Floods

I grew up in the Red River Valley of the North, that part of Minnesota and North Dakota that is about 200 miles long and 50 miles wide. The valley itself is actually the bottom of prehistoric Lake Agassiz, the remnant of which is Lake Winnipeg in Manitoba. The river actually flows north (hence the name of this blog, by the way, "Run North ...") The land is so flat, the drop per miles is only inches, and the southern valley thaws before the northern valley, so there are floods. The water spreads like a blanket, seeping east and west, dissolving snow like sugar, lapping at the top of dikes.

The most recent record flood was in 2009, but the big deal flood was in 1997, when downtown Grand Forks, North Dakota was inundated. Local newspaper, The Grand Forks Herald, kept reporting from their downtown office and produced a paper daily until the building caught fire. After the waters receded they published a book called "Come Hell and High Water" because, of course, they had had their fill of both.

What I remember of flooding is primarily the one in 1978, when the junior and senior boys were released from school to help sandbag around the Two Rivers, as well as at family farms closer to the Red. We lived about four miles from the River, but I could see the water half a mile away from my west-facing bedroom window. To me, Spring thaw and flooding was a novelty that was occasion to drag the old row boat out of the garage, make sure it didn't leak too much, and then set out across the coulie just across the driveway. It wasn't really flood water; it was just full of snow melt that was waiting for the still frozen ground to give in. I regarded it as a terrific occasion to goof off in a boat.

Water Everywhere - But Here

I attended my second water-related workshop in two weeks last night. Last week I sat through a 2-hour Water Wise Workshop coordinated by the Coachella Valley Water District. Typically, the workshop runs all day, but they condensed it to reach more people.

Here in the CV, there seems to be a preoccupation with golf courses, which, as we all know, use an astounding amount of water. Considering that California no longer has enough water to sustain continued development and still tend to agricultural needs, I can't help but think the whole golf course thing is absurd. I have nothing against golf - I was a champion cart-driver-beer-hander-outer-cigar-smoker gal. Not much good with the clubs. Yet I can't help but look around and want to shake people.

When I moved here in 2005, I spoke to a friend about this. She, too, had relocated from KC (in fact, she was the one who insisted that I meet my now ex-husband). I mentioned the whole water and golf course thing to her, and she responded with, "No, no, no. I was just at a water district meeting a few weeks ago and they said we have plenty of water for hundreds of years." Hm. Funny. Then why is everyone talking about water conservation now if we have plenty for hundreds of years? Maybe because we don't.

Or maybe we do. But the consequence of continuing to draw on the aquifer is becoming apparent. The level has dropped far more quickly than replenishing can take place. And once it's gone, it's gone. Period. Even with all of the recharging ponds that are in place throughout the valley, if the water doesn't get into the ground quickly enough to keep the aquifer level constant, the land subsides. That means that it will not rehydrate. Essentially, it is possible to desertify a desert.

My response to my friend when she told me that there was plenty of water was to refer to the then-current drought conditions. Her response? "Well, shit, Kimbel. It's a desert!"

It sure is.

The prize for stupidity yesterday: During the Q & A portion of the presentation last night, a gentleman asked why these states who have plenty of water don't put in pipeline and send water to us here in California? Like all those people in the Midwest. They've got too much water right now. ( ummmm - snow melt? flooding? Spring? Natural phenomena?) He said, "Well, I'm from Texas and we're a huge oil producer but we pipe it everywhere." Could someone please explain to the gentleman that it's not quite the same thing? Happily, another man shared the information that the states in the Great Lakes Basin voted to prohibit piping water out of state. Hooray! Another point for sanity!

If I sound peeved, it's because I am. Few things infuriate me like stupidity - and I find stupidity about the environment, especially willful ignorance, inexcusable. At least the guy was at the lecture last night and perhaps learned something.

By the way - in California, 70% of all water goes to irrigation. And that's not just agricultural irrigation. That's keeping our golf courses green.

OK. I'm over myself for the night.

Stay hydrated.