Tensions rose close to the boiling point early this summer amid a historic water shutoff in the Klamath Basin. Since then, irrigators in the Klamath Project have spent the growing season trying to make the most of a summer with no surface water from Upper Klamath Lake.
老夫子传媒 spoke with farmers leading up to the Klamath Water Users Association鈥檚 annual harvest tour last month. As the town of Merrill hosts the 84th annual Klamath Basin Potato Festival this weekend, JPR looks at the harvest for the Project鈥檚 driest year on record.
鈥楾here鈥檚 very little fruit to show鈥�
At the end of the summer, Ryan Kliewer, a third-generation farmer, is counting his losses.
Kliewer sits on a generator outside of an old dairy-turned-brewery on his brother鈥檚 farm in Midland, just outside of Klamath Falls. He鈥檚 holding a cold Pilsner he and his brother Ty made themselves. The brothers co-own Skyline Brewery. They opened it in 2018 as a way to supplement their uncertain farming income and as a way to decompress.
The Kliewer brothers had just hosted dozens of attendees to finish off the harvest tour that afternoon. The annual tour is an opportunity to showcase the agricultural diversity of the Klamath Basin and the bounty produced from the growing season. For Ryan Kliewer and many others, the tour this year was a chance to see innovative farming strategies up close, but more so to assess the damage.
鈥淲e usually use the fall harvest tour to showcase the food-to-table relationship so people can understand more about where their food comes from,鈥� Kliewer says. 鈥淭his year, in my case, there鈥檚 very little fruit to show.鈥�
Kliewer says the amount of hay he was able to produce this year is just enough to feed his 25 cows this winter. Kliewer has had to tell long-time hay customers, he鈥檚 sorry but has no hay to sell them. In a competitive hay market, that hurts.
鈥淚f they go somewhere else for their product, they are likely to not return 鈥� We鈥檙e fracturing our sales relationships that we鈥檝e had for decades.鈥�
Kliewer says he鈥檚 dipping into his savings from last year just to survive.
How we got here
Kliewer isn鈥檛 alone.
As climate change increasingly makes its effects felt in the region, the Klamath Basin has experienced intensifying droughts in recent decades. This has led to demands on the water in the region often exceeding the supply, placing the needs of Klamath Basin farmers, endangered fish, and downstream tribes in conflict.
This year, due to extreme drought and declining populations of endangered Lost River and shortnose sucker fish in Upper Klamath Lake, the federal Bureau of Reclamation - which controls the Klamath Project -- cut off water to irrigators in order to keep lake levels sufficiently high for the fish to survive. The main supply canal that supplies water from Upper Klamath Lake to the Klamath Project remained closed this summer, and only a handful of irrigators got any surface water for their crops.
Some ag producers were able to use groundwater to partly make up for the loss of irrigation water from the lake. Others had little or no groundwater access. But for pretty much everyone, it鈥檚 been a hard season.
鈥業 don鈥檛 know of any crop in the valley that鈥檚 going to be what it should be鈥�
Ben DuVal sits in a patio chair on his back porch in late August, looking out at the dry field adjacent to the farmhouse on the outskirts of Tulelake, near the Oregon-California border. He and his wife, Erika, farm 600 acres in Tulelake and Newell, California.
鈥淲e鈥檙e sitting on my grandfather鈥檚 original World War II homestead,鈥� DuVal says. 鈥淎fter he got out of World War II, they were draining this part of the lake and developing this area. This area had never been farmed or settled before. It was divided up into homesteads and he was in the last drawing. In 1949, he was granted this homestead.鈥�
The DuVals bought the house from his grandfather in 2003 and are the third generation to farm the land.
As president of the Klamath Water Users Association, DuVal represents more than a dozen irrigation districts in the Klamath Reclamation Project. He says many farmers are using groundwater wells to try to compensate for the lack of surface water from the canals this summer. And, he says, they鈥檙e not happy about it, not least because electricity to run well pumps is expensive.
鈥淣one of us are pumping irrigation wells because we want to. It鈥檚 because it鈥檚 the only option that we have to keep our farms and our families here,鈥� DuVal says.
Tulelake Irrigation District, DuVal鈥檚 district, is one of the only districts that has wells, though there are areas of the Project the wells can鈥檛 reach. That鈥檚 true with his property, because he's located on the outskirts of Tulelake close to Newell. Without surface water from Upper Klamath Lake or available groundwater, the field adjacent to DuVal鈥檚 family homestead is dry and dusty, instead of the usual lush, green hue.
DuVal walks out in the field, bending to pick up one of the white shells that can be seen in the soil, remnants of a time when all these fields were under the water of Tule Lake, before it was drained at the beginning of the 20th Century.
鈥淭hat field鈥檚 growing nothing and you can鈥檛 pay mortgages with crops that aren鈥檛 growing,鈥� DuVal says. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know of any crop in the valley that鈥檚 going to be what it should be.鈥�
The alfalfa and wheat he was able to grow this summer are thanks to friends who donated their groundwater to his operation, since he doesn鈥檛 have his own well.
鈥淪ome of my neighbors at times, they probably shorted their own crops because they were pumping water for me,鈥� DuVal says. 鈥淭here鈥檚 no way I could have made it through this year without neighbors helping me out.鈥�
That kind of cooperation is more than just a silver lining on a year like this; it's a way to hold on. While appreciative of the donated water and federal relief funding programs, DuVal acknowledges it鈥檚 not a long-term solution.
鈥淚t doesn鈥檛 cover the mortgage, taxes, and my irrigation assessment, which you have to pay even if you don鈥檛 get water,鈥� he says.
DuVal says this year has been worse than the water shutoff in 2001, the last time federal water managers severely cut back on irrigation allotments to preserve water for endangered fish.
鈥淭o a degree, we鈥檝e recovered since 2001 but this year is definitely taking us back to that place 鈥� The impacts of this are going to be long and far-reaching.鈥�
鈥楢ll my friends that are farmers, we鈥檙e beat鈥�
Scotty Fenters drives his pickup down a road next to one of his potato fields in Malin, on the California border, in mid-September. Fenters is a member of a potato packing shed in addition to farming his own operation.
Stepping out of the pickup, he kneels in the dirt and unearths a handful of reddish fingerling potatoes.
Fenters expects 鈥渕ediocre鈥� crops for his own personal operation, due to heat and smoke, and says he鈥檒l be grateful to break even financially. He counts himself lucky for the yield he can produce after a year like this.
Fenters says that despite the lack of surface irrigation water, his operation has so far been able to farm 80% of what he normally would due to the use of groundwater wells.
Smoke from area wildfires and the continuing impact of the COVID-19 pandemic added to the hardships brought on by the drought. Fenters says this season鈥檚 hardships are pushing a lot of his neighbors to the breaking point.
鈥淚 can鈥檛 stress enough, if it happens again where we get a really dry winter, it will be a total wild card who survives the following year, if anybody,鈥� he says. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e going to see some people decide, maybe this isn鈥檛 worth it.鈥�
All these stress factors mean that by the time harvest is completed, agricultural producers are exhausted.
鈥淎ll my friends that are farmers, we鈥檙e beat,鈥� Fenters says.
鈥榃e鈥檙e really draining our resources鈥�
Dan Chin, owner of Chin Farms and Wong Potatoes in Merrill, is the grandson of the company鈥檚 founder, Sam Wong, who came to the United States from China more than a century ago.
Chin鈥檚 crops include grain, alfalfa, and potatoes.
This year, Chin says he鈥檚 farming about 40% of the acreage he would normally plant, with the other 60% dry and fallow due to lack of a surface water allocation this year. Chin was able to access groundwater to produce organic potatoes for Whole Foods, as well as reds, yellows, and organic potatoes for Walmart in California.
The impact of so many reductions doesn鈥檛 end with just him, Chin says.
鈥淚t not only hurts me but it hurts the seed grower, it hurts the fertilizer companies, 鈥榗ause they鈥檙e not selling as much 鈥� and so they鈥檙e hurting, too. It鈥檚 not just the farmers, it鈥檚 the whole trickle-down effect.鈥�
Wong Potatoes has sold to some customers in Sacramento since the company started 92 years ago.
鈥淎s far as the return, we鈥檒l be able to take care of our customers,鈥� Chin said.
鈥淭his year we鈥檙e going to survive because of the well water but we鈥檙e really draining our resources,鈥� Chin says. 鈥淲e were really worried about these well waters holding up for the year and we were lucky, all the ones that we used held up. But there鈥檚 other farmers in the area that their irrigation wells went down.鈥�
Groundwater Isn鈥檛 the answer
Ivan Gall agrees groundwater isn鈥檛 a sustainable solution for agriculture in the Basin. Gall is the field services division administrator at Oregon Water Resources Department. He says he鈥檚 concerned about groundwater getting depleted as use increases, especially with the hundreds of domestic wells that went dry this summer.
鈥淭here have been immediate impacts from this year鈥檚 groundwater use and that will persist in the next year and future years if significant amounts of groundwater continue to be used like this,鈥� Gall says.
Gall describes the aquifer system used to access groundwater as a bank account where deposits are made during the recharge part of the season, through rain, snowmelt, and leakage from streams and Upper Klamath Lake that can recharge that aquifer system.
When your withdrawals exceed deposits from the bank, it leads to persistent decline in the account balance, or in this case, the groundwater levels, Gall says.
鈥淚t鈥檚 certainly not an infinite resource that the Basin can depend upon in the long-term. That鈥檚 why it鈥檚 so important to look at long-term solutions where there鈥檚 some balance used with surface and groundwater to meet all of the needs of all of the water users in a sustainable fashion.鈥�
Oregon Water Resources Department has documented declining groundwater wells in the Klamath Basin since 2001.
For most Project irrigators, the use of groundwater aquifers is a good 鈥渂ackup鈥� supply during times of water shortage, Gall said, but it鈥檚 not intended as a primary resource.
鈥淭he Basin isn鈥檛 going to run out of groundwater resources next year, as an example, but every one of those years where they exceed the recharge, those groundwater levels will continue to decline,鈥� Gall said.
Future of Basin farming is uncertain for some
Midland farmer Justin Grant has had his share of obstacles this summer, from his domestic well going dry in July to a reduction in his farm鈥檚 productivity going into next year.
With zero surface water allocated from Upper Klamath Lake, he pumped from his small irrigation well to keep at least some of his pastures green and his cows fed.
鈥淲e鈥檙e using and farming less than 40% of our acres this year due to the lack of water,鈥� Grant said. 鈥淚nstead of doing 30 acres of alfalfa, we should be doing more than 100 easily 鈥� We tried to be as sparing as we could with that just to kind of keep from drawing down the water table as much as possible, but still be able to produce some hay for our cattle, and put water in the ditch for them to drink.鈥�
Grant said the little bit of grain hay he grew had a yield that was less than 20% of what it would have been, had he received a surface water allocation from Upper Klamath Lake, because the conditions were so dry to begin with.
The 32-year-old acknowledges it鈥檚 a terrible situation, but is glad that some people have worked together to help one another.
鈥淚 think the worry is, are they going to be around next year and years to follow?鈥� Grant said.
The answer to that question is something many farmers are grappling with as harvest season sets in.
鈥淚t鈥檚 partially difficult to have faith that the future is going to bring good things because it鈥檚 been such a daunting time for the last two decades,鈥� Grant said.
Millions in federal relief
The silver lining in this grim picture is that the federal government is sending tens of millions of dollars to help Klamath Basin farmers deal with the losses of this dry season. The Bureau of Reclamation is providing the Basin with $25 million and the Department of Agriculture is providing an additional $15 million, to be administered via the Klamath Project Drought Response Agency by Dec. 31.
There is currently no state funding available for drought relief, according to OWRD officials.
Eligible agricultural producers can submit up to 5,000 acres per applicant, for $200 per acre, according to the application.
But while farmers say they鈥檙e glad to have the help, it doesn鈥檛 make them whole.
Ryan Kliewer said his farm qualifies for some federal relief, through the USDA but not through Reclamation鈥檚 program. His costs are fixed, so he still has to make the same payments to the bank.
鈥淚t鈥檚 a band-aid on essentially a hemorrhage,鈥� Kliewer says. 鈥淚f that was put out to save my bacon for the year, it is not going to.鈥�
Scotty Fenters sees federal funding as extra money to help with expenses, but he doesn鈥檛 believe it鈥檚 going to be game-changing for farms.
鈥淭here鈥檚 going to be a lot of places operating on a loss this year. Just a matter of how big of a loss are they going to operate off of,鈥� Fenters says.
Praying for rain
With uncertainty over water going forward, it makes planning ahead difficult for many farmers.
But even aside from planning, Ryan Kliewer says, in hindsight, he questions his career choice, even as he plans to farm again next year. He has a family to support and investments to maintain.
鈥淎s far as next year, the only thing we can do for this year is pray for rain, pray for a really good winter."
Kliewer doesn鈥檛 mince words about the impact of water regulation over the years on farmers in the Project. He calls it a 鈥渄eath by 1,000 cuts.鈥�
鈥淲e鈥檙e getting to the point where we can barely crawl,鈥� he says.
