers the chance to test different management scenarios before applying them to real situations. They incorporate hard scientific and economic data with graphic visual interfaces, and the mix can be tricky to get right. "The models have to be simple enough to be used by people who aren't scientists but sophisticated enough to give those people real answers."

And Tracy believes that real answers are what people need most from science. That is why he sees one of his most important career ambitions as the translation of technology and science into effective planning and management. "It's one of the great failures of science. Scientists study a problem until the solution is obvious. Planners see the solution and say, 'The people will never go for that.' There's a link missing between science and policy."

Tracy may be helping to forge that missing link for Walker Lake. If he can, some Nevada farmers and fishermen--and maybe even a sea serpent--will be most appreciative.

Jackie Allen