Photo: Nevada, how most of it really looks.
I hear that the State of Nevada is suing the federal government over access to Colorado River water.
If you look at the map of Nevada, and photos of Nevada, you can easily determine that it’s a land-locked desert with a few big casinos and hotels.
Nevada wants us to think Nevada looks like this:
It doesn’t. Don’t be fooled. It’s actually a big, mostly uninhabited desert.
I’ve had to drive through Nevada on occasion, and I can attest to the fact that there’s nothing there, except for Las Vegas. Just sand and rocks and yucca plants.
How are they even hoping to have water? Next they will be expecting ocean-front property. Sorry, not going to happen.
Nevertheless, if we can believe the Lamestream Media, Nevada has filed the first lawsuit challenging the Trump administration’s Colorado River plan, which orders Nevada, Arizona and California to cut water use by about 20% over the next two years, and allows for much larger cuts in future years.
From the LA Times, earlier this week:
Governor Joe Lombardo warns the [federal] plan would severely harm the Las Vegas area, while four other states upstream completely avoid mandatory reductions.
The lawsuit underscores growing tensions among seven states that depend on the river. Lake Mead and Lake Powell, the river’s largest reservoirs, have fallen to record lows.
In the first salvo of what could become a prolonged court battle over Colorado River water, the state of Nevada has sued the Trump administration over its plan to impose major water cutbacks on Las Vegas.
One of the reasons my family moved to southwest Colorado: there’s water here. In fact, there’s so much water here, that we’ve been sending most of it downstream to Nevada and Arizona and California. Not just because we’re nice guys — which we are — but because we couldn’t use it all. So why waste it? Send it to Nevada, what the heck.
Apparently, the new federal guidelines for Lake Mead and Lake Powell will require “the Lower Basin states” — California, Nevada and Arizona — to cut their diversions from the Colorado River by up to 20% over the next two years.
But “the Upper Basin states” — Colorado, Wyoming, Utah and New Mexico — are not being required to cut back on our diversions.
For good reason, because the water is actually our water. That’s the reason it’s called “the Colorado River”. All these long years, dating back to the 1922 River Compact… back before most people knew that the “Lower Basin” even existed… especially, that Nevada existed… we’ve been sending billions of gallons downstream to flush the toilets in Las Vegas and Phoenix and Los Angeles.
Because we’re nice guys. We didn’t have to agree to the 1922 Compact. But we did.
That 1922 agreement suggested that the Upper Basin had the right to divert and use half the water in the River — 7.5 million acre feet per year — and the Lower Basin would get the other half.
Pretty darned generous, I would say.
I remember one time, my sister had a chocolate bar that she was supposed to share with me. She broke it in half, and handed me my share.
It was obvious that she had given me the smaller half. So I spoke up.
“Hey, you gave me the small half!”
My sister got defensive. “Well, what would you have done differently?”
I told her, if I had broken the chocolate bar, I would have given her the bigger half, and I would have kept the smaller half for myself.
She smiled. “Well, Louis, you did get the smaller half. So what are you complaining about?”
She was right. What was I complaining about.
Of course, when the chocolate bar is actually one of the largest rivers in North America, and it has to be split up seven ways, someone is bound to start complaining.
In this case, the first ones to complain are the folks who decided to live in a dry, desolate desert with no water of its own to speak of.
Maybe other Lower Basin states will also start complaining?
Tom Buschatzke, Arizona’s lead negotiator during two years of Colorado River talks, said last week that his state is “reserving our right to potentially take legal action.”
The photo shared at the top of this column shows Nevada, but it could easily be in Arizona.
I don’t envy the federal Bureau of Reclamation. Looks like they’re going to be fighting in court for the next several years.
Obviously, the candy bar was too small.
Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all. You can read more stories on his Substack account.