Monday, August 10, 2026

Mid-Summer Report, or Too Low, Too Warm, Too Dirty

To All,

 
We're more than halfway through the summer of 2026, and after a pretty boring start things have finally gotten interesting, (in a Chinese curse sort of way).  

  During the first part of the rafting season, the Lower Upper Colorado River was too low to float a boat down. This was due to the second lousy snow year in a row, and water providers not wanting to release a drop more of water than legally obligated to. I've been living beside the river for over twenty years, and have only seen it go as low as 400 cfs once.  This spring, it got below that several times, and I saw rocks in the river that I never knew existed. 

Below Pinball at those levels, I couldn't get my big cataraft through. I was able salvage a couple of trips by making them half days, and just going from Derby Junction and taking out at Pinball.  It was a little frustrating to deal with knowing that there was water being held back upriver in various reservoirs. But this is one of the things that make this stretch of the Colorado River so special - it lies above the demands made by the Shoshone hydro plant, the Grand Valley, and other irrigators. But it's also below the many buckets holding the precious liquid above.  When water gets sent down the river, it has to flow right past my backyard to get to wherever its going.

The second most senior water right controlling the river's flow is the Shoshone call, which is for 1,250 cfs at Dotsero and dates back to 1905. 
(The oldest is the Cameo call, which is for the Grand Valley ditch downstream). This trumps every water right held by the Front Range. But the Shoshone call is also satisfied by the Eagle River, which due to minimal storage upriver had a fairly normal looking annual hydrograph. The flows of the Eagle look much like they would have been before the era of dam building.  It does have Homestake Reservoir on it to capture flows from the Sawatch mountains, but most of that water goes to Colorado Springs. The Eagle can get very high in the spring, but very low in the summer. By contrast, all of the reservoirs on the Colorado River have the effect of smoothing that hydrograph out.  We may not get the high spring flows we should, but come July and August when the water finally gets released it gives us a navigable river when every other river in the state becomes too low for boating.  Those reservoirs are what created the outstanding trout fishery we enjoy today, even when factoring in the amount of water getting sent east to the Front Range. 

This year the Eagle peaked early, and held up well for awhile. As a result, the Colorado River remained lower than usual since the Shoshone number was satisfied by the Eagle. The low water in the Colorado made it warmer than usual for late spring, and also promoted the growth of algae and river grasses.  This effect is something we're still dealing with even as the Colorado's level rose when the Eagle dropped. Waterways getting choked by algae and grass is something I've been seeing all over, even at higher altitudes where it's usually not an issue. Last week I was up at Piney Lake for my monthly trip, and the creek below the lake was too low and choked with bright green algae to even fish.  Its something I've never seen up there before. There are also some private ponds that I get to see while doing propane deliveries, and they look the same way.  Usually during warm summers when the rivers get too warm for fishing, anglers can find places to do it at higher elevations. But this year, even those refuges are experiencing their own challenges. Today I spent an hour in the river ripping out river grass by hand, which isn't the worst job to do when its almost a hundred degrees out.  I've got to remove it before the ice forms this winter, or it ruins it for ice skating later. I jump into the river at least once a day anyway, especially after an afternoon of driving a non-air conditioned propane truck.  After all, if the Colorado River is your backyard, who needs air conditioning?

  After a relatively quiet spring, things got more interesting once the Colorado River came up and everyone started getting out on it. The first river mishap occurred on the Fourth of July, as some boaters running past the Red Dirt Bridge decided to go river left. Their raft got hung up and pinned against a rock near the lefthand pylon, and a couple of women went for an unplanned swim.  They ended up on a rocky shoal about a hundred feet from the bridge, and spent a long time there apparently waiting for the Coast Guard helicopter to come pluck them off.  Even though the level of the river between them and safety wasn't that deep, they remained there until the folks from Gypsum Fire showed up with their swiftwater gear and a pretty sweet little raft to pluck them off. Then the rescue crew went a step further, winching the raft up from the bridge deck and freeing it from the rock it was stuck on.  Well done! 

Then last week a friend of mine took his wooden dory down the left channel below Red Dirt, or tried to, and got stuck.  I spent most of that Friday afternoon crossing and re-crossing some really thick vegetation to attach ropes from his boat to his winch, all to no avail as the ropes kept breaking.  In the end, I had to go pick up his partner and yellow lab in a ducky because the dog refused to get into the river and rejoin us on the other side.  It was definitely the most waterphobic labrador I've ever seen. 

A week after that, we finally got the monsoon weather that everyone's been hoping for during this long, hot spring. On late Monday afternoon, a small intense storm cell that the canyon section is known for struck.  The dry wash at Jack Flats was temporarily not so dry, and a tremendous amount of wood got blown into the river. Along with that was a huge alluvial fan of dirt and large stones which now block half the river channel. The upside is that a really nice wave has been created by it, for all the water that used to span the river is now being squeezed into a much smaller channel.  I've been calling the new river feature the Jack Flats Wave, its so perfect it looks like it was engineered for a water park.  

Further down the river, Posey Creek (which is also normally dry) also blew out, and it also choked off half the historic river channel there as well. In addition to what came out of Posey, much of the wood that came down the river from Jack Flats got snagged by the debris field and the railroad bridge. What a mess it created. That night, I could see along the drive home that the river had turned bright red, not an unusual occurrence during our summer monsoons.  But what made this storm stand out was the incredible amount of woody debris in the river. In over twenty years of living next to the "Lower Upper" Colorado River I've never seen anything like it.  There was so much floating past my backyard that it looked as though I could walk across the river like everyone's favorite Jewish carpenter.  

 I drove up the River Road to see where it was all coming from.  At the Red Dirt Bridge, there was not only wood, rocks, and red mud spewing into the river, but a wooden bridge with a couple of ATVs attached to it was wedged between the two bridges.  One was upside down and submerged, and the other high and dry and looking like it was ready to go for a ride. Then I went further up the road, and noticed that above Jack Flats that the river was perfectly clear. So I hiked over to where I could get a better look at Jack Flats from the opposite hill, and it was almost unrecognizable. The eddy above it had even more floating wood than my backyard did.  

But the crazy thing was how fast the river cleaned itself out. In two days, it had cleared up pretty well and the river looked like a river again. Then on Thursday morning, on the drive up the road I noticed some Union Pacific service trucks near the bridge.  I stopped to see what they were doing, and noticed they were using grappling hooks attached to their winch to rip out some of the wood stacked up above the bridge pylon.  Below the road bridge, there were logs all scattered all over the river pinned to rocks, some of which were encroaching on the limited pathways through. The night before, that part of the river was clear. Now, there were numerous obstructions potentially creating issues for anyone in a boat. I pointed this out to the Union Pacific supervisor, and he didn't seem too worried about whatever problems they might be creating on the river.   After all, once the wood was away from the bridge it was no longer their problem. He told me that the river would come up, and lift the wood away.  I told him that this was true, but that it wouldn't happen until May 2028.  He raised his eyebrows at that, so I told him that we were at least two snowy winters away from having a decent runoff on the Colorado River again. Our water bank account is going to be dry by November, and it will take more than just one good winter to get it back into the black. 

A couple of days later, I attached some old tires to the front of my dory, and ran the river trying to knock as many pieces of wood out of harm's way I could. I wasn't very successful, but it was fun to float a river with some new features not seen before in any of my hundreds of previous runs. 

So now that the rains have finally come, and the river has gone from being too low to float, then too warm to fish, to now offcolor and dirty. Its begun to look like a lost summer, fishing-wise at least. There are some high mountain lakes still in play. Last week I fished on Rock Creek near Gore Pass, and the water was still cold and deep enough for trout there. I'm sure there are other places to fish, but one will have to be creative to find them!

  If you still want to fish from the comfort of a boat, there is a nearby lake I rowed yesterday that I really enjoyed. Stillwater fishing is not usually my jam, I strongly prefer the sights and sounds of moving water.  Presenting a fly to a rising fish with a nice cast and a better mend and a perfect drift is the heart and soul of fly fishing, at least to me. Stillwater fishing is just not as compelling.  But this lake is my personal favorite, and if going for a float on it in my dory sounds interesting to you, reach out and I'll tell you more. 

What we're experiencing now is almost exactly what I envisioned would unfold back when I was skiing in that gorgeous May weather back in March.  As nice as it was to be spring skiing in a light jacket that early, it was obvious we would have to pay for that. In March the snowpack disappeared faster than I'd ever seen it go, and I knew that only a very wet spring would save the river. Of course, we ended up with just the opposite. But even though this is what I thought would happen, seeing it all unfold is a reality that's hard to watch. 

Today was a brutally hot summer day, and to cool off I took my little 8' pontoon boat down the river from Pinball to my backyard.  It was so much fun riding the Jack Flats Wave, that after running it I carried my boat back up to the top and ran it again. It might be the most beautiful wave I've ever seen. On the TikTok video I posted of it I call the the Angelina Jolie of waves, and if you see it you'll know exactly what I mean. 

So although the summer doesn't look too promising for fishing, September is coming, along with cooler weather and cooler water. The ability of the river to heal itself never fails to amaze me.  Also the potential of this winter to deliver some meaningful snowfall looks very promising. Maybe if enough people keep imagining heavy snowfall we can collectively manifest that result. One good winter isn't going to dig us out of the hole we find ourselves in, but its where we start.  I'm looking forward to the big water we'll have to play in come May, 2028!

Jack Bombardier

Ps, if anyone wants to see videos of some of these things I've described I've put a lot of stuff up on TikTiok under my name.
Also believe it or not this email was going to be a lot longer, but I cut a big chunk out and will be sending some of that out soon under a different title

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