Under the broiling hot sun of California鈥檚 Imperial Valley, a canal cuts the land in two. On one side, gravelly beige sand is dotted with scrub and shimmering waves of heat blur the mountains in the distance. On the other, sprawling fields of crops blanket the valley floor in a mat of bright green squares.
Here, plentiful sun and high temperatures create a near year-round growing season. Farms sit atop the silty soils of an ancient river delta. And for at least the last hundred years, a steady supply of fresh water from the Colorado River has turned the valley from a baking desert into an agricultural oasis.
鈥淚t really is an emerald gem that we have,鈥� said John Hawk, whose family has been growing crops in the Imperial Valley since the early 1900s. 鈥淲ith the water, we can do miracles.鈥�
Hawk and other farmers are reluctant to further cut back on the amount of water they use to keep their fields green, despite pressure from policymakers looking to reduce strain on the Colorado River. Growers say they want to be part of a solution, but are asking for money to incentivize water cutbacks, and hint at other cultural and legal hurdles that stand in the way of reducing their water use.
The Imperial Valley in crops and livestock each year. That鈥檚 because the valley鈥檚 Imperial Irrigation District (IID) holds the largest single allocation of Colorado River water 鈥� bigger than any other farming district or city between Wyoming and Mexico. But now, that water allocation is under increasing scrutiny from water managers looking to cut back on water use and correct a perilous gap between supply and demand on the Colorado River.
The valley鈥檚 farmers are bound together by IID. The body represents growers in negotiations about water rights and wields a tremendous amount of clout. California鈥檚 share of Colorado River water is larger than any other state, and about 70% of it is earmarked for IID.
The district has been referred to as a 鈥�鈥� and an 鈥�鈥� and has leaned into its reputation as brash and eager to push back at critics.
Since 2000, the river鈥檚 water supply has been shrinking due to climate change, and policymakers have failed to make significant cutbacks to the region鈥檚 water use. Over the past two decades, water managers have drawn up a patchwork of short-term measures to prevent catastrophe 鈥� like the loss of hydropower production at the nation鈥檚 largest reservoirs 鈥� but have been caught in a standoff over how to substantially and permanently reduce demand.
IID recently signed up for some cutbacks as part of a three-state plan to reduce how much water California, Arizona and Nevada take from the river. But the broader task of balancing the river鈥檚 supply and demand will be nearly impossible without Imperial farmers on board with using even less.
Fertile ground
Farmer Jack Vessey started up his pickup truck and the air conditioner roared to life. It was unseasonably cool for late June, but temperatures had already reached the 90s before the end of breakfast time. Vessey cruised along dirt farm roads, gesturing out at neatly divided plots of salad greens as far as the eye can see.
鈥淭his was spring mix over here,鈥� he said, pointing to a patch that鈥檚 resting between growing seasons. 鈥淭his was iceberg lettuce over here. That was spinach and romaine back there.鈥�
Vessey鈥檚 great grandfather started the business in 1923, and the family has been growing here since the 1940s.
Imperial Valley growers often court criticism for the amount of water they use, but are quick to assert just what they do with it 鈥� grow a sizable portion of America鈥檚 vegetables.
Estimates vary because Imperial鈥檚 greens are packaged and counted alongside veggies from other nearby regions, but around 90% of the nation鈥檚 leafy greens sold in the winter are grown with Colorado River water between a few valleys in California, Arizona and Mexico. Imperial contributes a large portion of that.
This region is hot and dry, even when huge swaths of the country are covered in snow and below-freezing temperatures.
鈥淲e're not growing hot Cheetos for your kids,鈥� Vessey said. 鈥淲e're growing medicine for your kids.鈥�
Vessey and his peers are also churning out fields of alfalfa hay, a particularly thirsty crop fed to cattle. Vessey said alfalfa is an important piece of his growing portfolio, and can be planted when fields need a break between seasons of leafy greens better suited for human consumption.
Alfalfa growth in the Imperial Valley and elsewhere across the river basin has . Cities under pressure to use Colorado River water more judiciously are quick to point out that about 80% of the river鈥檚 water is used for agriculture, and some critics as a glaringly inefficient use within that sector.
The Colorado River basin as a whole $880 million of hay overseas each year, with most going to China, Japan and Saudi Arabia.
鈥榃e need to be paid鈥�
John Hawk, another farmer in the valley, stepped out of his own white pickup and pulled on a ballcap to keep the sun out of his eyes. Hawk, who also serves as a county supervisor, comes from a long line of local growers. 鈥淔our generations going on five,鈥� he said, and noted that his dad helped build the All-American canal, which carries Colorado River water to Imperial鈥檚 fields.
Hawk watched as water slowly spread across one of his fields, drowning the dirt and gradually seeping into the mud. This method of flood irrigation, he explained, looks like a waste of water, but is needed to flush salts out of the ground between growing seasons. Across the road, that salty water splashed into a canal full of runoff, flowing away from the fields.
鈥淒o we need to conserve? Absolutely,鈥� Hawk said. 鈥淲e need to conserve, but we need to be paid for the conservation.鈥�
Hawk鈥檚 sentiment is a common one around these parts. Conservation takes a backseat to the bottom line. New technologies and methods exist that could help farmers like Hawk cut back on water use, but there鈥檚 little incentive to install them without money on the table.
鈥淲e could use drip or sprinklers,鈥� Hawk said. 鈥淏ut you got to remember that the cost goes way up in a crop. And so how are we compensated for doing that?鈥�
Hawk argued that even compensated cuts would be painful 鈥� threatening local jobs and risking an increase to the cost of vegetables and the cost of beef and dairy produced with the help of Imperial hay.
Imperial growers have another major sticking point, too 鈥� the Salton Sea. The Colorado used to intermittently fill the giant lake before it was dammed upstream and its flows significantly curtailed. Now, with the river confined to its channel, the sea is sustained with runoff from the farm fields of the Imperial Valley. As the valley鈥檚 farmers use less, the Salton Sea will continue to dry, reducing habitat for the flocks of migratory birds that stop there, and producing dust storms that increase risk of asthma and other respiratory diseases in the valley鈥檚 residents.
Potential solutions for the Salton Sea and hotly debated, but the Imperial Valley鈥檚 water policymakers are wary of drying it any further, and likely to seek funding to tamp down the hazardous effects of putting even less water into it. A project to clean up and restore the Salton Sea was $250 million from the Inflation Reduction Act.
And the issue of giving up water goes even further beyond the balance sheet, and even the Salton Sea. Western water is governed by the longstanding legal structure of 鈥減rior appropriation.鈥� In short, it means the first people to use water will be the last to face cutbacks in times of shortage. It鈥檚 a system that has proven stubbornly inflexible, even as the realities of a changing climate have forced policymakers to consider sweeping changes to how the Colorado River is shared.
It鈥檚 also a system that greatly benefits farmers in Imperial Valley. Their water rights are among the oldest, and thus the most legally untouchable. That has imbued the area鈥檚 farmers with a legal entitlement to that water and a sense of indignation. The law says their water should be the last to get cut, and Imperial farmers say the law should be followed to the letter now that it鈥檚 time to make those cuts.
Hawk sports a warm grandfatherly demeanor with a neat white mustache, but makes it clear that he means business when it comes to water rights.
鈥淒on't crowd to the front of the line,鈥� he said. 鈥淚t doesn't work, and you'll get a fight out of me. I'll grab you by the neck and say, 鈥楲isten, pal, you pay your dues just like our forefathers did.鈥欌��
The way of the future
One farmer in Imperial Valley knows exactly what he would do if he was paid to conserve, and he鈥檚 already doing it.
Alex Jack sports the same outfit as many other Imperial growers who manage farms from behind a desk 鈥� a blue button-down tucked into jeans. But many of the similarities stop there. He has made no secret of his gripes about the valley鈥檚 agricultural status quo.
鈥淚f you go back and get your grandma's car that had a big V8 in it 鈥� not very good gas mileage, made out of steel, very heavy, clunky 鈥� nowadays you look at that car thinking, 鈥極h my god,鈥欌�� Jack said. 鈥淲ell, unfortunately, a lot of farmers are still driving their grandma's cars, so to speak, when it comes to irrigation.鈥�
Jack, who grows veggies and alfalfa like many other farmers, said efficiency upgrades are a must. That鈥檚 why he鈥檚 experimenting with a handful of new technologies to get more out of his water allocation. That includes a permanent drip irrigation system, which he鈥檚 buried under 70 acres of an alfalfa field.
Jack waded into the field鈥檚 neat rows, the shin-deep stalks crackling under his boots.
鈥淚t's like farming with an eyedropper,鈥� Jack said. 鈥淛ust incredible preciseness for each plant. When you can micromanage your water, your crop production goes up tremendously.鈥�
The tech doesn鈥檛 come cheap. Jack, for example, has had to install costly filtration systems to purify water before it's pumped into the system鈥檚 narrow tubes. If he was king for a day, Jack said he would direct money towards Imperial Valley and make farmers set up similar systems to conserve water. Some holdouts are just 鈥渉ard headed,鈥� but he cites two hurdles that explain widespread adoption of water-saving techniques is difficult under the area鈥檚 current conditions.
Many of the valley鈥檚 farms have been passed down through the same families for generations, but have been gradually divided as the holdings are split among siblings, halving or quartering land and finances with each generation. That, Jack said, has left many farm owners without the capital they鈥檇 need to fund water efficiency projects on their own land.
Another obstacle, he said, is the Imperial Irrigation District itself. The agency serves as a clearinghouse for federal money and other funds sent to the valley as part of regional water transfers.
Jack, whose father Neal served on the district鈥檚 board of directors in the 1970s and 80s, criticized IID for 鈥減utting out fires鈥� with new money, instead of spending it on long-term investments in water conservation.
The district may soon see an influx of federal money. IID just signed on to a proposal for new water cutbacks, and would receive an unspecified total from the Inflation Reduction Act in exchange. The exact number has not yet been announced, but those funds would come out of a $4 billion chunk set aside specifically for Colorado River projects, and could amount to tens or hundreds of millions of dollars, if the proposal moves forward.
Jack, in a cheeky metaphor, accused IID of keeping funds for its own programs when they should be more generously dispersed among farmers.
鈥淟et's say there's four kids in your family and your parents are going away for the weekend,鈥� he said. 鈥淵our older sister is in charge of a hundred dollar bill to make sure everyone's fed. Who gets the change at the end of the day? It's the older sister.鈥� For its part, the district鈥檚 staff say Imperial Valley farmers should adopt new watering techniques like the ones deployed on Jack鈥檚 farm, but allocating money is easier said than done.
鈥淵ou can't make everybody happy,鈥� said Tina Shields, IID鈥檚 water department manager. 鈥淚f you have ten farmers, you have ten different opinions on what the best program is, because they're going to advocate for what works for their business model. But the district has to look at it more programmatically and implement manageable programs and try to satisfy as many people as possible.鈥�
What happens next?
Debates about Imperial Valley water are especially pertinent as the region鈥檚 water managers wring their hands ahead of a looming deadline. The current rules for the Colorado River are set to expire in 2026, and the states that use its water have stressed the need to come up with new ones before then.
While formal negotiations officially began in June, the river鈥檚 policy bigwigs have been hashing out ideas for years, and it hasn鈥檛 brought them much closer to a solution. They face a daunting task. Re-slicing the pie to bring down water demand in the face of climate change will undoubtedly end with painful cuts somewhere among the tens of millions of people which use Colorado River water 鈥� a group that includes a multibillion dollar agriculture economy and major cities like Los Angeles, Phoenix and Denver.
Recent proposals for water conservation garnered plenty of positive press, but water management experts were quick to point out that they amounted to little more than the latest band-aids in a struggling river basin that has been in emergency mode for the past few years.
An unusually wet winter lifted some weight off the shoulders of water managers, but that could be quickly reversed by a string of dry years.
鈥淚 don't know if we're going to make it to 2026,鈥� said Michael Cohen, a senior researcher at the Pacific Institute. 鈥淚'm not sure if the Lower Basin proposals will be enough. Everybody needs to step up and do something as well. So we have a little bit of time, but I don't think it's smooth sailing through 2026 by any stretch.鈥�
Cohen has studied Colorado River policy for three decades and has written extensively about the Salton Sea.
He said any post-2026 rules for the river will need to include conservation from users in Imperial and beyond 鈥� including water users in the Upper Basin states of Colorado, Utah, Wyoming and New Mexico, which are often reticent to promise their own water cutbacks and say larger users, such as those in California, should do so first.
States and observers alike are optimistic that any cuts in any part of the Colorado River Basin will most likely be voluntary, as mandatory water restrictions levied by the federal government would probably end up in court, creating messy legal battles that states say they want to avoid.
Cohen 鈥� and Imperial Valley growers themselves 鈥� said the Imperial Irrigation District should get some credit for water conserved through the Quantification Settlement Agreement, a 2003 deal that shifted some water away from Imperial鈥檚 farms into San Diego and the Los Angeles area.
The 2003 agreement was a tense and messy process, but ultimately saw the Imperial Irrigation District make cutbacks of 500,000 acre-feet each year going forward. The district is entitled to 3.1 million acre-feet each year. Even two decades later, the wounds can still feel fresh in an area that may have to make painful cutbacks again soon.
鈥淲hen your arm is twisted behind your back and you have a gun to your head,鈥� said Tina Shields, IID鈥檚 water department manager, 鈥淵ou enter into these so-called voluntary agreements. It's all worked out for the best, but it's been a chore to get there.鈥�
Cohen is skeptical that drip irrigation could serve as a silver bullet for agencies looking to squeeze some extra water out of the Imperial Valley, and expects farmers would bristle at programs that incentivize them to fallow their fields 鈥� pausing or permanently stopping growth in some areas.
The next frontier, he said, is shifting to different types of crops, exploring alternatives to alfalfa and other similar water-intensive grasses. That鈥檚 a process that could see some of the Colorado River鈥檚 biggest tensions play out in the grocery aisle.
鈥淎s people start saying, 鈥楳aybe we're going to eat a little less cheese on our pizza or reduce our beef consumption,鈥欌�� Cohen said, 鈥淭hen there's a price signal to some of the growers, and they may start shifting to other crops.鈥�
This story is part of ongoing coverage of the Colorado River, produced by KUNC and supported by the Walton Family Foundation.
