Just four hundred years from the time the first white man sailed into its mouth, the wildest and most violently beautiful river in the world had been broken to the needs of man.
Man at last has conquered the land. But to what ultimate end no one can say. There is only a vague, inquiet feeling that in all his scheme of domination there is something he might have forgotten. It may well be that the river itself will have the last word, after all. –Frank Waters: The Colorado
Today our journey took us through the Owens Valley of California. A gorgeous drive, but eerily similar to the drive we make to the town of San Felipe on the Baja of Mexico.
The drive from the border town of Mexicali, Mexico to San Felipe is approximately 160 miles long. There is a stretch that starts about 40 miles south of the city of Mexicali and extends almost until you reach the town of San Felipe that is spectacular in its utter scarcity of anything except sand and rock.
What's left of the Colorado Delta
On the right side of Highway 5, tall chocolate lava-looking mountains stretch out as far as the eye can see. On the left, is an occasional tiny village scattered here and there in the middle of a vast plain that resembles a moonscape. What’s so unique about this inhospitable sight is that there are also old boats and piers scattered here and there in the villages. Until I read, “Searching for the Headwaters,” and, “Cadillac Desert,” Lisbeth and I thought that perhaps we were seeing this area at low tide. After all, this part of the Sea of Cortez does boast one of the widest tidal swings in the world. We found that we were half right and half wrong. What we were experiencing here was the effect of our (United States) dams on the Colorado River.
The Road to San Felipe with View of Colorado Delta Area
This area where we drive down to San Felipe used to be the Colorado River Delta. It was more than 150 miles long and 100 miles across. Much of it had been tidal plain, covered intermittently with sea water. In the 1800’s there was even sufficient enough river channel here to support a steamship operation until a railroad line from the outlying trading camps came in upstream into Yuma. The Colorado River meandered here though what was called, “the green lagoons.” As late as the 1920’s, the place was rich with wildlife: geese, quail, doves, egrets, bobcats, raccoons, and deer. Then, seven states and Mexico began to bleed the Colorado dry. Today, there is no trace of a lush delta. There are no signs of wildlife. The Delta was dubbed by Philip Fradkin as, “the most inhospitable terrain on the North American continent.” Today, the Colorado River barely trickles into the Sea of Cortez. The impact this has had on the Sea would take up more space than I have allotted.
So, here we are driving down through the Owens Valley on route 395. Miles and miles of mountains to the right and, miles and miles of an all but dried up lake bed to our left. Periodically the highway cut through a few close-to-being ghost towns with populations of less than 100. It felt all too familiar.
Arial view of Owens Lake and Valley
Before it was diverted to satisfy the insatiable thirst of the Los Angeles area, the Owens River ran into the Owens Lake. The Owens Lake extended up to 12 miles in length and 8 miles wide and covered and area of up to 100 plus square miles. It had an average depth of 23 to 50 feet and sometimes would overflow south into the Mojave Desert.
For thousands of years, Owens Lake was one of the most important stopover sites for migrating waterfowl and shorebirds in the western United States. During the mid 1800 the white man began to encroach upon the Valley and started using the northern part of the lake for irrigation of crops. The irrigation systems created by the ditch companies did not have adequate drainage and as a result oversaturated the soil to the point where crops could not be raised. Many turned to raising livestock. Starting in 1913, the river and streams that fed Owens Lake were diverted by the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power (LADWP) into the Los Angeles Aqueduct, and the lake level started to drop quickly. By 1924 the lake was dry.
The Remains of Owens Lake
Today, the lake is a large salt flat whose surface is made of a mixture of clay, sand and a variety of minerals. In wet years, these minerals form a chemical soup in the form of a small brine pond within the dry lake. When conditions are right, bright pink halophilic (salt-loving) archaea spread across the salty lakebed. Also, on especially hot summer days when ground temperatures exceed 150° F water is driven out of the hydrates on the lakebed creating muddy brine. More commonly, periodic winds stir up noxious alkali dust storms that carry away as much as four million tons of dust from the lakebed each year, causing respiratory problems in nearby residents.
As we continue to explore this continent, we can’t help but wonder, at what point do we understand and begin to deal with the excesses and problems caused by so many misguided water policies in the United States? Water is not limitless. We have seen far too many examples of how it really will cease to exist.
© 2011, wandercrones. All rights reserved.
Water, Water Everywhere…Not
Just four hundred years from the time the first white man sailed into its mouth, the wildest and most violently beautiful river in the world had been broken to the needs of man.
Man at last has conquered the land. But to what ultimate end no one can say. There is only a vague, inquiet feeling that in all his scheme of domination there is something he might have forgotten. It may well be that the river itself will have the last word, after all. –Frank Waters: The Colorado
Today our journey took us through the Owens Valley of California. A gorgeous drive, but eerily similar to the drive we make to the town of San Felipe on the Baja of Mexico.
The drive from the border town of Mexicali, Mexico to San Felipe is approximately 160 miles long. There is a stretch that starts about 40 miles south of the city of Mexicali and extends almost until you reach the town of San Felipe that is spectacular in its utter scarcity of anything except sand and rock.
What's left of the Colorado Delta
On the right side of Highway 5, tall chocolate lava-looking mountains stretch out as far as the eye can see. On the left, is an occasional tiny village scattered here and there in the middle of a vast plain that resembles a moonscape. What’s so unique about this inhospitable sight is that there are also old boats and piers scattered here and there in the villages. Until I read, “Searching for the Headwaters,” and, “Cadillac Desert,” Lisbeth and I thought that perhaps we were seeing this area at low tide. After all, this part of the Sea of Cortez does boast one of the widest tidal swings in the world. We found that we were half right and half wrong. What we were experiencing here was the effect of our (United States) dams on the Colorado River.
The Road to San Felipe with View of Colorado Delta Area
This area where we drive down to San Felipe used to be the Colorado River Delta. It was more than 150 miles long and 100 miles across. Much of it had been tidal plain, covered intermittently with sea water. In the 1800’s there was even sufficient enough river channel here to support a steamship operation until a railroad line from the outlying trading camps came in upstream into Yuma. The Colorado River meandered here though what was called, “the green lagoons.” As late as the 1920’s, the place was rich with wildlife: geese, quail, doves, egrets, bobcats, raccoons, and deer. Then, seven states and Mexico began to bleed the Colorado dry. Today, there is no trace of a lush delta. There are no signs of wildlife. The Delta was dubbed by Philip Fradkin as, “the most inhospitable terrain on the North American continent.” Today, the Colorado River barely trickles into the Sea of Cortez. The impact this has had on the Sea would take up more space than I have allotted.
So, here we are driving down through the Owens Valley on route 395. Miles and miles of mountains to the right and, miles and miles of an all but dried up lake bed to our left. Periodically the highway cut through a few close-to-being ghost towns with populations of less than 100. It felt all too familiar.
Arial view of Owens Lake and Valley
Before it was diverted to satisfy the insatiable thirst of the Los Angeles area, the Owens River ran into the Owens Lake. The Owens Lake extended up to 12 miles in length and 8 miles wide and covered and area of up to 100 plus square miles. It had an average depth of 23 to 50 feet and sometimes would overflow south into the Mojave Desert.
For thousands of years, Owens Lake was one of the most important stopover sites for migrating waterfowl and shorebirds in the western United States. During the mid 1800 the white man began to encroach upon the Valley and started using the northern part of the lake for irrigation of crops. The irrigation systems created by the ditch companies did not have adequate drainage and as a result oversaturated the soil to the point where crops could not be raised. Many turned to raising livestock. Starting in 1913, the river and streams that fed Owens Lake were diverted by the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power (LADWP) into the Los Angeles Aqueduct, and the lake level started to drop quickly. By 1924 the lake was dry.
The Remains of Owens Lake
Today, the lake is a large salt flat whose surface is made of a mixture of clay, sand and a variety of minerals. In wet years, these minerals form a chemical soup in the form of a small brine pond within the dry lake. When conditions are right, bright pink halophilic (salt-loving) archaea spread across the salty lakebed. Also, on especially hot summer days when ground temperatures exceed 150° F water is driven out of the hydrates on the lakebed creating muddy brine. More commonly, periodic winds stir up noxious alkali dust storms that carry away as much as four million tons of dust from the lakebed each year, causing respiratory problems in nearby residents.
As we continue to explore this continent, we can’t help but wonder, at what point do we understand and begin to deal with the excesses and problems caused by so many misguided water policies in the United States? Water is not limitless. We have seen far too many examples of how it really will cease to exist.
© 2011, wandercrones. All rights reserved.