Saturday, March 22, 2025

The Game Changer

                                                           The Game Changer
 
March the fifteenth represents a notable day on my calendar, for its the day that the USGS river gauge located on the Catamount Bridge goes back online.  It delivers real time information on what the river is doing from then until November fifteenth each year, and over the past several years that its been there its proven to be a real game changer for those who recreate along the Lower Upper Colorado River. 

  The gauge near Catamount was very welcome when it first went in several years ago.  Before then, trying to determine the actual flows on the river past my backyard involved adding the number for the gauge at Kremmling to the number for the gauge on the Piney River. Or, one could take the number from the gauge at Dotsero, then subtract the figure from Kremmling. You could also take those two numbers, and average them out.  Whatever method chosen, it was only a rough estimate the didn't factor in the various other streams and creeks that added to the Colorado's flow, or the irrigation headgates and pumps that pulled it out.

  The new gauge changed all that.  It was installed at the behest of the Upper Colorado River Wild and Scenic Stakeholder Group, an organization that I became a member of not long after. From a shortcut on one's phone or laptop, it became possible to check not only the river's flow, but its water and air temperature as well. This was huge, not only for the flows but for the water temps, which are very important to an angler.  A trout's metabolism is very much dependent on the temperature of the water they live in. At the low end of the temperature range in the spring, when the water rises to fifty degrees, the fish and the bugs they eat become active.  Time to go fishing. Later in the summer, when temperatures begin to approach (and sometime exceed) seventy, its time to stop fishing, and to use the metrics provided by the gauge to initiate ways to mitigate those warm temps, sometimes by provoking the release of water upstream from reservoirs to cool things off.
 

  For example, a couple of years after the Catamount gauge went in, we were having a dry summer.  That winter's snowpack had been subpar, and the following spring had seen very little rain.  As part of normal reservoir operations, flows had been held back during what would have been a meager runoff, and for a while that had made for great fishing during the period when the river in its unfettered state would have been high and dirty.  But by mid-summer, the bill was coming due and not only were water temperatures climbing, but algae blooms were beginning to blossom on the river bottom. Through this, I was checking the flow and temperature of the river every day watching nervously as temperatures climbed. 
 
  Then one day, I took a family out on a scenic float, and as usual we had a wonderful day on the river. The sky was bright and sunny, but it wasn't as much of a white water float as it might have been since the river was only about 550 cfs, instead of the thousand cfs it might have been. But there are no bad days on the water, and they had a good experience.  However after they left, I was down at my takeout cleaning the mud off my raft and while standing in the water noticed that it felt warm.  Not warm as in not cold, but warm as if I were in my hot tub. I went up to my shop, booted up the PC and clicked the bookmark to the Catamount gauge. I was shocked to see that the water temperature there was exceeding seventy degrees Fahrenheit!  At that point, I had only been a member of the Stakeholder group for a couple of years, but had the email addresses of all the other members.  So I wrote an email and copied everyone on the list, noting the warm temperatures on the river, and asking if there weren't some way to get some water released to aid the trout population in the river, and to forestall the growth I'd been seeing of the algae.

Critically, I also added a link to the Catamount gauge to help bolster that request. I had already been living on the river for ten years by then, and used to monitor river temperatures by means of hot tub thermometer attached by some orange twine to the bank in my backyard.  This was less than scientific. But by adding the link to the gauge upriver, I wasn't making some anecdotal argument, my plea was backed up by actual data the was both objective and shareable.

Once the raft was pulled out and put away, and phone calls returned, I went back to check my email before going home.  My Inbox already had a response from a member of the Stakeholder who worked for the Colorado River District, who said that he had seen my email noting the warm water in the river.
In it, he said that the as a result of the readings from Catamount, they River District would be releasing some water from Wolford Mountain reservoir the following morning, from the lowest outlet of the dam to get the coldest water possible.  I was elated.  I had written an email only an hour earlier, not really expecting much, and suddenly had the knowledge that the river was going to be getting a little bit of help starting the next day.  It wouldn't completely fix the problem, but it would help.

  The next morning, I got to my shop and fired up the PC.  Checking my email, I noticed some other messages from the Stakeholder group.  One was from an employee of Denver Water, and another from someone with Northern Water, both entities from the Front Range who supply water to folks living from Fort Collins in the north to Denver in the south.  Now, its a pretty popular opinion for people on the western slope of Colorado to despise the Front Range water providers for "stealing" water that should be flowing west, instead of being pumped and piped east to where the majority of Colorado's population lives.  Its an opinion that I used to share.  But there are two factors to consider.  The first is that dams and the reservoirs they create are not inherently good or bad. What is important is how they're managed. Without dams, the trout fishery that we enjoy on the Upper Colorado River simply would not exist.  Yes there would be big flows in the spring, scouring the river and spreading sediment, but in late summer of some dry years, there might not be much water in the river at all, and temperatures would skyrocket. It would not be conducive to brown and rainbow trout, which after all are not native to this river.  The cutthroats that are would be higher up in the watersheds, enjoying those cooler waters.  The second thing to remember is that many of the employees of those water providers aren't sitting around all day plotting ways to steal that water from the western slope.  They also enjoy recreating on the western rivers themselves, they just happen to live on the other side of the Continental Divide, and their job is to see that the bulk of Colorado's residents have water to drink, and to shower and flush the toilet with. 

 So that next morning, I was happy to see that one of those emails was from an employee of Denver Water who had seen my email. This was a man with whom I'd enjoyed cold beer around a warm campfire at a Stakeholder Group campout a couple of weeks earlier. He wrote that he had seen my email from the previous evening, and as a result Denver Water would be releasing extra water from Williams Fork reservoir that very morning.  But the good news wasn't done yet.  There was another email from a member of the Stakeholder group who worked for Northern Water.  She said that after my email had been distributed around their office, it was decided that pumpback operations out of Windy Gap reservoir would be curtailed earlier than planned, with the result that more water would be sent down the Colorado River! 

  I found myself in a pleasant state of shock. I had written an email the previous evening, not expecting much to come of it, and here it was twelve hours later, and sweet relief in the form of cold water was already on its way to rescue the Colorado River!  I have no doubt that being able to add a link to that email made all the difference.  It wasn't just some crank of a fisherman yelling at the kids to get off his aquatic lawn, it was hard, objective real time data that couldn't be ignored or disputed. Cooperation, not conflict.  Bridges, not walls. The pen is mightier than the sword, indeed. 

  Then a few years ago, the gauge got even better.  More metrics were added to the Catamount gauge's output, including Turbidity, PH, Conductivity and some others.  From an angler's perspective, the new Turbidity reading became as important as flows or temperature.  Below State Bridge, the geology surrounding the Colorado River becomes much softer and more colorful. As a result, heavy summer rains can quickly turn the river opaque with sediment in colors ranging from red, brown or green, depending on where the point of discharge is.  If one is boating the river for the sheer pleasure of the experience, an off-color river is not a problem, and can even make the ride more beautiful. But to an angler, trying to fish off-color water is a no go.  I have  seen people catch fish in mud, but its rare. Most anglers will cancel their trip or fish somewhere else if the river is really dirty. Having that information in hand before driving all the way up to your put can make the difference between a great day or a bust.

  With some familiarity using the gauge metrics, one can look at what the gauge is displaying and imagine what's been going on along the river and its surroundings. On clear sunny days, the air temperature rises, plateaus, and drops again in the afternoon.  But on partly cloudy days, that afternoon line becomes jagged, as each time a cloud passes the temp drops, then zooms back up with the sun.  If a front passes and the clouds mean business, the temperature will drop and stay low.  If it rains locally, the flows will increase a little, and sometimes by a lot.  If the rain falls on a tributary or dry wash that runs through soft geology, then the turbidity number might spike.  By knowing where the sediment is coming in, anglers can adjust their plans by going either above the point of discharge to find clear water, or far enough below it to get their day of fishing in before the muddy water drifts down that far.  The river flows at about 2-3 mph, so one can estimate the time it will take to reach a point downstream if you know where it enters a river, and when.

All of this is possible thanks to an innocuous river gauge that one could drive past without even noticing.  The term "game changer" is very overused these days, but relative to the USGS gauge at Catamount, its probably an understatement.

In the past few years, these additional metrics have been added to the USGS gauges at Dotsero and Kremmling as well, which give river users a very comprehensive look at just what the river is doing at any given moment. I've been living along the Lower Upper Colorado River for over twenty years, and running a float fishing business for almost as long.  I used to field lots of calls from anglers and other outfitters wondering what shape the river was in, especially in the late summer once the monsoon rains began.  The Catamount gauge has made me somewhat irrelevant as they've learned to read the gauge, and I'm fine with that.  I've got better things to do than answer those calls.

  If you are an active river user who doesn't have all of this information at hand for your particular river, it would be worth finding out who is bankrolling that gauge.  The USGS does the work of installing and maintaining the gauges, and translating their output into a form that you can read on your phone. If your river is prone to off-color events, volatile flows, or mine discharges, it might be worth looking into having the gauge on that river retrofitted with these new metrics. 

  Jack Bombardier
  Confluence Casting

Here is the link to the Catamount gauge. (I usually select the link for, "Legacy real-time page" near the top to see the parameters I'm interested in displayed on one page)





 



In Praise Of Federal Employees, Or Papa Needs A New Set Of Oars

 To All,


 Its that time of year again, when all of the bills come due from various state and federal agencies as well as insurance, all in service of providing floating and shuttle service for you, the general public.  In addition, on my last trip of the season last fall, I managed to break an oar while running Pinball Rapid through some very skinny water. Time for some new oars!

  For that reason I'll be having an early season sale, something I haven't done for a couple of years.  As always, if you buy a trip now, it won't expire until I do, so if for some reason you can't make it out here this year, you will still get another bite at the apple the next, or whenever so long as I'm still breathing (and rowing). You can pay with checks, credit cards, or Venmo.  The price for a full day of fishing the prettiest stretch of the Lower Upper Colorado River is $450, but I'm only going to sell a few at that price! When you purchase I float, I'll send you a certificate so that you've got something tangible to hold onto, so trips can also make good gifts.

  Soon I'll be completing my sixty-fourth trip around the sun, so replacing my heavy ten foot oars was probably due. I can still row all day without effort while I'm on the water, but the moment my big cataraft touches the sand at the takeout, I suddenly feel every stroke all at once. Rowing back to back days isn't an option anymore, for it takes me a full day of not rowing to get over a day on the river.  My last set of oars lasted over twenty years, which amounts to many tens of thousands of strokes into the Colorado River, (and fewer into the Eagle, Roaring Fork, Yampa, Green and Gunnison rivers).  What I'll be replacing them with will be the lightest damn oars I can find, which will be pricey.  But if they can extend the amount of years I can keep doing this, then it will be money well spent. Plus, it will add to the time you can cash in on your discounted trip, so its a win-win for everyone!  

  Paying all of the fees necessary to various governmental entities each year is something I normally dread.  But this year, its not bothering me as much as usual, especially for the biggest check I write which is to the Bureau of Land Management.  The reason that I won't mind writing that check to the BLM this year is that our federal government is under attack by, well the federal government.  In the twenty years that I've run my outfitting business, I've dealt with many federal employees who work for the BLM, the US Forest Service, the Bureau of Reclamation, and the US Fish and Wildlife Service.  I depend on weather forecasts from NOAA, and obsessively check the real time state of the river using gauge information provided by the USGS. Of course, saying that these people work for the federal government is not quite correct. These folks work for we the people, and each federal employee that I've personally dealt with has been professional, hardworking and diligent.  Now almost all of them are walking on eggshells, dreading the thought of checking their email and finding a message from DOGE waiting for them. 

  With as many employees as the federal government has, I'm sure that there are bad apples, and some deadwood that could be trimmed. I've just never dealt with any of those. But if you think that the federal government is too large, its worth noting that the number of federal employees is about two million, or about what it was in the 1960's. That's despite the fact that the amount of people they serve is much larger that it was then.  The portion of the federal budget their paychecks account for is 6%.  So although perhaps there are federal employees we could do just fine without, those cuts should probably be made with something more akin to a scalpel, not a chainsaw.

  Since the BLM is the big one in my world, its worth noting what they do here along the Upper Colorado River.  The BLM regulates the number of outfitters who ply their trade here, maintain the boat ramps, keep the bathrooms clean, and oversee the river shuttle services.  As busy as the Colorado River can get at times, especially above State Bridge, I shudder to think what it would be like without their oversight. On some rivers like the Eagle and Roaring Fork, which are relatively easy to get permits for, there are days when it looks like bumper cars out there.  Boaters crawl up each other's backsides on the boat ramps, then spend the day on the water doing the same, leapfrogging each other to get into the next good hole first. So, for as much river traffic there is on the Colorado now, it would be much worse without the BLM's oversight.  If one is willing to run some of the trickier sections of the river, solitude can still be found on the Colorado River.

  So even though writing that check to the BLM isn't going to make me jump for joy, I am proud to support the work they do.  And for this year at least, I'm glad to have some tangible way to show that support.  The Colorado River that we all know and love would be a very different place without the BLM, and the fine dedicated people who fill their ranks.

  Time to hop off the soapbox now. The 2025 river season is upon us. With what's shaping up to be a slightly subpar snowpack, the river is year looking like this. It will probably fish great this spring until the runoff begins in early May. Since reservoirs will need to be refilled, the runoff will probably not be a huge one.  This will be disappointing to those (like me) who enjoy smashing into big waves, but the upside is that all of that water being hoarded behind dams in the spring will be available to be released later in summer.  Whether the monsoons come in July or not, its good knowing that there are millions of gallons stored upriver that can be let out to cool the river off.  For that reason, the "Lower" Upper Colorado River is in the best spot to be in anywhere in the American southwest.  Its below the supply (Green Mountain, Dillon Reservoir, Williams Fork, Wolford Mountain, and Lake Granby) but above the demand (the Grand Valley, Powell Reservoir, the Imperial Valley, and other points south like Phoenix and San Diego). When those distant places call for water, it has to come through here to get there. There is literally nowhere else I'd rather be. 

  I hope that everyone reading this has a great summer, and a great job as long as they deserve to have one!

  Jack Bombardier
  Confluence Casting
  jack@confluencecasting.com
  303 378 2149 - cell

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The Laughing River

 

                             The Laughing River   

The other night when I got home from work, I opened the door to my car and heard a sound that was very familiar, though one I hadn't heard in months. It sounded like distant applause, or maybe a sitcom laugh track.  Then it realized that it was just the river, unbound from its icy tomb for the first time since November.  When I heard the rhythmic sssh-sssh-sssh music coming from the backyard, I knew that the large field of ice that had been quickly melting over the previous two weeks had finally floated off downstream. The Colorado River was indeed a river once more, and all vestiges of the ice skating rink we'd enjoyed all winter was gone.  There is no more definitive measure marking the transition from winter to spring I know of than the river ice melting away.  It happens slowly at first, then all at once. 

  This is an important seasonal marker where I live, for twice a year the river goes from being a huge asset in our lives to a liability, even if just for a short  time. Those two periods occur just after Thanksgiving, when the river ice is frozen but not yet thick enough to stand on, and in the spring, when it looks sound but is unsafe.  We have several labradors who consider our backyard and its adjacent waterway their territory, and during those two short periods of unsafe ice we can't let them into that space which is otherwise their slice of heaven, and mine.

 

  Late fall and early spring is also when another phenomenon occurs, river ice circles.  Ice circles usually appear in December and March, in a few specific spots.  One is just below the boat ramp at Cottonwood, and if you stop to watch, you'll see circle spinning slowly, like an album turntable.

  This winter past was pretty ordinary and normal, which is to say, wonderful.  Here on along the river corridors, it was a pretty lean year for snow. In Eagle, we got the Ice Castles, a temporary collection of water frozen and shaped into various tunnels, caves and passageways. Water, along with the air we breathe, is one of the two most essential components of the life.  When people use it to create something beautiful, even if it only lasts in our memories, its a reminder of life's fleeting nature.

Our house isn't in the mountains, but it is surrounded by them.  Along the river itself, we got a few small snowstorms, but nothing I couldn't clear off the river with my doublewide snow shovel.  As a result, we had almost three months of safe, smooth ice to skate on.  There were a few large cracks that formed, but they were obvious if you kept an eye peeled for them.  There were a couple of times I didn't, usually at night stickhandling a throw stick while being pursued by a pack of baying labradors.  Hitting those cracks at the wrong angle meant flying through the air ending with a hard landing, followed by a long slide across the smooth ice.  I'd look up at the night sky from my back, do a quick mental inventory to check if I broke anything, then have my reverie broken my five enthusiastic tongues licking my face.

  But now those days and nights on top of the river surface are over for now, and its time to back into the river.  The time has returned to begin cracking the bedroom window open at night, to let that sweet river music into our home and into our ears.  Today I went and got my dory, and its in the backyard now ready to be eased into the river, to resume its station tied to my dock.  Once its out there, I can just jump into it anytime I want to backrow upriver for a quick float involving no shuttle, or trailer, or any complication beyond unlooping my bow line.  Sometimes I'll take a dog, or two,
 or five, or the cat, or my wife, or maybe a neighbor.  Other times, I hop in after work and go for a twenty minute float, just because I can, and do it by myself to remember why I live here. If I've earned a happy spot in the afterlife, and it involves being in a boat on the Colorado River in perpetuity, I'll be fine   with that.

         ****************************************************

Its only the second day of March, and as such too early to predict what kind of season we'll have this year on the river. The snowpack is just OK, around normal, though there's still plenty of time for it to build up some more.  March is usually the snowiest month in Colorado, and my favorite time to ski.  The river is low and clear in my yard, and I've already seen a few riseforms from sipping trout.  But upriver, there is still a lot of ice in the river yet to melt.  If we don't get our "normal" March snows, and who is to say what is normal weather anymore?, then we might be in for a low water spring as the reservoirs are refilled.  This means that the fishing in May and June might be quite good of the runoff is subdued. However if our next "normal" weather pattern, the summer monsoons come late, then the river might get too warm to fish in July.  Of course being the first week of March, its way too early to speculate about any of that.  Right now I'm just extremely grateful to see the river back once more.  Although it never left, its sometimes easy to forget that it was there all along.  In January, it got so cold that the river froze all the way across, something it doesn't do every year.  For a few weeks, it was just a frozen wasteland, and seeing a polar bear trotting along its edge wouldn't have looked out of place.

  The story of the Colorado River for 2025 has yet to be written, but its a tale I look forward to having some small, supporting role in.  The river is awake and alive and laughing again, as soon we'll be while floating, swimming, fishing or just sitting beside it.

  Jack Bombardier