We understand the worries of bird watchers and recreationists over the proposed expansion of Chatfield Reservoir. In fact, we share them.
Chatfield’s amenities for creatures small and large — from those powered by wings to those powered by pedals — are fairly unique in metro Denver, and it would be a shame to see them jeopardized.
Yet as the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers proceeds with a complex environmental review required to expand the reservoir on behalf of 15 metro water-user agencies, it’s important to keep in mind that Chatfield remains, first and foremost, a water storage project — as well as a facility that was designed from the outset to hold much more of the precious resource than it currently does.
As the metro area adds hundreds of thousands of new residents — and such growth is inevitable, like it or not — the need for water storage will only become more acute. Residents of a number of south metro jurisdictions already are perilously reliant on groundwater that is steadily being depleted. It would be foolish to dismiss the possibility of adding a secure supply of more than 20,000 acre-feet of water (with 1 acre-foot being roughly enough to meet the needs of two families of four for a year) if the impacts can be limited or substantially offset.
Still, we’ll reserve our final opinion of the proposal until we see the Corps’ environmental impact study, which is in the ultimate stages of preparation and which undoubtedly will spark a vibrant public debate.
As Bruce Finley reported in The Sunday Denver Post, federal authorities would like to nearly double the amount of water in the reservoir, a feat that would raise the water level by 12 feet. Among other things, the expanded reservoir would inundate 45 acres of cottonwood, willow and Russian olive groves that are a favorite haunt for a host of bird species, from nuthatches to northern flickers. Displaced birds aren’t like displaced humans. They don’t just pack up and migrate to the next grove of trees that might serve as home.
“It’ll be sad not to have [merganser diving ducks] here anymore,” said Joey Kellner, who coordinates Denver’s annual bird count. “This is one of the only places in Colorado where they breed. Who knows where they will go?”
Humans flock to Chatfield, too — for boating, swimming, camping, cycling and much more. The park boasts many miles of premier bicycle trails that have become one of the preferred training locations for serious cyclists. And its gravel pond — a smaller body of water just south of the reservoir that would be absorbed into an expanded lake — is one of only a few places in the metro area available for open-water swimming and training.
Yet many of these amenities could be replicated at an expanded reservoir, and it’s essential that local and federal officials see that they are if a plan ever gets the go-ahead.
And those acres of trees? They obviously can’t be replaced overnight. Any plan to replace trees takes years. Then again, we’re talking about fast-growing cottonwoods, not oaks, so the time frame wouldn’t be decades, either.
Remember, the present reservoir didn’t even exist until the 1970s. After three decades of rapid metro growth, it’s time to reassess its size, too.
