Tough Land, Tough Choices… Deciding the Fate of Walker Lake

A map of Nevada is, well, roomy . . . uncluttered, if you will. Here in Nevada, population centers are far-flung, major highways are sparse, and rivers and lakes are few. Precious few. Because, if you could read between those thin blue lines that represent Nevada’s waterways, you’d find hard-working folks in hard-to-tame places struggling to eke a living and a lifestyle out of the limited water resources of this driest, and fastest-growing, state in the union.

It’s the oldest of Western dilemmas—how to make too little water serve too many needs—and it has reached a critical point in west central Nevada’s Walker River Basin. Here, farmers, ranchers, sportsmen, Native Americans, and environmentalists are clashing over how to use what little water nature has to offer them. All sides have a lot at stake—a threatened species, a stable economy, a cultural heritage, a way of life—and in the end, difficult decisions will need to be made. Fortunately, DRI’s Dr. John Tracy and Dr. Saxon Sharpe have some expertise and technology that may help.

Sharpe and Tracy recently completed an Environmental Impact Statement (EIS)of the Walker River Basin analyzing the effects of a proposal to buy upstream water rights from willing sellers in order to bring more water to the teetering ecosystem of Walker Lake, at the river’s end. That same water could also aid the recovery of the threatened Lahontan cutthroat trout in the Walker River Basin and help address issues related to the United States’ water rights claims in the basin. The proposal is controversial, since more water for Walker Lake would mean less water for irrigation in agricultural communities upstream. Without the water, however, the current Walker Lake ecosystem will collapse, taking with it a large chunk of the economic base of communities nearer the lake. “This,” says Tracy, “evokes a lot of passion on both sides.” No surprise there.

During a series of public meetings and workshops held in communities throughout the area, Sharpe and Tracy attempted to get to the bottom of those strong feelings, pinpointing citizens’ most pressing concerns and using their input to develop potential strategies to help meet those concerns. “The process has been very much stakeholder-based,” says Sharpe, “with the issues determined by those involved.”

The findings were then incorporated into a computer model developed by Tracy to show how each possible course of action might be likely to play out in the real world. It’s a tool that will give all sides a chance to see a little more clearly into their possible futures and, perhaps, narrow the divide between opposing viewpoints.

The Walker River is divisive by nature. It’s actually two rivers initially, the East and West Walker rivers, springing from high elevation headwater streams in the eastern Sierra Nevada Mountains of California, and combining to form the main stem of the Walker River just south of Yerington, Nevada. Along its path, the Walker River system supplies several reservoirs, the largest being Bridgeport, Weber, and Topaz Lake, and sustains agriculture in Bridgeport, Antelope, Smith, and Mason Valleys and on the Walker River Paiute Reservation. Just south of the reservation, the river ends its journey by flowing into Walker Lake.

Or at least some of it does. . . in a good year. You see, the Walker River system is over-appropriated, meaning that even in a year with normal precipitation, where snowpack levels that feed the stream are at 100 percent, only 84 percent of the existing agricultural rights can be satisfied. In dry years, like the past three, even less can be satisfied, resulting not only in thirsty crops, but also a lake whose waters continually decline in both volume and quality.

Walker Lake is a remnant of ancient Lake Lahontan that, 12,000 years ago, covered more than 8,600 square miles of what is known today as the Great Basin. Walker Lake is five and one-half miles wide, 14 and one-half miles long, 120 feet deep, and disappearing fast. The lake’s level has dropped about 132 feet since 1908, when extensive agricultural diversions began, translating to a reduction in lake volume from about 8.6 million acre-feet to about 2.1 million acre-feet. A terminal lake, meaning it has no outflow, Walker Lake loses more water each year to evaporation than it receives in inflow, and this increases the concentration of naturally occurring salts—referred to as total dissolved solids or TDS. While the waters of Walker Lake have never been completely fresh, they do support a complex food web that includes microscopic algae, fish like the tui chub and Lahontan cutthroat trout, and a host of migratory waterfowl, including common loons, pelicans, grebes, and ducks. Rising TDS levels are threatening that system.

“From an ecosystem standpoint,” says Sharpe, “the lake is coming up on an ecologic threshold. Prior to 1880, before major irrigation diversions, TDS levels were something like 2,500 parts per million (ppm). Current TDS levels in the lake are about 13,000 ppm, and once you reach about 16,000 you risk killing off the cutthroat trout and chub and altering the food web.” Without increased flows to the lake, says Tracy, TDS level in the lake could go up to 35,000 ppm in 60 to 80 years. That is the TDS of seawater. “You’d revert to an ecosystem something like Mono Lake, with brine shrimp.”

That would spell disaster for businesses around Walker Lake that depend on summer boaters and fisherman to succeed—places like Ed’s Bait and Tackle in Hawthorne, Nevada where anglers stop for grub, gear, and guidance on their way to pulling nine- and 10-pound trout from the lake. “So much of the economy of Mineral County depends on tourism connected to Walker Lake. It’s already struggling and will only get worse as the lake does,” says Sharpe.

Analyses indicate that about 50,000 additional acre-feet of water per year need to reach Walker Lake in order to keep TDS at levels that will support the current ecosystem. Much of that water would likely come from the purchase of water rights upstream, but other strategies might be used to help reduce the amount of water rights needed. Cloud seeding, for instance, could increase flows at the head of the river by about 30,000 acre-feet in a normal precipitation year, and some of that would eventually reach Walker Lake. There’s an inherent limitation to the effectiveness of cloud seeding, however—you’ve got to have the right conditions to seed. In wet years, winter storms provide plenty of these, but the right conditions can be few and far between in drought years, when the extra precipitation is most urgently needed. Moving groundwater from stores elsewhere in the basin and directly into Walker Lake is another possibility, but this, too, has limitations, among them the high cost of pumping and transporting water and the distinct possibility that any available water would also be of poor quality.

In short, enhancement strategies might help, but they can’t do the whole job. Wherever the water comes from, says Tracy, it will have strings attached. “It’s obvious that this water will be good for the ecology of the stream and lake, but we’ve also got to consider the economy. This water will change a significant market sector—agriculture. It’s a difficult trade-off.”

Much of that difficulty rests on the shoulders of the some 200 farmers of Nevada’s Smith and Mason Valleys—and farmers in California’s Bridgeport and Antelope Valleys—upstream from the lake. These areas are among the richest and most valuable agricultural lands in the state, producing among other things, onions, garlic, and high-quality alfalfa. “There is some innovative farming going on here,” says Tracy. Take for example, Peri and Sons Farms where they’ve used satellite technology to increase the efficiency and productivity of their 1,200-acre onion operation—one of the nation’s largest.

But, large or small, none of these farmers take their livelihoods for granted, tied as they are to such a precious resource. Lyon County Commissioner David Fulstone II is a member of DRI’s Research Foundation, a leader in Nevada’s agricultural industry, and a man who calls the Walker River Basin home. Fulstone’s great-grandmother was born on the river in 1864, and he and his family have lived on, worked, and loved this land ever since. “Nevada is the driest state in the nation, so, of course, water is a huge issue for the industry, and the whole economy of the valley. If you take out half of the farmers by taking away their water, you’re also going to lose those businesses that sell them agricultural equipment, and so on.” And, he says, it’s not just people that might suffer. “Irrigated lands support their own flora and fauna. Pulling the water will put pressure on the upstream environment, too.”

Those formerly irrigated fields might have social implications as well, says Tracy, affecting the aesthetics and character of these bucolic communities. “People might choose this area for a retirement home because of the green fields, the rural atmosphere. How are those types of choices going to be affected if those fields turn back to sagebrush?”

These are the dilemmas, and the time is approaching for decisions. “It’s clear,” says Tracy, “that if nothing is done, agriculture is sustainable, but Walker Lake is not. If we can get more water to it, then Walker Lake is sustainable into the foreseeable future, and agriculture would survive as well, although at a decreased level.” Sharpe agrees that “there are no scenarios where everyone gets everything they want. People have to ask themselves what sacrifices they’re willing to make.”

In other words, it comes down to tough choices. And while Sharpe’s and Tracy’s work can’t provide an ultimate solution, it can provide reliable data and realistic alternatives—just the tools that decision-makers will need to help make those choices. Good information is valuable stuff, and, just like the water that supports life here in Nevada’s wide-open spaces, every little bit counts.

–Jackie Allen

Featured in this Issue: Promoting the General Welfare of the State of Nevada Tough Land, Tough Choices... Deciding the Fate of Walker Lake Jacobson Appointed DRI VPAA Truckee River: Dilution No Longer the Solution to Pollution DRI's Long History with a Short River ACES and Clusters Revving Up Environmental Research DRI's veteran atmospheric modeler anticipates new cluster capabilities Dr. John J. Warwick Appointed Executive Director of DRI's Hydrologic Sciences Division GreenPower: Readin', Writin', and Renewable Energy Grabasnjak Awarded Maxey Fellowship New Publications from DRI Scientists DRI Research Foundation Trustee Rudolf Gunnerman Wins Einstein Medal The 2002 DRI Golf Extravaganza raised over $60,000! Maki Fellowships Awarded to Rost and Meadows