LOS
ANGELES IS FINALLY STARTING TO RUN OUT OF WATER
Vice,
28
Janaury, 2014
In
LA, we know our region cycles between El NiƱo years and drought
years, but we don't have many bone-dry years. Right now is the driest
the region has been in 163 years of formal record keeping. It's also
probably the driest it's been in
500 years,
and a sign of LA's bleak future. The word "drought" has
lost all meaning to us though. Our utilities have done a brilliant
job of keeping us comfortable, with plentiful running water, while
every part of our region without plumbing wilts to a crisp.
Talk
to older Southern Californians and they'll throw up finger quotes
when they use the word "drought." They'll blame politicians
and environmentalists for droughts as though they control the
weather. In Sacramento, there's so much finger-pointing and leftover
bitterness from the last drought, or the one before, or the one
before that, that we forget to notice that our
hills are on fire,
bears
are wandering into our cities, our
air is toxic,
and some of our unique flora
and fauna
face extinction in months, not years.
When
Governor Jerry Brown declared a statewide drought emergency, he told
us all we need to use 20 percent less water. Local news reports about
the drought are idiotic,
and basically tell you what products to buy. Reporters tend to parrot
the talking points provided to them. Debbie Arrington of the
Sacramento Bee
urges
you to conserve
in the well-intentioned article, "Drought makes water saving a
household necessity." It features advice like, "A 20
percent cut represents 76 gallons. Think of it as two loads of
laundry or seven short showers."
Great.
Saving water and putting less strain on the water districts is a good
thing to do. However, my toilet is already so low-flow it just asks
my turds nicely to go down the drain. My showerhead is like standing
under a sleeping baby.
Granted,
local news is just supposed to be a comforting slurry of
news-flavored distraction, and I really don't believe it needs to
shake viewers into some kind of environmentalist hysteria. Still,
there's a point at which telling people to plant native flowers
available at your local Lowe's goes from mawkish and bland to
Orwellian. I've been hearing the conservation message since I was in
kindergarten and it all runs together. Conservation is a small part
of the story this year.
So
what's the "story," smart guy?
The
story is that LA is California’s drain hole. The imperative to keep
our megalopolis going comes with zero regard for what that costs the
surrounding region. LA is piped into the rest of the state's water
supply via the Edmund G. Brown California Aqueduct—named after our
current governor's father. The state is a tangle of water conveyance
channels and pipes, with farmers, politicians, and environmentalists
fighting the same water war William
Mulholland
fought almost a hundred years ago. Driving up the I-5 freeway from
Los Angeles to San Francisco, you'll pass huge banners on fallow
fields reading, "End
the Congress Created Dust Bowl,"
and "Food Grows Where Water Flows." The farmers get furious
about losing water rights to other farmers, or worst of all,
endangered species.
The
Los Angeles water supply hangs from a gossamer thread, but for all we
know, we're flush with water. The Los Angeles Department of Water and
Power (LADWP), says we're
prepared.
Here in Los Angeles, we hardly care about local rainfall. While
explaining his job to me, a former Southern California water district
official confided that the people who manage water utilities in
Southern California are so focused on the buying and selling of water
that a rainy year is something of an irritation. Despite their
valiant attempts to capture the rain, most of it gets channeled into
the sea, which is a frustrating waste that they lament as they return
to buying from a wholesaler.
To
try and understand the situation, I talked to LADWP spokesperson Jane
Galbraith about this. "The Los Angeles Aqueduct is providing 20
percent of our water this year,” she told me, referring to the
Mulholland-designed aqueduct that conveys water from an area just
north of our city. “It provides 75 percent in a wet year," she
went on. As for the rest? "We're buying water from Metropolitan
Water District,"
she explained. "They're the wholesaler. We'll be buying 80
percent from Met." Buying from a wholesaler is more expensive
than using the water that just flows in from the Owens Valley that
supplies The
Los Angeles Aqueduct,
so prices will go up, but at the moment, there's no real danger of
running out. In theory.
But
where does this mysterious Metropolitan Water District get its
seemingly limitless supply of water? Partly it's from the California
Aqueduct, which flows down from NorCal. But what really keeps our
fountains pointlessly flowing here in Southern California is the
Colorado River Aqueduct.
The
decline of the Colorado River via
"On
[offshoots of] the Colorado River, they're built huge reservoirs:
Lake Mathews, Lake Skinner, Diamond Valley Lake." These popular
recreation lakes are big enough to surf in, but they're really just
some of the world's largest water storage facilities. So Metropolitan
Water District has water for Los Angeles, and every other county in
Southern California. "They've never reported a shortage for Los
Angeles," Galbraith told me, without adding the word "yet."
Despite
recent
flooding
in Colorado, the Colorado River is in a
drought of its own.
That is especially terrifying, when you realize that the Colorado
River has already been in decline for
decades.
But you'd never know it by looking at the huge lakes we call
revervoirs. We're legally entitled, along with smaller cities like
San Diego and Phoenix, to drink a set amount of the Colorado River
each year, which lets us feel blameless, even as we read stories
about the Mighty Colorado becoming a creek, and Lake
Mead disappearing by 2017
over our morning coffee made of water that's piped in from those very
places.
Wait.
Why does LA get to drain the Colorado River?
For
almost a hundred years, we’ve been preparing for a dire water
apocalypse, and this is it. We're draining our vast reservoirs to
stay alive for the time being, but we're not acknowledging that our
city got here through feats of engineering combined with chicanery,
fraud, and hubris in the first place.
If
you learned everything you know about the history of LA’s water
from Chinatown,
you've had a taste, but you don't know much. Pre-Columbian Los
Angeles had enough water for a fishing settlement where the
not-so-mighty Los Angeles River trickled into the sea. Later, western
settlers turned it into a bunch of connected commercial areas, and
then a big, sprawling town, but there wasn't, and isn't, and never
will be enough naturally occurring water here to sustain a
world-class metropolis. Then an Irish huckster named William
Mulholland moved in.
Mulholland
was a self-taught engineer overseeing the flow of water into LA via a
makeshift ditch put in place by the Spanish. Managing LA's water
meant Mulholland combated drought every few years. He and his boss,
Frederick Eaton, the 24th mayor of LA, saw bigger things for the City
of Angels, and were willing to lie, cheat and steal to make them
happen. All Mulholland and Eaton had to do was trick the farmers of
the Owens Valley, north of LA, into giving up the rights to their own
water.
Eventually,
the farmers got wise, and waged economic warfare via price hikes,
which Mulholland resisted. They waged a bloodless resistance campaign
against Mulholland that newspapers called "California's Little
Civil War."
In response, Mulholland sent a small army, and gave them
shoot-to-kill orders. Later, Mulholland pulled a similar prank on
communities to LA's northwest by building the St.
Francis Dam.
That time, however, the war wasn't bloodless. The dam failed
immediately following an inspection by Mulholland, and as many as 600
people died.
Still,
Los Angeles, with its now plentiful water, expanded and became the
way-too-spread-out city it is today, all because the 20th Century was
a wet century. The 21st Century is looking dry.
Image
via
So
we should do what? Give the water back?
The
environmentalist in me can't justify diverting more water from the
Sacramento River Delta, like in Jerry Brown's contentious twin
tunnel plan,
but as a human, my fellow humans need water. Similarly, the Colorado
River once fed a brackish ecosystem near the Sea of Cortez in Mexico.
That's all ancient history now, and that delta is barely a trickle.
We're doing the same for every source of water in the Southwest. We
need every drop for ourselves. To accommodate the perverse placement
of our human settlements, we're second-guessing the knowledge of
erosion and remaking our state's waterways in the manner of our
choosing.
In
short, we've been flipping off Mother Nature for a century, but we're
still losing. Maybe we can't have a city here after all. Time to pack
up and go, everyone. We gave it our best shot.
Of
course, my proposal to dismantle and relocate Los Angeles probably
won't be popular.
What
now?
California's
natural beauty is going to shrivel up sooner than humanity here will.
An ecologist named Craig Allen told National
Geographic
a
few years ago, "The projections are that Joshua trees may not
survive in Joshua Tree National Park. Sequoias may not survive in
Sequoia National Park." We may have to start weighing the idea
of irrigating our national parks.
LA's
air quality, something that was improving my whole life, is now
taking a nosedive.
It had been nice finding out that Los Angeles had a skyline, but
forest fires and low humidity are bringing back smog
in a big way. The Inland Empire, the area of the LA suburbs where I'm
from, is starting to get dust
storms.
We're being told not to have fires in our fireplaces. Clinics are
starting to treat people for pollution-related
breathing problems,
potentially leading to greater numbers of smog-related
deaths.
Never
fear, though. Thanks to snow machines, we
can ski.
Our fake
lawns
will remain green. Saveh20.org has fun garden
ideas.
We can be prepared for this drought, Los Angeles.
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