Rio Grande springs to life across southern NM as irrigation begins
Saturday, 8:55 a.m., and New Mexico State University engineer Phil King is on the phone: The river is on its way to Las Cruces. Want to come out and play? Unlike in Albuquerque, where the river is always wet, the wide, sandy bed of the Rio Grande is almost always dry in southern New Mexico below the Hatch Valley until irrigation season begins. Every drop of river water is allocated under a more than centuryold treaty — to Texas; then Mexico, and to the onion, chile, alfalfa and pecan farms of southern New Mexico’s Mesilla Valley.
Chasing the river’s advance is a strange thrill, both magical and unsettling. It is like waiting for the
return of a powerful force of nature that can be, ironically, turned on and off by man. But once released, the river rushes with all the might it would have in its natural state.
The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation opened the faucet at Caballo Dam at 6 a.m. Friday. Moving about 2½ miles per hour, the water was arriving at Las Cruces 24 hours later. I found King flying a drone on the banks of the river north of the city. I got there just in time.
The water appeared like a mirage in the distance — until I realized how quickly it was gaining on us. The river snaked south, hugging the east bank, then crept across the sandy bed till it met the other side.
Fifty road miles away, the Bureau of Reclamation was releasing 2,000 cubic feet of water per second from Caballo.
This year, the water is apportioned first to El Paso. Mexico is scheduled for its water deliveries on Monday. Hatch and Rincon farmers can begin irrigating April 17. And the Mesilla Valley farmers will get their portion starting in mid-May.
It’s King’s job to monitor the river’s release each year, but it’s not what he would call work. He’s been out here on spring mornings every year since 2004. This year, he is excitedly shooting video of the advance with the drone.
As the river fills up at the first spot, we drive about seven miles south to Shalem Colony Trail, where the riverbed cuts through sprawling pecan orchards. There is no sign of water yet.
The banks of the river in Las Cruces are green and strewn with trash — broken glass, empty Dos Equis beer bottles, bullet casings. In the sandy bed, a black-and-gold thong sandal.
People gather as the water arrives. Two dogs rush toward it, pouncing. Children run alongside the flow, then shriek playfully as their parents call them back toward the banks. The water spreads faster than you expect.
A dirty foam cap makes the river look like a rushing root beer float. It has gotten more pronounced in recent years, King tells me.
“It’s one of the great mysteries,” he says. “The theory is that it’s some combination of salts and organics that build up in the very surface of the riverbed when the river is dry.”
Thanks to a better-than-average snowpack, the river in southern New Mexico is expected to run into midSeptember, according to Elephant Butte Irrigation District. Last year, the river ran till mid-August.
As the water rushed for the first time since last summer, it meandered under a bridge, heading south, eventually, to the sea.