Three inches of wet snow covered the ground at the Fall Creek Slide, the not-so-well-known boat launch located on a back channel, just upriver from the Spring Creek Landing on the South Fork of the Snake River. I swung my car into the vacant makeshift parking lot and excitedly slipped into my waders, tied on my favorite streamer (the “Sugar Mama”) and threw on my pack. Today was the kind of sunny December day that would have been gorgeous anywhere, but it was decidedly a little more gorgeous here in southeast Idaho. Raring to go, I slipped and slid down onto the dry riverbed. Only a few months back, I had floated this part of the river in my drift boat, picking apart its brushy banks with dry flies in search of trout. But today that was an impossibility; there was literally no water. The powers that be had dropped the river from its natural flow of 4,000 CFS (cubic feet per second) way down to a meager winter allotment of 900 CFS, effectively lowering water levels five to six feet, emptying channels and exposing massive areas of gravel and rock.
by John Sadusky – The battle for water rights is as old as the Western United States. And the fish keep paying for it.
As I hiked the riverbed toward the remaining flow, my mind began to wonder: How many thousands of dead bugs must be underneath these rocks that I was stepping on, killed by the lack of water and cold temperatures? Even worse, how many fish had met the same fate, stranded in the dried-up channels? I continued my ten-minute hike, and when I finally got to water, it didn’t look anything like what I had fished in the fall. The South Fork of the Snake is not a walk-and- wade river, but today it was—making it great for me, but not so much for the river’s inhabitants.
According to scientists, aquatic insects and the fish that rely on them for survival are disappearing all over the world. Unnatural water flows, particularly low flows, are a major contributor, as is pollution and an ever-changing climate. But as water levels continue to drop, and as the fight over what’sleft continues to escalate, the big question remains: How low can we go?
A brief history of water rights
Before any of these questions can be asked, it’s important to have an understanding of water rights history. As settlers moved into arid regions of the west, sharing and allocating water became an issue of importance. This was first accomplished by simple agreements between users, but as these areas became more developed and more pressure was put on the resource from the likes of mining and agriculture, more structured legal arrangements became necessary. The Doctrine of Prior Appropriation was developed in the late 19th century and became the rule of law when determiningwater rights between individuals for many western states. The doctrine’s premise “first in time, first in right,” states that the first person to divert water from a source for beneficial use has the priority right to that water over later users.
But as regions developed, the friction between users over water only intensified. The doctrine was too rigid in its application, some argued, leaving those who had secured rights with an overabundance while others were left wanting. Little opportunity to redistribute was provided in the doctrine rules once these rights were secured, unfortunately preventing cooperation among users. Also playing a significant role in the development of water rights were the western states themselves, each with their own set of laws and regulations created to benefit their own unique interests. Managing these rights has become increasingly more complicated with sprawling urbanization and with increased demands from industry and agriculture. Climate change is exasperating these demands as rising temperatures and extreme weather events have increased with severity. The duration of droughts has also gotten longer, and the timing of snow melts and river flows have consequently been altered.
The storied history of water rights in the west continues to unfold. But through it all, one constant has always remained: Water use priorities are for the benefit of humans, but only occasionally—and only when convenient—for its natural inhabitants.
So…who controls the water?
As in most states, the Bureau of Reclamation (BOR) in Idaho controls the timing and how much water is discharged from the dams, thus controlling water flows. According to BOR, it “must operate within the constraints of existing water rights, contractual obligations, and overall system water availability.” State agencies and water managers adhere to these obligations when determining the actual flows. These same processes hold true on the South Fork of the Snake River where I am fishing today. Here flows are recommended by the Committee of Nine, a group of people representingthe nine largest irrigation districts in the Snake Drainage, downstream of Palisades Dam in Idaho’s Water District One. The committee is overseen by the Idaho Department of Water Resources (IDWR), an agency responsible for regulating Idaho’s water rights. Both the Committee of Nine and the IDWR are appointed by the governor in an effort to improve water sharing in the state.
Unfortunately for the fish and aquatic insects who make the river their home, they are the last priority for these water managers. Brett High, Idaho Department of Fish and Game (IDFG) Fisheries Manager, describes the bleak pecking order: “BOR priorities are 1) flood control, 2) providing storagewater for water rights holders, 3) power generation, and 4) fisheries and other recreation needs,” says High. “When priorities one through three have been addressed, BOR gives water management consideration to number four(fisheries). The occasions for the stars to align to make this possible in a world with decreasing water availability is becoming less common.”
The production bottleneck
Predictably, unnaturally low water flows wreak havoc on a river’s inhabitants. For fish numbers to be healthy, they need water.
“We do know that low winter flows influence survival of trout, particularly those juvenile trout trying to make it through their first winter,” explains High. “This was a major finding in a recent study funded by BOR (Oldemeyer and Van Kirk 2018). Older trout are more immune to low flows, but we have seen negative impacts on age two and older trout when flow decreases lower than 900 CFS in the South Fork. However, total trout abundance is largely a function of how many juvenile trout make it through their first winter. Thus, low winter flows become the bottleneck for trout populations on the South Fork Snake River. Juvenile trout prefer side and off-channel habitat during winter. Low river flows limit the amount of this habitat type available for juvenile fish. Schrader and Griswold (1992) documented the relationship between discharge rates…In figure 9 of their report, you’ll notice that available habitat for native cutthroat trout increases substantially from 900 to 2,000 CFS…IDFG does annually recommend to BOR that 2000 CFS from December through February would have the most benefit for trout populations on the river.”
Unfortunately, the state and local water managers who dictate the flows don’t set a high priority on trout survival. And for BOR to give up more water, it must work within the legalities of these organizations. Marc Ayalin, BOR Public Affairs Specialist, points out their limitations: “We share the goal of supporting healthy fish populations where possible,” says Ayalin. “Reclamation must also operate within the constraints of existing water rights, contractual obligations, and overall system water availability.”
Translation: We see the benefit, but we can’t legally help.
The search for more water
Science has clearly shown proper water flows produce healthier fish populations. But with all the water spoken for, where can we find more for fish without interfering with the existing complicated water hierarchy? Brett High sees an opportunity. “The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers have flood control curves that BOR is mandated to manage water discharge…they were developed in the 1950’s when we had a much different climate. Essentially, BOR is required to send more water downstream in the spring than what is really required to control the potential for flooding…If flood control curves were updated, then there could be a scenario where more water could be released from December through February to benefit fish and still fill Palisades Reservoir in the following spring with storage water and mitigate flooding risks in normal years.”
It appears he is onto something, but it is easier said than done—especially in an era with staffing cuts and little appetite to fund a new study. More ideas like High’s will be needed in the future, not just with finding more water to restore healthy flows, but, just as importantly, with the rates in which the water is discharged.
Like the effects of low water flows, aggressive ramping rates—the amount and intensity in which dam discharge water is released—can also negatively influence fish and insect populations. Rob Van Kirk, Ph.D. Science and Technology Director for the Henry’s Fork Foundation, explains why: “(I) have little to no doubt that fish (and insects) would not be stranded in side channels if flow reduction at the end of irrigation season were done more gradually,” says Van Kirk. “Flows would decline naturally all summer from their snowmelt peak to winter base flows, allowing fish and insects plenty of time to avoid stranding and find suitable winter habitat.”
And, in fact, in recent years, BOR and IDFG have cooperated to improve ramping rates for the benefit of the river’s inhabitants. “I commend them for those efforts,” says High. “I think they have improved fishing on the river, especially during spring flow management.”
An impending water crisis
It’s now the end of April, and a full four months since I walked the back channel in search of fishable water at the Fall Creek Slide. I sip morning coffee and look out the window of my home in SE Idaho. My yard is brown. The fields surrounding my yard are brown. With the exception of only a few days, it’s been brown all winter. All the experts are just now waking up to what many of us in the west already knew: we are in the midst of a snow drought.
According to the National Integrated Drought Information System (NIDS), unseasonably warm temperatures and lack of precipitation has so far left the west with its worst snowpack in decades and with the worst snow cover since satellite records were kept in 2001. Many of these areas are already facing severe water shortages and can ill afford a dry winter.
NDIS (drought.gov) also reports that over the past century, surface water has decreased in much of the west. The flow of the Colorado River, for example, has decreased by approximately 20%, and climate models predict further reductions of up to 30% by mid-century due to rising temperatures and reduced snowpack in the Rocky Mountains, which feed the river (Udall & Overpeck, 2017; Milly & Dunne, 2020; Whitney et al., 2023). Water levels in Lake Powell, one of the main storage reservoirs for the Colorado River Basin, could fall low enough to stop hydropower generation by December 2026.
Increased demands on dwindling surface water have consequently forced the rapid extraction of water from underground. Demands for these extractions are depleting groundwater storage supplies at a rate unsustainable (Famiglietti 2014). Scientists are concerned that officials are not giving this issue nearly enough attention when planning for future water management.
The Colorado River Basin is not the only area facing drought concerns. Parts of Utah, Washington, and here in Idaho are also very dry. According to the NDIS, many key headwaters need above-average precipitation, in some cases over multiple years, to bring water supplies back to sustainable levels.
“First in time, first in right?”
Scientists widely agree that the west is facing a future with less water. The snow drought this winter has further exacerbated this issue, creating unwelcome news for water managers, farmers, municipalities, and the industries who rely on water for their livelihoods. But if history repeats itself, the weight of this bad news will fall most heavily upon its silent users: its natural inhabitants. Once again, they will draw the short straw, be the first to have to make concessions, and to learn to live with less water.
Long before any western field was cut, any tree was chopped, or any gold was discovered, the fish were using this water. They were its first inhabitants, its first user, and indeed its original stakeholder. “First in time, first in right”—seems to me the fish had first dibs. Perhaps it’s time we find them a little more water, or at the very least, a good lawyer.
