The Colorado River Water Crisis

The Colorado River Basin

The Colorado River stretches more than 1,400 miles from its headwaters in the Rocky Mountains of Wyoming and Colorado to the Gulf of California in Mexico. Its basin spans seven U.S. states — Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, and California — as well as the Mexican states of Sonora and Baja California. The river is divided into an Upper Basin and Lower Basin, separated by Lee Ferry in northern Arizona.

The basin’s two largest reservoirs, Lake Powell on the Utah-Arizona border and Lake Mead on the Nevada-Arizona border, serve as the primary storage and delivery infrastructure for the river system. Water from the Colorado also reaches beyond the basin’s natural boundaries — supplying cities along Colorado’s Front Range, the Los Angeles metropolitan area, and agricultural valleys in Southern California through a network of aqueducts and diversion projects.

Map: U.S. Bureau of Reclamation map of the Colorado River Basin accessed on October 15, 2024.

The Reporter’s View: Brett Walton

The Colorado River is struggling mightily. Record-smashing heat this year and a lack of snow have exposed longstanding vulnerabilities in how the river is managed. The entire system is under severe stress right now. There simply is not enough water to satisfy all of the river’s many uses – from farm irrigation and municipal drinking water to endangered species, tribes, rafting companies, high-tech industries, and hydropower. The big question, still unanswered, is how to match supply and demand as the basin grows even hotter and drier in the coming years.

Mina Guli, an ultramarathon runner and global water advocate, is running the length of the Colorado River to bring attention to the river’s decline, and to tell stories along the way. We’ll be posting periodic personal dispatches from Mina as she runs for 100 days — from the source in the Rocky Mountains to the hot desert where the river runs dry. Learn more about the run at “Keep the River Running.” Images: Keep the River Running/Andrew King

Running the River: Babylon Fire From 75km

When we began our campaign to show the world what’s at stake in the Colorado River basin, I knew it was going to be hard: a 2,000 mile run in 100 days through scorching temperatures and steep terrain. But what we’ve encountered on the ground is even more demanding than I imagined.

We can smell and taste the smoke from the wildfires around us. The sky is red at night. And in the day, the sun is red. Just 21 days into my run, we’re already on our third re-route – first due to the Snyder Fire, and then due to the Babylon Fire – now more than 100,000 acres, so big it’s creating its own weather system. Just yesterday,  we were going to try circumventing the fires by packrafting the Green River, but it was too swollen, due to water releases designed to prop up one of the Colorado River’s dwindling reservoirs, Lake Powell.

We see statistics and news reports about droughts and wild fires all the time. There are many out there right now about the dozens of fires in the Colorado River Basin. But it’s another thing to experience first-hand the visceral consequences of this river’s plight on communities, ecosystems and economies.

Thanks to my incredible support team, we’ll be able to change my path to avoid the fires. But there are small towns, cattle ranches and farms that can’t just change course the way we can. Their situation is a stark reminder of how the basin’s parched condition is making life tougher for people on the ground.

The Green River’s surging water is also a sign of how complex water management has become. Even as its flow goes to replenish Lake Powell, Lake Powell’s water is already needed elsewhere:  “Super Scooper” planes are drawing on its water to douse the fires, and there’s recent talk of draining it to replenish Lake Mead, the even larger reservoir downstream created by Hoover Dam.

These experiences haven’t discouraged me. Quite the opposite, I feel an even deeper sense of duty to share what I’m experiencing here with everyone I can. And so tomorrow, I keep running. The detour doesn’t change the destination — it just makes the point harder to miss.

July 14, 2026

It’s only Day 23 of my 100-day run down the Colorado River – but it’s also the day my partners and I cross a major finish line.

Today, we’re excited to announce the publication of “State of the Basin Report: A Guide to the Colorado River Crisis.”

We refer to this deep dive into the West’s water crisis as “SOBR” for a reason.

It’s the first report to reveal the full extent of the problem: the region’s “mega-drought” is actually a long term trend towards a drier, hotter climate – with 16 million jobs and $1.4 trillion in annual economic activity at stake. Reservoirs along the river are at record lows, and Hoover Dam’s ability to generate power this fall is at risk.

But I’m not out here running 2,000 miles down a river just to show there’s a problem.

I’m here to show we can tackle it, together. That’s what makes this report different from all the others you’ll read.

We’ve found there’s a path forward –  and it’s available to everyone. Cities, farmers, Tribes, tech companies, hikers, campers, river rafters – everyone who’s affected by the Colorado River needs to read this report, and know they’re not alone. In fact, it’s only by coming together that we can really do something about it.

There are incredible projects going on that build long-term water resilience into this region, and as I continue my run, we’re going to use this report to discuss just how to do that – at summits in Phoenix, Las Vegas and Los Angeles, and at a final gathering in New York.

SOBR is already the result of extraordinary teamwork, thanks to the generous support of the Walton Family Foundation, my own non-profit Thirst Foundation and water solutions company GRUNDFOS. It draws on data from the Water Resilience Coalition and conversations with groups including American Rivers, National Audubon Society, Bonneville Environmental Foundation (BEF), Earth Finance, Trout Unlimited and Water & Tribes Initiative.

But the collaboration doesn’t end there. My journey isn’t about tracing the path of a dwindling river. It’s about using this run to show we can do hard things together.

We can still save this river. But only if we act now.

July 15, 2026

Does the Colorado River reach the ocean? It’s one of the many questions I get asked when people hear I’m running its entire length – a journey of around 2,000 miles.

The honest answer is: barely, if ever.

For millions of years, it did flow from source to sea — feeding a lush delta that sustained Indigenous nations and marine ecosystems. But today it’s become a dry, salty desert.

And this summer, its devastation is deepening. Our new State of the Basin Report, published yesterday, conveys the hard facts:

→ River flows are down 20% since 2000 vs. 20th-century averages
→ Rocky Mountain snowpack was just 17% of normal as of May 2026, a historic record low
→ Lake Powell and Lake Mead are at less than a third their capacities
→ Hoover Dam could produce 40% less power this fall

Chances are, we’ll never get back the Colorado River we once had. But I’m not out here running this river because the situation is hopeless – on the contrary, this report looks at how we can move through the challenges of this crisis and build solutions, together.

That’s why I’m going to end my run not where the river once ran to the ocean, but in the cities and communities that depend on it.

So where does the Colorado River end? The truth is, it doesn’t have a single ending any more. Over the past century, we’ve diverted its water to farms, towns and cities across the American West and into Mexico. It now ends in many places, including in Los Angeles, where I’ll finish my run.

The real question isn’t whether the Colorado River reaches the ocean – it’s where we want its water to go, based on our shared priorities.

(Download the report here)

July 20, 2026

On day one, high in the Rockies, we went looking for the source of the Colorado River. And we found it — a muddy hole barely 12 inches across, feeding the faintest trickle of a stream. That trickle goes on to support 40 million people. It’s an image I want you to burn into your mind as you consider the Colorado River crisis.

I’m so grateful to the Walton Family Foundation for telling this story and for their long-term commitment to a healthier, more resilient Colorado River. Our new “State of the Basin” report, generously supported by Walton, lays out the stakes clearly: an estimated $1.4 trillion in GDP and 16 million jobs depend on getting what we do with that trickle of water right.

It’s not going to be easy – but that’s why I’ll just keep saying it: we can do hard things. I don’t love running. I’m slow, I get scared, I fall on trails. But I keep going, because if not me, then who?

As I run 2,000 miles this summer along the length of the Colorado, I’m determined to make the stories of the people I make heard. By bearing witness to how water scarcity is affecting their daily lives, I make it hard for leaders to look me in the eye and say that solving these problems is too hard.

July 21, 2026

This one river has inspired me to run 2,000 miles – and engage in countless conversations.

I’m excited to share one of them, which recently aired as part of Hannah Weaver‘s piece about hashtag#KeeptheRiverRunning on Aspen Public Radio.

My run isn’t about an athletic feat, it’s about the urgency of the water crisis faced by 40 million people, and the way I can raise their voices. In Glenwood Springs, I ran alongside a local physical therapist who’s watched water shortages reshape entire communities. In Utah, I’ve met river guides forced to change careers and locals who’ve seen tourism dry up along with Lake Powell.

The answer to this crisis doesn’t lie behind closed doors, where the Trump administration is finalising a federal framework to govern the river. And it’s not in dividing an ever-decreasing pie. What we need is creative solutions – like those identified in our recent State of the Basin Report, and those that can come from people who are out there living with this drought every day.

I’m going to carry every conversation I can straight to the people negotiating this river’s future. So please – even if I don’t meet you along the trail, reach me here, and share your own water story.

July 23, 2026

Today I enter “the cauldron” – what I’m calling the particularly hot, difficult stretch of my run around Lees Ferry and as I travel down into the Lower Basin.

We’ll hike often at night to avoid the worst of the heat, carrying everything we need on our backs, and tracking the weather relentlessly. I can’t decide which I dread more, the heat advisories or the flash flood warnings. This is going to be the toughest, most physically and logistically challenging stretch of this entire expedition.

But it’s also one of the most significant.

Lees Ferry is the exact place where the 1922 Colorado River Compact divided the river between the Upper and Lower Basin, allocating 7.5 million acre-feet of water a year to each. It’s incredible to me that the way the river is governed today is still shaped by a decision made more than 100 years ago.

The challenge is that those allocations were based on an unusually wet period, and the river hasn’t delivered those flows since. That mismatch sits at the heart of many of the challenges facing the Colorado River Basin today, as we explore in our recent State of the Basin Report.

As I pass through this landscape, a new chapter is being written. Right now, leaders from across the Basin are negotiating how the river should be managed going forward.

Regardless of what’s decided, I want people to see what I see along these 2,000 miles and understand that the solutions don’t lie behind closed doors – they also lie with everyone who depends on this river.

The Colorado River can’t be sustained by a single framework or a single solution. The way we value, share and protect its water has to be a collective decision.

July 27, 2026

Some days on this river are harder than others. A bridge just collapsed on a stretch of the river in Arizona due to wildfire. A tributary I had to cross was flooded.

Right now, I’m in the stretch where the miles pile up faster than the recovery does, where my body is asking questions my mind doesn’t have great answers for. That’s the honest version of this campaign — not just the summits with business leaders in a comfortable room, or smiling photos of me with my team, keeping our spirits up on the trail.

What’s kept me going this week is something simpler: people are actually telling this story. Journalists are calling. Communities along the route are sharing what the river means to them, on the record, in print, on air.

That matters more than people realize. You can run every mile of a dying river, convene every stakeholder, hold every summit — and if no one is telling that story, it’s a tree falling in a forest with no one there to hear it.

So to everyone who’s picked up the phone, asked the hard questions, and put this in front of readers: thank you. You’re the reason this isn’t happening in silence.

July 28, 2026

When we headed out for our run at 00:30 it was still 91 degrees.

We descended into hotter and hotter temperatures until we hit the Colorado River — our safety, our lifeline, and the only way we could cool down in the excrutiating heat that radiates off the walls of the Grand Canyon. I’ve entered the most difficult stretch of my run – and it’s living up to its threat. The same extreme heat warning in Arizona is in effect across the Grand Canyon, with temperatures in some places pushing up to 116°F.

Even as I switch to hiking at night on these trails, I feel both extremes at once — the punishing heat above, and the fragile, shrinking river below me. It’s impossible not to think about what we’re doing to the systems that sustain us, and sometimes feels like they’re turning against us.

I’m not the only one dealing with extreme weather right now. Just as my team helps me keep in touch with the world, they also keeps me on a news drip: I can see Lake Mead and Lake Powell’s water crisis is finally making headlines across the US; record-breaking wildfires are burning across Europe and North America; flash flood warnings are hitting the Northeastern US.

Some people might see the Colorado River’s crisis as just one more disaster. The world is full of them right now. So why fixate on this one? Many people ask why I’m running this river, including through it’s most treacherous stretches?

Because water is where we feel it first. Before the headlines catch up, before the policies shift, the river already knows. And it sends us signals. We can’t turn our back on these extremes, we need to heed them, as warnings. And find the strength and team spirit to face them, together.

This is why I run. Not despite the heat, but because of what it’s telling us.

July 31, 2026 

The Colorado River Plan we’ve all been waiting for is here.

The federal government’s plans to manage the Western US’s dwindling water supply, including Lake Mead and Lake Powell – is laid out in a few news stories this morning. Arizona, California and Nevada will take less water under a proposal to stave off the region’s water crisis.

The proposal from the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation spares Colorado, Utah, New Mexico and Wyoming from facing mandatory cuts for now. But it’s a temporary fix. And the headlines are focused on cuts and shortages.

I want to offer another angle, from where I’m standing.

Deep into my 2,000 mile run, in the most dangerous stretch of the Grand Canyon, the heat is hardly dissipating – even when we leave at 1am at night.  There is no doubt that the Colorado River Basin is becoming hotter and drier. But the solution doesn’t have to be about less water, and more cutbacks.

In Australia, we lived through the Millennium Drought. We genuinely didn’t know if we’d have enough water in our driest years. But we came through it — by investing in infrastructure, restoring wetlands, and rethinking how we manage water at every level. I’ve seen the same turnaround in other hot, dry places I’ve run through around the world.

The Colorado Basin can get there too.

So I urge people to look beyond the breaking news headlines today – great stories in The Washington Post Sarah Kaplan Hannah Knowles The Associated Press The New York Times Scott Dance

We need to think not about what’s been lost, but how we get through this. The blueprint already exists, as shown in our State of the Basin Report: https://lnkd.in/eNt6EgDH

Read past this week’s headlines. The heat is real. So is the way through it.

August 5, 2026

I try to spend as much time talking to people on my 2,000-mile run as I can.

Back in the early days, just after I left Denver, I met someone truly exceptional – Byron Kominek, the owner of Jack’s Solar Garden.

Byron turned his Grandpa Jack’s family farm from one that was struggling into a massive site with more than 3,000 solar panels generating enough power to support hundreds of homes.

But the panels aren’t the point. What’s growing underneath them is.

Jack’s Solar Garden is researching “agrivoltaics” – the practice of adding solar panels to agricultural fields. Shade cast by the solar panels keeps plants cooler and saves water, while evaporated moisture from the plants helps prevent the solar panels from overheating, helping them produce more energy.

It’s one of those rare win-wins identified in our State of the Basin Report. Studies have already shown real benefits – adding solar panels to fields can improve water use efficiency by 20–47%, and lower air and soil temperatures by a few degrees or more. “Animal agrivoltaics” are also being used to shade livestock. It’s actually a triple win if you consider that in some places, solar panels are simply replacing agricultural land outright, reducing our ability to grow crops.

But like so many promising approaches, the challenge is proving it at scale – and figuring out how to finance widespread adoption.

Standing under those panels, seeing the plants green the fields, I felt so much hope for the future of the Colorado River Basin. From the parched landscape of the Grand Canyon where I’ve been running through gruelling heat, it feels even more like a dream.

I want to ask everyone in the finance world who follows this kind of work to ask themselves: what would it take to make dreams like this real?

Do we need more research? Creative financial instruments? Or do we just need to start investing? We’re a culture that stretches towards moonshots – pouring our creativity and capital into high-risk, high-reward goals. How about some good old-fashioned “silver buckshot?” (that’s the Western saying for a collection of small solutions that can solve something big).

These aren’t rhetorical questions. As my run ends this fall, we’re eager to identify the best solutions, and figure out what it takes to finance them.

August 12, 2026

I’m about to cross a key mental finish line: Las Vegas.

When I arrive at that dazzling oasis in the desert by the end of this week, we’ll hold the second summit of our campaign, and discuss approaches to the Colorado River’s water crisis – like how this city of 680,000 people manages to recycle almost 100% of its water.

After running more than 1,000 miles in 50 days, the city seems almost like a mirage. Just yesterday I had to tuck myself under a tiny tree, hiding away from temperatures of 49° Celsius – more than 120° Fahrenheit. The heat has a brutal impact on the body, and the brain. It’s miraculous that the desert I’ve just run through has given rise to so many dynamic cities – and there’s only one reason it’s possible: water.

So when I sit down (finally! In a chair! In a cool conference room!) on August 14th to work on solving this water crisis, I have one wish:

What happens in Vegas, shouldn’t stay in Vegas.

The plans generated around a conference table simply can’t stay there. We need everyone to know every trick in the book when it comes to protecting our most precious resource.

August 18, 2026

The river broke my heart. Even as someone who thinks strategically about solving our water crises, I’m determined to confront their emotional dimension head on.

And over the last 50 days I’ve run more than 1300 miles down the length of the Colorado River, the things I’ve witnessed have moved me to tears.

High in the Rocky Mountains, local families showed me pictures of the green fields I’d just run through – covered with snow this same time of year.

At Lake Powell a waitress told us boaters used to drive up to the restaurant for a quick drink in the afternoon. Hard to fathom, looking out at the water, more than 175 feet below us.

At Glen Canyon Dam, we learned operators are close to shutting down the facilities – because they’re almost at minimum power pool – a trigger that may halt power generation for millions of customers. And when I ran alongside Lake Mead toward the Hoover Dam, I saw how much the white bathtub rings had grown since my previous visits.

Again and again, I’ve seen conditions far worse than the headlines had prepared me for. But there have also been real moments of optimism – farmers and conservation experts building long-term strength into the river basin.

August 21, 2026

A proposal to cut back use of the Colorado River’s water is now official as of today. The US government just finalized its guidelines, and drove home the stark reality: the West’s most important reservoirs, Lake Powell and Lake Mead, have hit new record lows.

To achieve targets, Lower Basin states have to tighten water use considerably:

Arizona: 760,000 acre-feet 
California: 440,000 acre-feet 
Nevada: 50,000 acre-feet

But a signed guideline doesn’t put water back in the river.

Cutback targets only work if we achieve them in ways that build long-term resilience: infrastructure upgrades, accelerated agricultural efficiency programs, municipal reuse and recycling, and serious investment to make every solution that works operate at scale.

Today’s guidelines set a bar, and the opportunity to reach for it — they are not a finish line.

But a signed guideline doesn’t put water back in the river. Cutback targets on paper only become resilience on the ground if we pair them with action: accelerated agricultural efficiency programs, municipal reuse and recycling at scale, smart fallowing that protects farm communities instead of hollowing them out, and serious investment in desalination and conveyance where it makes sense.

The guidelines give the Basin a two-year runway and room for states to reach their own consensus. That’s an opportunity, not a finish line. The hard work — turning acre-feet on a page into acre-feet actually saved — starts now.

The Colorado River doesn’t need another framework. It needs follow-through.

Forget Western Water War: Local Managers Choose Partnership

Collaboration keeps water flowing.

The Colorado River, from one viewpoint, is a mess. The iconic waterway, fundamental to the region’s modern existence – its desert metropolises, its high-tech industries, its agriculture, and its recreation economy – is on the verge of crashing. A two-decade drying trend, aided by carbon pollution in the atmosphere and water use that exceeds supply…

Native American tribes came together to secure their rights to Colorado River water. 4 states are stalling the deal

Betting on Lake Mead’s Demise

An online prediction market offers wagers on a shrinking Lake Mead.

Hoover Dam Approaches a Hydropower Cliff

Big cuts in generating capacity are coming.

As a Colorado Aquifer Runs Low, Dangerous Heavy Metals Threaten Rural Communities’ Drinking Water

In the San Luis Valley, the ongoing megadrought and a record-low snowpack are draining groundwater and increasing its concentrations of toxic metals. There are few protections for residents drinking from private wells.

Glen Canyon Dam Faces Its Existential Moment

Iconic structure becomes Colorado River’s biggest water chokepoint.

U.S. Government Orders Emergency Actions to Protect Glen Canyon Dam

Extraordinary moves in the struggling Colorado River basin could prompt historic lawsuits.

As the West’s Scant Snowpack Melts, Coloradans Brace for a Lean Water Year

Record-high spring temperatures are worrying skiers, ranchers and water managers.

In Search of ‘Earned Hope’ on the Colorado River: A Conversation with Photographer Pete McBride

New book details McBride’s lifelong love affair with his “backyard river.”

Big Decisions Loom for a Rapidly Shrinking Lake Powell

Reclamation considers actions to prop up the Colorado River’s second-largest reservoir.

Western U.S. Cities Open Wallets in Quest for Water

Supply declines, drought risk, population growth push cities to seek new water sources.

Massive Energy Storage Project Eyed for Four Corners Region

Colorado River water could enable a pumped storage hydropower project intended to make the region’s electric grid more resilient.

The Year in Water, 2025 – Power Shift

Follow Circle of Blue’s Colorado River reporting across the basin — from the headwaters in the Rocky Mountains to the river’s end near the Gulf of California. Our interactive StoryMap places each story in its geographic context, letting you explore the crisis location by location.

New to StoryMaps? It’s a simple interactive map — just click the “Start Exploring” button below to begin. Use the arrows to move from location to location, or click directly on the map to jump to a specific site.

Circle of Blue journalists are also photographers, documenting the Colorado River basin firsthand — from receding shorelines and exposed canyon walls to the communities and infrastructure that depend on the river’s flow. The images below are original Circle of Blue photography. Click on an image to enlarge it.

Interested in using or republishing these photos? Please credit Circle of Blue appropriately and link back to this page. Contact izzy@circleofblue.org with any questions.