Much alarming is said these days about the Colorado River, and rightly so. That marvel of nature and lifeblood water source for 40 million people and innumerable creatures faces a third decade of megadrought that may be a new normal in the era of climate change.
But Tuesday marks the annual World Water Day, and the theme is Groundwater: Making the Invisible Visible. So take a moment to reflect on the hidden bounty and beauty of Nevada’s groundwater, what it does for nature and our communities, and how we can protect it.
Nevada is the driest state in the country, with less than 10 inches of precipitation each year. Surface streams and lakes are few and far between, but a bird could fly not much farther than the distance from Las Vegas to the Colorado River and find one of the most ecologically important groundwater systems on our planet. The Amargosa River flows 125 miles, mostly underground, from just north of Beatty, through the valley that shares its name — which means bitter water — and skirts the California border until it swings around north to empty into the lowest place in North America, Badwater Basin in Death Valley.
You could call the Amargosa the Colorado River of the Mojave Desert, and you wouldn’t be wrong. It is just as wondrous in its ecological context. The Amargosa River surfaces in springs and seeps to make a string of lush, green pearls, precious refuges that support an abundance of life, including rare species like the Amargosa toad, pupfish and dace, and tiny voles that exist nowhere else on Earth.
The biodiverse Amargosa has its protectors. The Nature Conservancy is among several groups that prioritize protection and restoration from the springs of China Ranch in California to the headwaters in the Oasis Valley in Nevada. And local collaborative efforts to protect the imperiled Amargosa toad shine. But where water is so scarce, threats remain: urban development around Pahrump, mining and, of course, climate change, which is fast warming the basin and pushing species to seek suitable habitat further north.
There are many other places in Nevada where groundwater shows itself to our surface world, supporting Edenic oases that can catch a traveler by surprise in this arid landscape. Spend any time looking, and you will find them. In Spring Valley, there is the place called Bahsahwahbee, where the unique and culturally significant swamp cedars thrive because of the presence of shallow groundwater. To Indigenous people, it is a sacred valley. Traveling there, you will pass through the stunningly beautiful White River Valley, a chain of improbably green valleys stretching north from Moapa almost to Ely. The White River, like the Amargosa, is an underground river of groundwater, mostly hidden but betrayed by the life and ecosystems it supports. And then there are the Ruby Marshes, a maze of wetlands and channels in the heart of the Great Basin desert, where you can see sandhill cranes, tundra swans, and hear a symphony of songbirds, offering a critical rest stop along the inland Pacific migratory flyway.
Scientists have a name for these wondrous, biodiverse patches where groundwater peeps out of its subterranean world to sprinkle our desert with life: groundwater dependent ecosystems (GDEs). Working with the Nevada Department of Wildlife and others, the Nature Conservancy has developed an interactive story map to explore Nevada’s GDEs from your home (arcg.is/qyj0v). A few clicks reveal that GDEs are widespread in our desert state, supporting our ecosystems and economies alike. Across the state, GDEs help sustain Nevada’s 3 million residents by supplying forage for livestock, providing water storage and purification, preserving soils, storing carbon and providing recreational benefits. And GDEs are responsible for much of the biodiversity you experience in Nevada. They are an essential part of what makes Nevada a great state.
It is critical that we not only see the bounty of this mostly hidden resource but also do everything we can to conserve our GDEs in the face of threats like water scarcity and climate change. As we devise strategies to address climate change in Nevada, we must also help our groundwater-dependent ecosystems adapt. We can physically restore, enhance and manage riparian habitats through planting and infrastructure. Working collaboratively, we can ensure that enough water remains in its natural place so that groundwater continues to protect the species that depend on it while still serving human needs. We can support more public funding for groundwater resiliency. And, most important of all, we can encourage policy action to mitigate and adapt to climate change.
Bret Birdsong is a professor of law at the William S. Boyd School of Law at UNLV and serves as a trustee of the Nevada Chapter of the Nature Conservancy.