Tour Notes IX: Drought

"Where's the water?" Matt asked as we crossed the ditch that was supposed to be the Rio Grande just south of Las Cruces. Apparently, the orchards of New Mexico are taking the last of it. El Paso Texas? Fuck El Paso. Not that Texas is going to take this lying down. They have been known to cut off gas heading up to New Mexico in retaliation. Water Wars have always been a part of the politics of the American Southwest. Arizona and California fighting over the Colorado... which often dries up before reaching the Sea of Cortez. Colorado, New Mexico and Texas fighting over the Rio Grande... which has also disappeared into the sand a few years back. This is only going to get worse. I cannot understand climate change "debate". There was no "debate" all those years ago in grade school when I first learned about the "greenhouse effect". It's fucking science. There isn't any debate in the Southwest. I am a fly on the wall in the bars and cafes as I tour through this country. Take a seat in any bar or cafe in New Mexico... Southwest Texas... Colorado... Arizona... chances are you will overhear some folks talking about drought. It doesn't matter whether you are in the liberal or conservative parts of those states. They are all talking about how the rivers are low... the snowpack down... the chances of another catastrophic fire season high. Nearly every year it is the same. You might overhear some of the old timers talk about the way things were. The epic snowstorms. The wet monsoons. The floods. Those days are long gone and they know it. I spent a few days with a lovely cowgirl in Arroyo Seco New Mexico. By "cowgirl", I mean it in the real sense. I watched her with her still wild horses. If they kick at her she kicks back. She put me on one of her more gentle horses, Charlotte. "The Unicorn" she calls it. I suppose that it is fitting I should ride the unicorn... or rather... try to ride her. It has been many years since I have been on a horse. Just a few miles north, Colorado has cut the Rio Grande down to a mere trickle. My new friend here wonders when the Great Migrations will begin. I think everyone hear senses deep down that this drought could last generations. "Follow our barefooted friend" said our guide. I had somehow gotten ahead of the rest of the group touring "The Grand Palace" in Mesa Verde National Park. There was once a large thriving community up here. Then, many centuries ago, they suddenly disappeared. No one knows why for certain. Their descendants only say: "It was time to leave." The Hopi people continue to this day to look for the Center of the World... where they belong. Almost all the old stories speak of a "Promised Land". I believe we found it. It is just that we broke our end of the bargain. Throughout America you can hear the warnings... the canaries in the coal mine... their ominous songs fill the air if you are willing to listen. And we should listen. It might not be too long before this drought that the farmers and ranchers have been dealing with for decades starts to threaten the big cities too... Tucson... Albuquerque... Phoenix... Los Angeles. And what about the drought that hit the Midwest last summer? Our bread basket. The Song of Drought is one of many ominous songs in America today. What about the Song of Detroit? All those songs from the ruins of our Great Industrial Past... warning us that we are being left behind... that our American Way of Life is obsolete. As our fields turn to dust and our industry fades to rust, how long before we listen? Forget what they tell you. That climate change is a hoax. That we can save ourselves by drilling the seas and fracturing the land. That the market is up. How are you?