Stressed like never before, Utah’s water infrastructure faces a flood of existential questions
By: Derek P. Jensen
Peruse the U.S. Drought Monitor map and you can be forgiven for picturing a crime scene out West. Dark crimson splotches, signifying “Exceptional Drought” bleed across most of Utah. The few slivers a shade lighter represent the still-ominous extreme level.
Indeed, Utah is gripped by its worst drought since the mid-1950s, while 60 percent of western states are experiencing an unprecedented exceptional — the worst kind — or extreme drought.
The state has catapulted its conservation tips for more sober drought do’s and don’ts, a drought FAQ page and a weekly lawn watering guide.
Some cities have restricted lawn watering on back-to-back days while others are about to plug the spigots five days a week. Drought shaming sprays spastically like a busted sprinkler head across social media. Farmers, unable to irrigate, are cutting out crops and ferrying sheep over state lines for feed to keep them alive. And a suddenly oversaturated cattle market is forcing ranchers to take a loss on revenue, livestock, or both.
While the Utah Legislature recently earmarked $280 million of the $1.5 billion surplus toward water projects, none of that will be felt this summer. Meantime, the state’s climatologist says long-term weather models predict yet another drought next summer. The crisis prompted Gov. Spencer Cox, who says Utah has been a leader for decades in cloud seeding, to look even higher. Last week he called on Utahns to collectively seek divine intervention over the weekend by praying for rain.
Critiques, Conservation and a Lack of Consensus
If the blood-red Drought Monitor Map were an autopsy, the cause would still be inconclusive. State scientists point to climate change. Government leaders remain dismissive, pivoting to water-wise programs and a call for “survival watering” to lower consumption. And environmental critics argue it was premeditated — that Utah politicians employ lobbyists to keep water cheap, disincentivizing conservation. The only thing they agree on is the severity of the current situation.
“I’ve been doing water for 35 years and this is the worst drought of my career,” says Tage Flint, General Manager and CEO of the Weber Basin Water Conservancy District. The drought has raised the stakes on the normal ethic of how we use water, he says, requiring a reaction that’s proportionate. As such, Weber Basin customers will see a 20 percent cut in secondary water for irrigation this year and residents will be restricted from watering more than two days per week.
“That has to be the shock absorber for drought,” Flint says, “because we can’t jeopardize our drinking water.”
Utah’s water infrastructure is managed by four water conservancy districts spread out geographically from the Weber Basin and Jordan Valley to the Central Utah and Washington County conservancy districts. Established in 2019, there are also conservation goals for the state’s nine regions, divided by clusters of counties but also river basins.
The geographical complexity and rural/urban divide make it difficult — or easy depending on where you live — to point fingers regarding water waste. While roughly 85 percent of the state’s water resources are used for agriculture, 60 percent of residential water use is essentially for watering lawns. A single lawn watering uses up 3,000 gallons, according to Kim Wells, Public Information Officer at the Utah Division of Water Resources.
“We are the fastest growing state in the country, so being wise with our water use is critical,” Wells says. “You just turn on the tap and it comes out. We really don’t appreciate how precious it is.”
Maybe until now. Wells notes snow levels peaked early last winter at 81 percent of average, wringing runoff to a trickle. Soil moisture levels are the lowest on record. Stream flow forecasts range from a paltry nine percent to 69 percent of average.
What’s more, the state’s reservoir capacity is teetering at 66 percent capacity — down 23 percent from last year, according to Todd Adams, Director of the Utah Division of Water Resources. Some reservoirs and watersheds didn’t see a drop of spring runoff.
“In my career, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen that,” Adams says.
Across northern Utah “the rivers never rose,” laments Flint, saying the cascading effect has been frustrating. “We do expect landscapes to be stressed.”
Incentives, Rebates and ‘Flipping Your Strip’
Officials at the water districts say more people than ever are capitalizing on water-wise rebate programs and even online classes for conservation. Could we credit, gulp, Californians, who along with other newcomers leading the diaspora to Zion, are more water savvy?
In a word: yes, says Zach Frankel, Executive Director of the Utah Rivers Council. “I’ve never before seen more interest in water conservation in Utah,” Frankel says, noting the remaining ignorance on the issue is perpetuated by politicians with a self-interest. “Utah’s growth is partly from people used to sustainable water use, such as California, Arizona and the northwest — but especially Californians more conscious about water waste.”
For years, Utah’s water authorities have danced delicately between restrictions and incentives. Municipalities and local entities make most of the calls on limiting usage. Water districts and state divisions offer incentives, programs and rebates. Even so, critics argue that while Arizona, Nevada and Colorado have implemented water restrictions for decades, Utah has instead adopted a non-mandatory campaign called “Slow the Flow.”
“The public help is critical to stretch the water supply,” Wells says. “It’s part of the paradigm shift for the state of Utah: that water-wise landscaping can be very beautiful.”
Glaring in red atop the state’s new Weekly Lawn Watering Guide, officials call on residents to ditch lush landscapes to instead save high-value plants like trees and shrubs. “Grass is resilient and can survive with as little as 1” of water a month,” the guide reads. “It won’t be green and will enter dormancy during times of drought and high temperatures but will recover when conditions improve.”
Back in March, Gov. Cox issued a drought declaration and has also declared a state of emergency. Salt Lake City entered a “Stage 2” water shortage for the first time since 2004. The capital’s creeks, prized for supplying snowmelt runoff to more than 360,000 water customers, have topped out at 22 to 52 percent of average. Lehi City was one of the first to pare down watering, prompting some grumbling but also praise.
“Now would be a great time to reconsider lawn in favor of xeriscape or better yet, foodscape!” Stan Rasmussen wrote on the city’s Facebook page.
Water districts continue to push rebates for wi-fi-enabled smart controllers and low-flow toilets, along with irrigation workshops and classes on “localscapes.” For years, Jordan Valley has offered incentives for a “Flip Your Strip” program, referring to residential park strips that only see foot traffic when they’re mowed.
Taken together, the water-wise incentives still have little application for tax-exempt public schools, churches and universities that suck significant water supply to keep their vast properties verdant.
Ben Horsley, Director of Communications at Granite School District, says their water systems have all been automated in the past five to 10 years — some with rain sensors — but that attaining true efficiency remains a challenge. “We are upgrading as fast as we can,” Horsley says, “but it continues to remain a funding problem.”
Could Utah Farmers be ‘On The Menu’?
Stopping to refuel his tedder Friday while working the hay field, longtime Utah water executive Mike Styler talked plainly about drought and all it means for rural Utah.
“Here on the farm, when we run out of water, we just stop irrigating — that’s the only choice you have,” says Styler, who retired last year after serving as Executive Director of the Utah Dept. of Natural Resources and as Chair of the Utah Water Task Force. “Farmers understand that and live with it.”
During these extreme shortages, Styler says farmers will pick a crop and irrigate it, or only irrigate 60 acres instead of 100, before the water dries up. Water is finite both because the reservoirs are down and because underground water levels are simultaneously dropping statewide. Styler called on the state engineer to make users cut down on underground water use to stabilize the aquifers. In the Enterprise area, officials instituted a plan to voluntarily cut back but the impact will take years.
Over in Mount Pleasant in Sanpete County, sheep rancher and new Utah GOP Chair Carson Jorgensen says not only was this year’s runoff nonexistent, but 70 percent of the water farmers own goes down stream because there is nowhere to store it.
“The state of Utah doesn’t have a water issue,” he says, “we have a water storage issue. There’s a lot of money sitting around in state coffers from the COVID pandemic. The governor and the Legislature need to take a hard look. If I were them, I’d pour all of it into water infrastructure.”
The drought and lack of storage has forced ranchers to pay farmers to let sheep graze on their land rather than paying for alfalfa, Jorgensen says. In other cases, he’s seen guys truck their sheep to Wyoming and Colorado to find food.
Cattle ranchers would typically sell a lot of livestock in a drought, Styler notes, but the prices are down because the market has been flooded by cattle who have no feed. Ranchers now have to restrict their cattle and sheep from the ranges and buy them feed at inflated prices instead.
In addition, wildlife resources officials are selling more antlerless cow tags to thin at-risk deer and elk herds. Fish harvesting limits are being raised across Utah’s waterways to protect fish from dying in low water levels. And the Bureau of Land Management is recruiting emergency horse gatherers because there’s not enough feed or water for the state’s wild horses. “It’s just brown — there’s no green there,” Styler says. “If their water hole dries up, they’re in trouble.”
The rural Utah water crisis would be difficult enough if not for the swelling population across the Wasatch Front and Washington County. Both Styler and Jorgensen agree that it’s only a matter of time before subdivisions buy out the water, pouring it into planned developments instead of alfalfa fields.
“At some point, the cities are going to require more water than they actually own,” Jorgensen predicts. “They will have to go to the famers…and it will end the farmers livelihood.”
Worse still, Jorgensen says there is no failsafe when the water table starts to decline — especially as more and more wells are drilled, not just for irrigation but culinary use. “As we grow these cities,” he adds, “water storage is going to be a massive issue. We can only tap into the aquifer so long before there’s nothing there.”
As fall lasts longer and spring comes earlier, the lack of snowpack is the problem bedeviling both sides of the urban/rural divide. Frankel, with the Utah Rivers Council, calls climate the systemic change that is the hallmark of the 21st century. “I’d love to say we’re at the bottom,” Frankel says, “but the scientists says we’re about halfway there.”
“What the water districts aren’t telling the farmers is they are on the menu,” he adds. “The water reckoning that is coming to Utah is going to be catastrophic. The farmers will be pitted against the cities and the cities will win.”
The irony, Jorgensen says, is that farming and ranching still make roughly 20 percent of state’s GDP. “That’s a huge number,” he says. “A year ago, when I saw that number, it was more than tech was bringing in.”
Water: It’s Always About the Money
Rural and urban water experts agree that as bleak as our water forecast seems, we’re still better off than Las Vegas, which gets 90 percent of its water from the heavily regulated Colorado River. Utah gets some supply from the Colorado — the river is an indispensible water resource for 40 million people in seven states — but the bulk of the Beehive State’s water sources gravity feed from the Wasatch Front.
Storage is therefore critical across northern Utah, which relies heavily on major reservoirs including Pineview, Rockport, Echo, Deer Creek and Jordanelle. “Water storage is everything,” says Flint, the Weber Basin CEO.
When drought reaches the “exceptional” level, a committee comprised of experts in various sectors advise state leaders. The Division of Emergency Management works with the Department of Natural Resources, informing the restrictions implemented at local levels. But would the Legislature call a special session, as some advocate?
Frankel says lobbyists representing the water districts have successfully fought to fund the Lake Powell pipeline and Bear River Development — all the while using “Slow the Flow” conservation campaigns — “to greenwash the public to cover their tracks at the statehouse.”
A big part of Utah’s public marketing push urges residents to avoid watering between 10 and 6 or when windy, to landscape park strips, and to raise their lawn mower blades.
Frankel remains hopeful that drought shaming and a newly constituted grassroots can put pressure on policy leaders but worries once there’s a couple wet cycles, people will lose focus. “If the price of water doubles or triples,” he says, “people are going to lose interest in using water for landscaping.”
For his part, Cox writes on Twitter that “conservation MUST be a bigger emphasis for Utah,” adding that almost every water district has implemented water restrictions or will shortly.
“Unfortunately it got lost in other dumb debates, but the legislature just set aside $280M for water projects, including $100M for conservation! That is HUGE.”
The governor goes on to say a bold, long-term water vision and plan is coming for Utah, including an improvement to Utah Lake and preservation of the Great Salt Lake. “Stay tuned for much more in the months to come,” Cox tweeted over the weekend.
Cox was disappointed that his plea to pray for rain, which made national headlines, was met on social media with what he called “vitriol and contempt.” Others joked “it worked,” referring to some brief rainfall late Saturday.
Jorgensen, the new GOP chair, said farmers are God-fearing people and he, for one, loved it.
“I don’t really think we have another choice at this point.”
