Herbert Hoover once said, “Next to prayer, fishing is the most personal relationship of man.” There’s something about fly-fishing for trout that brings out everyone’s inner poet. Many books have been written on the subject. Probably because fly-fishing is a lot like reading, with the river being the pen that writes down the words.
I’m pretty terrible with a fly rod. I’m guaranteed to snag my line on any willow within a 2-mile radius. My husband goes fly-fishing; I go line-untangling. But it’s an excuse to stand next to a river.
Living near Granby, I jog beside the Fraser River. There’s a bend in the river I know by sound where the water pours over stones. Here in the evenings, ducks glide and trout rise. A blue heron flies overhead. The river runs big, cold and deep. It’s idyllic. Unfortunately, things for the Fraser aren’t so great upstream.
More than half of the Fraser River in the Fraser Valley is diverted by the Denver Water Board. Sucking water from more than 20 tributaries, Denver Water funnels around 16 billion gallons of water a year through the Moffat Tunnel for use on the Front Range.
And Denver Water wants more. It’s calling for an additional 5 billion gallons from the Fraser in a proposed expansion of the Moffat collection system. In response, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers is preparing an environmental impact statement, due this winter. Advocates for the river, and the towns of Fraser and Winter Park, anxiously await the results.
The Fraser River Diversion System is a conglomeration of concrete and steel pipes, tunnels, siphons and canals. Take a walk up the Jim Creek trail near Winter Park and you can hear the stream bubbling downhill. But back at the trail head, the stream abruptly stops – sucked dry at the diversion point.
It’s hard to get a true picture of how much water is being taken and how much is left in the Fraser. Depends on who you ask, and where you take your measurement. But it doesn’t take a scientist to see that the river is hurting.
This summer, parts of the river warmed to 65 degrees and above. Fishermen were urged to carry thermometers and not to fish if the temperature was 65 degrees or higher. Optimum temperature for trout is 55 degrees, and catch-and-release in warmer waters stresses the fish.
Sediment is another problem plaguing the Fraser. With so much water diverted, the river has lost its spring flushing flow. Denver Water takes its water from the highest, most upstream portions of the Fraser, and siphons off the most water in the spring, a time when the snow melt ensures there’s lots of water in the river. But the river needs high seasonal flows to flush contaminants.
The Colorado Department of Transportation uses 6,000 tons of traction sand between October and May within the uppermost reach of the river. Much of the sand collects in the Fraser along U.S. 40 near Winter Park Resort. More sediment and higher water temperatures create an ideal environment for weeds and algae. To spawn, brown trout need a rocky river bottom, which is becoming harder to find.
With so much water going to Denver, the towns of Fraser and Winter Park are faced with growth limits because they can’t guarantee water for new development.
Last year, American Rivers, a Washington, D.C., advocacy group, listed the Fraser at No. 3 on its 10 most endangered rivers list. The Fraser runs at or below recommended minimum flows set by the U.S. Forest Service much of the year. With even less water, the area could lose its cold-water fishery, and another headwater for the Colorado River.
In an effort to help the trout, this summer local groups reconfigured parts of the riverbed so the water runs narrower, deeper and colder. But if Denver Water takes more water, these efforts will be futile.
I suppose I can’t blame Denver Water for trying. Even as the five-year drought wanes, concern over future water shortages is growing. I read about a new study that predicts water demand will rise 53 percent by 2030 as another 2 million people move to the Front Range. I applaud Mayor John Hickenlooper and Denver Water’s plan for the city to reduce water usage by 22 percent in the next decade, but we are still facing hard questions about future water supply.
President Dwight D. Eisenhower often fished the St. Louis and Fraser rivers during the 1950s. You might have seen the old black and white photos of Ike in his fly-fishing vest. Lately, I have imagined Eisenhower’s ghost visiting his favorite fishing spots, and wondering where all the water has gone. The town of Fraser will soon erect an 8-foot statue of Eisenhower near the river. I hope the memorial doesn’t someday stand next to a dry riverbed. I don’t want to commemorate a river that once was. I want to fish a river that still is.
Gretchen Bergen can be reached at gretchenbergen@yahoo.com.
