National Parks Traveler

Will Lake Powell's Decline Bring The Colorado River Back To Life?

By Kurt Repanshek

As each day of exploring Lake Powell by sea kayak passed, the question kept surfacing in my mind: was the lake dying, or were Glen Canyon and the Colorado River coming back to life?

The answer seemed obvious: long-drowned side canyons were slowly being revealed, thick bands of quagga mussel shells were glued to the bathtub-ring-stained cliffs that frame Lake Powell, and boat launches were falling out of use due to low water levels. Long smothered by the lake, the Colorado River was reappearing at the northern end of Glen Canyon where it meets Cataract Canyon in Canyonlands National Park. With the dropping lake levels, the river was regaining its channel, revealing rapids long lost to the lake. 

Here at Lake Powell in Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, and downstream at Lake Mead in Lake Mead National Recreation Area, are perhaps the most potent signs of climate change in the National Park System. Both are at troublingly low levels. Indeed, Lake Mead has never been so low after filling behind the rise of Hoover Dam back in the 1930s, and Powell seems headed for the same troubling distinction. Both have suffered from the extended drought that has deprived the headwaters of the Colorado River of thick snowpacks that slowly release their water in spring.

But as Joe Miczulski, whom I've been adventuring into the wilds with since third grade, and I slowly paddled north from Lake Powell's Bullfrog Marina on our four-day excursion to retrain our kayaking muscles after a winter of skiing, there were both subtleties and stark realities that the Southwest's long-running drought had imparted to Lake Powell's setting.

In addition to the reappearing vestiges of the Colorado River at the northern tip of the 186-mile-long reservoir, side canyons that had been inundated by Lake Powell are now gaining back their land. As we headed into Moqui, Forgotten, Hansen, and Crystal canyons, the retreating lake waters revealed the death throes of cottonwood trees long drowned by the lake. Campfire rings that rimmed dancing flames four decades ago were turning into archaeological artifacts more than 100 feet above today's lake.

At the far end of side canyons cottonwood trees were surfacing from beneath Lake Powell's waters/Kurt Repanshek

We came upon once out-of-sight, and under water, coves with sand beaches now perfect for pitching tents out of the glaring midday sun, and while shallows in some areas prevented powerboats from going far, our kayaks with their minimal drafts could reach farther into the canyons.

A long-ago abandoned tent resurfaced as the lake retreated/Kurt Repanshek

A tent oddly abandoned long ago and once covered by the lake had resurfaced in all its muddy glory. Even a powerboat once sunk had been purged from the lake waters, waiting on shore to be removed and properly disposed of. 

What we didn't see, but which soon might be revealed in the nooks and crannies of the side canyons that have held parts of Lake Powell, are some of the roughly 2,000 archaeological sites that were catalogued before the Glen Canyon Dam was commissioned in 1963, trapping the Colorado River behind its 710-foot-tall concrete face.

We couldn't help but notice the contrasting settings and aspects being revealed by the draining lake. In the back reach of Hansen Creek, the shallow waters shimmered light green as if transported from the Caribbean.

Hansen Creek Canyon with its colorful, rounded sandstone formations and lighter green waters/Kurt Repanshek

"We've seen some beautiful Southwestern-themed areas, green water, blue sky, every shade of brown and beige," Joe said one evening as we relaxed at our camp. "I would say the (canyons) on the east side were a little more apocalyptic in the sense that they had dead trees that because of the low water levels were now sticking out of the water in places. Rubble that is now exposed because the water is so low just had this eery feel to it in places. Whereas on the west side, when we went into Hansen Creek, that really had the Southwest feel to it."

Some of that rubble had created earthen dams that trapped pools of water with resident fish populations that were doomed.

By mid-June, the Charles Hall Ferry that normally shuttles people and vehicles traveling Utah 276 from Bullfrog to Halls Crossing via a lake crossing had been docked indefinitely due to low water levels, and at least three boat ramps had been closed to motorized vessels, though some were still available for kayaks, canoes, and paddleboards. The Castle Rock Cut, a shortcut that allows boaters to slice about an hour off the time to travel between the Wahweap Marina and destinations uplake, was unusable.

On June 21, the lake level elevation of 3,561.35 feet was 49.64 feet below its elevation of a year earlier, and far below the full pool elevation of more than 3,700 feet.

Black-necked stilts were among the wildlife we spotted during our paddle/Kurt Repanshek

For now, though, the lake continues to provide a cooling destination for those seeking a reprieve from the broiling weather.

"The big houseboats with the families and the kids on them, the kids are all screaming when they passed us in our kayaks, waving at us. Just having a grand old time," Joe noted.

If the drought continues, as many are predicting, will the power generating station within the Glen Canyon Dam fall silent? Might pockets of cottonwood resprout in side canyons? Will the Colorado River reclaim Glen Canyon from the lake that long has suffocated its source? The answers to those questions will go unanswered for now. 

One night as we relaxed over dinner, seven turkey vultures circled high above. Was it a prophetic dance they were doing?

Are the side canyons at Lake Powell half full, or half empty?/Kurt Repanshek