The middle Rio
Grande south of Albuquerque is not much good for fishing, swimming or skipping
rocks. About the only thing moving along the dusty river bottom are bulldozers
keeping a floodway clear. The riverbed nowadays is merely an overflow drain
used during heavy runoff periods. To minimize evaporation loss, the river's
normal flow has been channeled into a broad ditch that rushes to a reservoir
near Truth or Consequences.
The Rio Grande's
one remaining grace is its salt cedar, the bountiful stands that tie down its
banks. This slender tree flourishes where little else will. In the arid
Southwest it serves more than an ornamental purpose, checking soil erosion,
helping flood control, offering a windbreak and providing game with refuge. Its
pink blossoms are a source of nectar for the area's honeybee industry. It was
with these facts in mind that federal agencies planted the trees along the Rio
Grande four decades ago.
But the
Government thinks differently now. Its experts have come to believe that the
salt cedars drink too much water, water better used for irrigation and other
human needs. This is why the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation is currently seeking to
gas—or more precisely spray, chop, bulldoze, crush and bury—roughly 75 million
trees that grow along a 75-mile stretch of the river.
It is not easy to
upset the tolerant people of this self-reliant land. They have let federal
agencies test nuclear weapons and missiles in their backyard. But since the
tree-eradication plan was announced there has been a furor. An unlikely
coalition of state and federal legislators, civil servants, ranchers,
beekeepers, hunters, fishermen, professors, housewives, students and
conservationists has turned against the bureau that spends over $10 million
annually trying to enhance New Mexico's admittedly limited water resources.
An imposing array
of geologists, hydrologists, botanists, biologists and engineers declare that
tree removal will not save an appreciable quantity of water. Instead, they
insist, clearing the banks of the Rio Grande will lead to erosion, ruin the
honeybee industry, wipe out dove nesting and wildlife habitat and hurt hunting,
while destroying a vital greenbelt along the state's most important river
basin. They also worry about the biological impact of spraying vast quantities
of herbicide along a valley that nestles the state's major population and
agricultural centers.
Last July a
Reclamation Bureau contractor made a test spraying near the town of San Acacia,
about 60 miles south of Albuquerque. The defoliant was Silvex, a close relative
of a herbicide called Agent-Orange that has been banned from use in Vietnam
because of its toxicity. By November some results were evident. Heavy spraying
had failed to make a dent in the salt cedar thickets. However, two ranchers,
whose cattle, pasture and children had been hit by the herbicide in the July
spraying, claimed they found the defoliant surprisingly effective. The
ranchers, Lewis Trotter and John Mayo, filed a lawsuit against the spraying
contractor and administrative claims with the Government. They sued the sprayer
for $500,000 damages to cover the alleged loss of cattle and injuries to their
children who had been sprayed or consumed water from the contaminated
pastures.
Department of
Agriculture, veterinary and medical experts have documented Silvex
contamination in some of the cattle and in the children. Although the children
seem to have recovered, the federal investigation of the Trotter-Mayo case
continues. The official bureau position is that the cattle belonging to the two
ranchers may have been the victims of poison weeds or malnutrition. This
explanation may be inadequate, since the bureau has no evidence that the
contaminated children ate any weeds or were undernourished.
After 15 years of
testing, federal research has failed to find a herbicide that eliminates salt
cedar. "We've tried everything," says Dr. Paul Quimby of the Department
of Agriculture research lab in Los Lunas, N. Mex. "The problem is that
after the foliage drops off sprayed trees, protective quiescent buds suddenly
are stimulated to grow. This defense mechanism keeps the trees alive." And
the defoliation at certain times of the year scatters seeds, which only spurs
the growth of new trees.
This explains why
the bureau must supplement spraying with mechanical devices—plows that sever
roots, rotary choppers that cut down small trees and the monstrous Maiden brush
cutter that chews up trees in its path and spews them out as kindling to be
mopped up by bulldozers. Continued maintenance necessary to check the regrowth
of salt cedars along the 75-mile stretch of the Rio Grande would cost $100,000
annually.
There is no proof
to date that clearing the banks of the Rio Grande will save water. Even after
spending $1.8 million to remove 55,420 acres of trees along a 200-mile stretch
of the Pecos River, the bureau lacks real proof of water salvage. Clearing of
another 15,000 acres along the Pecos is being held up by lack of funds.
Meanwhile the U.S. Geological Survey is trying to determine if clearing the
banks actually saves water. Normal variation in stream flow, changes in the
water table and evaporation complicate any such study.