Albuquerque, come see me talk “Ribbons of Green” at the Guild Sept. 25, 12:30 p.m.

My Utton Center posse is throwing a book launch party Friday (Sept. 25, 2026, 12:30 p.m.) at the Guild in Nob Hill.

When we were conjuring up a title over the summer, we came up with “A conversation about the past, present, and future of Albuquerque’s Rio Grande,” which seemed to offer me lots of space to riff.

I have come to understand, having done this a couple of times previously, that “book release season” involves weirdly shifting temporal sands. Bob Berrens and I worked on the book pretty intensely from the summer-fall of 2020 through a binge of writing in 2023. The next couple of years had new bursts of rewriting in response to some great peer review and editing feedback, a lot of polishing. But the ideas are very much in our rear view mirror. They loom large in the rear view mirror, but they’re behind us. We’re already thinking hard about the next one.

So that “and future” in the book talk title will be doing the heavy lifting Friday. Can an understanding of how we got here help us figure out where we go from here? We. Where we go from here.

I have thoughts. I hope you will bring yours too.

Making sense of the crazy outlier year of 2026

Bar chart of Rio Grande runoff at Otowi, NM, January–August total each year, 1896–2026, shown as departure from the long-term average of 846,000 acre-feet. Most years vary within a few hundred thousand acre-feet above or below average. 2026 is the lowest on record at 226,387 acre-feet, about 620,000 acre-feet below average. Two gaps in the gage record, 1906–1909 and 1915–1918, are marked as incomplete rather than shown as zero.

Driest Rio Grande flow on record

Updating my “drought and climate change” lecture each fall is a useful exercise – this year more useful than most. Much like the year itself, my slide deck is setting all time records for new data visualizations needed to make sense of the remarkable 2026.

Update

Great questions from the comments. (I love my commenters.) First, a request to include a smoother to make the trend more legible:

Rio Grande runoff at Otowi, Jan–Aug totals 1896–2026 vs. the long-term average, with a smoothed trend curve. The trend has declined since about 1990, reaching its lowest point in 2026 at 226,387 acre-feet — about 620,000 below the 846,000 AF average.

Now with bonus smoother.

Second, an observation that it looks like it tracks the Pacific Decadal Oscillation, a large scale pattern linked to drier conditions in the southwest. Good eye! A quick run of the numbers based on prior-year fall PDO shows a statistically significant but small (r squared explaining 6 – 9 percent of the variance) relationship.

Worth noting that this is all of the water flowing past Otowi, which is a function of climate and all the many human activities upstream (irrigation reducing flow, San Juan-Chama adding to flow). So it’s not solely a climate signal.

Weirdly, when I redid the analysis for the Del Norte gage, which is above the San Luis Valley diversions and should be a clearer climate-alone signal, the relationship disappears. No correlation at all with PDO, which surprised me.

Quoting Aristotle

Aristotle on the wisdom of Colorado River Compact litigation:

Now, it is of great moment that well-drawn laws should themselves define all the points they possibly can and leave as few as may be to the decision of the judges…. [L]aws are made after long consideration, whereas decisions in the courts are given at short notice, which makes it hard for those who try the case to satisfy the claims of justice and expediency.

Aristotle, Rhetoric

A river returns

My office mate and podcast hosting buddy Rin Tara had the good sense to pull out their phone and record some stuff while we were out at the Rio Grande Thursday, beneath the I40 bridge, waiting for the pulse flow to arrive. We had the good fortune to bump into Audubon’s Tucker Davidson when we were out there, who helped explain the role of a river as habitat, and we got to see the water arrive. We hope you enjoy the results as much as we enjoyed making this week’s episode of Water Matters. (I can’t emphasize enough how much fun we’re having with this podcast thing. Huge props to Francesca Glaspell who handles the behind-the-scenes magic, and the Utton Center for giving our podcast project and all the work we do a home.)

Visualizing the 2026 Albuquerque pulse flow

Chart tracking the Aug. 31–Sept. 7, 2026 Abiquiu release pulse downstream through six Rio Chama and Rio Grande gages. Flow above baseline increases sharply at Otowi, partly because of storm runoff, then declines from Cochiti through Albuquerque; the pulse reaches Central Avenue early Sept. 4.

Visualizing the pulse flow (click on the image to embiggen).

Hitting “reload” and keeping track of six open browser tabs was making my head hurt – this helped.

Back story here via Paul Tashjian, written as the pulse flow was getting underway:

As I write, action is underfoot to combine water from the Albuquerque-Bernalillo County Water Utility Authority, the Middle Rio Grande Conservancy District and Audubon for a release of water into our parched Rio Grande. The hope is to water the riverbed for four days through Albuquerque, soak the aquifer, and provide an “irrigation” to our stressed and dying bosque forest. At the same time, a robust monitoring program has been put in place to understand groundwater response, the seepage rate, characteristics of the watering, and the response of the trees themselves. This monitoring effort will provide invaluable insights to water managers about how we may solve problems of this nature in the future.

Wooden bats

Two baseball players behind a chain link fence - a batter leaning over and tapping the plate with his bat and a catcher crouched waiting for the pitch.

Wooden bats.

Turned into the Mount Calvary Cemetery heading home from my Sunday bike ride, stopped in the shade to cool off before heading up the hill, home. From across the street in Santa Barbara Park, I could hear the sound of a ballgame, chatter in a language that I understood even if it was not my own.

When I got back on the bike, I rolled over to check out the game.

They had serious uniforms, were playing with a smiling rhythm that was friendly, the chatter was friendly. As I sat for a minute, the only person in the stands, a guy walking around behind home plate to get some bottles of water from the opposing dugout asked me if I wanted to play.

The bats were made of wood.

A deep dive into the data on Lower Colorado River water use

Great new stuff from the Colorado River Wilburys – Jack Schmidt, Anne Castle, Eric Kuhn, Kathryn Sorensen, and Rin Tara*:

Reductions in Lower Basin water use during the last four years, including forecast use in 2026, are similar to the initial targets for Lower Basin shortages described in the Final Environmental Impact Statement for Post-2026 Operational Guidelines and Strategies for Lake Powell and Lake Mead (FEIS) and the accompanying Record of Decision (ROD).6 Lower Basin consumptive use in 2023, 2024, and 2025, and forecast for 2026 has been the smallest for the entire 2010-2026 period. These four years of smallest use are between 1.4 and 1.7 million acre feet/year (maf/yr) less than the 7.50 maf/yr amount
generally recognized as the Lower Basin’s mainstem allocation.

Reductions in Lower Basin use have been achieved by large reductions implemented by Central Arizona Project (CAP) contractors and subcontractors, the Imperial Irrigation District (IID), and non-CAP water users in Arizona. The reductions in use in the IID have been in summer water use and have not affected consumptive use in winter when garden crops, such as lettuce, onions, carrots, and broccoli, are grown.

The full paper: The Colorado River Water Supply Crisis in a Few Graphs: Part 2 Agricultural Water Use in the Lower Basin

* (I’m still on Colorado River sabbatical, so not an active contributor to the latest Wilburys projects, but they still let me wear the hat.)

Chasing the water

Map of New Mexico showing release of water from Abiquiu Dam on the Rio Chama Aug. 31, 2026, heading toward Albuquerque down the Rio Chama and rio Grande

“Game on!” as a friend texted yesterday afternoon.

At 2 p.m. Monday (Aug 31, 2026) the Albuquerque Bernalillo County Water Utility Authority, along with the Middle Rio Grande Conservancy District and Audubon Southwest, began releasing a pulse of water from Abiquiu Reservoir on the Rio Chama in Northern New Mexico as an experiment – what might a several day pulse of water do to help the aridification-starved riverside forests along New Mexico’s Middle Rio Grande?

Here’s Bernalillo County Commissioner Barbara Baca, chair of the ABCWUA board:

This one-time release will allow us to gather important data about how water flows through the river following a period of extended dryness, the relationship between the river and groundwater, and the effect of such a water release on plants and trees. It’s also our hope that this will aid vegetation and wildlife affected by the ongoing drought.

As I and others have written previously, we’re seeing extraordinary stress on the riverside trees, the ribbons of green that flank the Rio Grande through New Mexico’s largest city.

The tradeoffs that we talk about every fall semester in the water resources class I teach, tradeoffs among competing and conflicting values, are becoming real. The motivating question I’ve used in my writing on water since my old newspaper days was to ask, as pointedly as I could, “When supplies run sort, who actually doesn’t get water?”

Two answers have become increasingly obvious in recent years along the Middle Rio Grande. What we’ve come to call the “accordion” of irrigated agriculture is squeezing, as pastures and fields without the super-senior water rights that apply to some of the irrigated lands of New Mexico’s Middle Rio Grande (or a supplemental well) go dry.

“The environment” is the other.

The question has never been “What do we say we value?”, but rather “What do we value enough to give up water in some other place?” This is about tradeoffs. More water in one place – an irrigated field or the river channel itself – necessarily means less water in some other place. My “what do we value enough to give up water” formulation shifts this from a question of what we say we value to what we actually value enough to give up water to preserve?

Behind the scenes for the last couple of weeks there has been an extraordinary effort underway to scrounge up some water currently in storage upstream for other purposes, and to rapidly put in place the tools to monitor the results. Nobody’s quite sure how much water will get how far into the bone dry Albuquerque reach of the river, how far downstream the pulse will make it, what the results might be for the riverside forest.

For my whole professional life, long before I shifted from newspapers to writing books, I had a joke when something remarkable happened: “That’ll be great material for my book!” This is that.

Sun’s almost up, I’m off to chase the water.

The science of tree diebacks in drought

Of possible relevance to the current bosque dieback in New Mexico’s Middle Rio Grande? From PNAS:

Predicting forest resilience requires knowing whether trees can physiologically acclimate to drought. Drawing on global in-situ field experiments, we find a pervasive lack of functional adjustment in forest trees. Trees maintain stable hydraulic and photosynthetic capacities, enabling maximum carbon assimilation during favorable periods following rainfall. Nonstructural carbohydrate storage is also sustained. However, this physiological stability leads to a significant narrowing of hydraulic safety margins, indicating greater risk of tree mortality from hydraulic failure.

X. Liang, N.G. McDowell, D. Wang, B. Cui, J. Chen, K. Qiu, J. Luan, Z. Fan, X. Tan, X. Zhou, Q. Song, Z. Chen, Y. Jin, C. Liu, Y. Wang, Z. Li, H. Liu, Q. Liu, P. He, C. Yang, B. Liu, M. Deng, Y. Miu, X. Tan, X. Lu, J. Yan, W. Li, S. Liu, & Q. Ye, Declining hydraulic safety in a drier world, Proc. Natl. Acad. Sci. U.S.A. 123 (35) e2622754123, https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.2622754123 (2026).

temperature 3.91 standard deviations above normal

Histograms showing Albuquerque temperatures far outside normal distribution for 2026

An unusual year.

 

It was 96F (35.5C) when I rode my bike home after class at 6:15 p.m. last night.

“3.91 standard deviations above the long term record” is not terribly intuitive to me, the graphs above helped me visualize how extraordinarily unusual 2026 has been in Albuquerque. By all three normal measures – daily maximum, mean, and minimum – this year has been 2.5F (1.4C) warmer than the previous warmest years on record.

Top three panels are full year to date, bottom three panels are June 1 to date.