Spigots throughout the basin are not going to run dry for decades, if ever.

This largely has to do with being at the top of the watershed, a geological composition that is conducive to capturing and storing groundwater, a ginormous lake to store water and draw from, conservation measures reducing use, and limits on growth.

Much of the water households and businesses on the California side of the South Shore use comes from snow melt. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

Even with the forecast for less snow and more rain (hard to imagine with snowfall records breaking this year), the basin is in good shape, according to South Tahoe Public Utility District.

“Seven of the last 17 years were below normal precipitation. Despite a decrease in total storage in the basin, the groundwater remains stable,” Shelly Thomsen, STPUD director of public and legislative affairs, said. “Our lake fluctuates a lot in levels. We do not see that same level in groundwater fluctuations. It is more stable.”

Groundwater is collected via snow literally melting into the ground, and with runoff reaching Lake Tahoe. The lake is a groundwater basin because its bottom absorbs water. These groundwater components are hydrologically connected.

STPUD applied for a $2 million state grant to help address groundwater and climate change issues. STPUD wants to better understand how threats to the greater ecosystem might alter groundwater. More rain and less snow could impact tree mortality and wetlands significantly.

“The biggest concern for our community with regards to climate shifts is what does it do for the groundwater dependency systems,” Julie Ryan, engineering manager, with the district, said.

STPUD collects groundwater data twice a year. Desert Research Institute in Reno helps with projection models.

“We are constantly imputing the most up-to-date climate projects so we don’t end up like the Colorado River,” Ryan said.

Ryan explained there is a limit to groundwater capacity, though. “Generally you hit groundwater about 15-feet deep and then it’s saturated below that. Our groundwater basin is really quite full. There is not a lot of room for more water below ground.”

STPUD, Lukins and Tahoe Keys water districts rely completely on groundwater—or wells. Lakeside on the California side and many Nevada water purveyors draw directly from Lake Tahoe. (Lakeside uses a well in emergencies.)

STPUD is looking into securing surface water rights through the state, meaning it would be able to use lake water.

“We would be more resilient if we had surface water,” Ryan said. “If you have PCE (tetrachloroethylene) it can take decades to resolve that. Surface water quality you have to deal with on a daily basis, but there are fewer surprises. But when there are surprises, they are easier to manage.”

STPUD has long said the largest threat to its water supply is contamination, not the lack of water to pump. Lukins and the Keys districts continue to deal with PCE. Arsenic and uranium are two naturally occurring contaminants groundwater purveyors must contend with.

In the early 2000s STPUD won settlements against Chevron and Shell regarding MTBE (methyl tert-butyl ether) seeping into the groundwater; with some of that money being spent on new wells.

STPUD started a groundwater management plan after the MTBE brouhaha.

California has only been regulating groundwater since 2014. A that time, STPUD with El Dorado County Water Agency became the overseers of the newly created Tahoe South Subbasin. They manage the groundwater with the help of an advisory group that meets twice a year. The boundaries are from the state line west to Eagle Point and south to Christmas Valley. So, it includes the smaller California water districts, along with nearly 700 private wells.

State law mandates plan updates every five years. STPUD did so in 2022. The state Department of Water Resources in March discussed districts that are overdrafting, which means using more water compared to what is replenished each year.

The Tahoe South Subbasin isn’t even close to being in this category. More water is collected compared to what is used.

Notables from 2022 the report:

• Approximately 1.8 million acre-fee of groundwater storage is available. (An acre-foot is the equivalent of 1 acre being covered with 1 foot of water.)
• Average annual recharge from 2010-19 was 48,300 acre-feet per year (AFY) and the average from 1983–2019 was 41,600 AFY.
• Groundwater withdrawals averaged 7,660 AFY and 7,150 AFY from 1983–2019 and 2010–19, respectively.
• Between 2010-19 groundwater storage increased an average of 1,700 AFY.
• The state allocates a maximum of 12,493 AFY to be pumped.
• Maximum pumpage is expected to be 11,800 AFY using El Dorado County’s 50-year population growth rate.

Note: This story first appeared in the March 2023 issue of the Tahoe Mountain News.

A patch of irises near Lake Hennessey in Napa County. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

When I think of a wildflower excursion, I think hiking . On this particular day it was via mountain bike. We stopped plenty of times along the single-track trail to ohh and ahh, take pictures and appreciate Mother Nature’s palette.

The abundance of poppies was incredible. Many were at least a foot tall, with some covering entire hillsides.

Poppies are prolific along the Valentine Vista Trail in Moore Creek Park. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

We also saw Ithuriel’s spear, hairy vetch, false bindweeds and others.

The flowers didn’t stop when we went on the trail paralleling Lake Hennessey. A  patch of irises was outstanding. One hill was awash in purple with thick clumps of lupine.

The three of us were at Moore Creek Park in St. Helena for an afternoon of riding. Becky and I had the advantage with e-bikes, while Barb did the old-fashioned thing using only human power.

Stopping along the ride to enjoy the wonders of nature. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

Fortunately a fellow rider in the parking lot directed us to the trail with flowers. In some ways I wished I had been on two feet instead of two wheels, just to appreciate the scenery a bit more, to linger.

But really, no complaints. The trail was great. Nothing technical—which is very much to my liking. Out of my peripheral vision I could see a bit of a drop off that triggered my fear of heights, but not enough so to have to get off the bike.

We made a loop on this route. Going down I seem to be even slower. I really don’t like going fast. Some of the hairpin turns necessitated walking the curves, but otherwise it was a fun descent.

Being in this 1,600 acre park defies what one usually thinks of in the Napa Valley. That’s because we weren’t in the valley floor. It was a bit rugged, filled with oak trees and not grape vines. The activity was athleticism, not drinking wine.

Lupine and wild grasses cover a hillside near a trail along Lake Hennessey. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

I didn’t know the color green has so many shades. It was spectacular looking out on this mid-April afternoon to see all the trees and hills looking do vibrant and healthy after all the winter rains.

While people warned us of poison oak, you can’t always avoid it. I was the only one to leave with an itchy souvenir.

In all we rode about 16 miles; starting with the Valentine Vista Trail and ending with what was mostly a fire road around part of Lake Hennessey. The first trail is part of the much larger Bay Area Ridge Trail.

Daisy pedals droop when the temperature is cool or there is morning dew. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

All the colors of the rainbow were sprouting from the lush green grasses at Foothill Regional Park in Sonoma County last weekend.

Some were short, some were more than a foot tall, some were just starting to sprout, others were in full bloom. They all were spectacular.

Rusty popcorn lives up to its name based on how it looks. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

Near the end of the guided hike on April 1 our leader Cricket with Sonoma County Regional Parks had the more than two dozen people on the hike name as many flowers as we could—I’m still one to say, “Oh, that’s a pretty purple one” without ever learning its name. The color data was good information to have when we tried to figure out if we had seen the entire spectrum of the rainbow.

A carpet of wildflowers at Foothill Regional Park in Sonoma County. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

We spent more than two hours walking about 1½ miles through this 211-acre park in Windsor. Clearly, on this paid ($10) outing we didn’t see all aspects of the park, but we sure saw a ton of flowers.

Adelinia grande are in the borage family and are also known as Pacific hound’s tongue. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

Cricket was the perfect guide as she dispersed information—like how the wild radish is not native, but it’s not one of the bad invasive species; or how leaves of the Pacific sanicle, aka snakeroot, can be made into a poultice to treat a snake bite; that the irises found in this park are the bold tube variety and will only be around a short time in the spring; and how the Johnny-tuck flower is also called butter and eggs.

With the abundance of rain this winter, it’s bound to be an epic wildflower season. It was clear that on this particular Saturday we are far from the peak—at least in Sonoma County. Once the temps start to rise and the sun is out more, the flora is bound to pop.

From drought to floods. Such is the state of life in California.

There has been so much rain and snow this year that state officials on March 10 started releasing water via the Oroville Dam spillway; something that hasn’t happened since April 2019.

“Road closed” didn’t hinder us from our quest to see the water tumbling over the spillway.

We parked and started walking the nearly three-quarters of a mile before we could hear and see the roar of white water descending the concrete spillway on its way to the Feather River.

Near the bottom the churning water was like a boiling caldron—though this water was far from being hot.

Water descends the Oroville Dam spillway on March 18. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

A light mist drifted our way. It was like being close to a thundering waterfall. Mom and I were there on March 18. That day the Department of Water Resources was releasing 35,000 cubic feet per second (cfs) from the Lake Oroville to the Feather River, with 23,000 cfs flowing through the low-flow channel within the city of Oroville.  On March 20 the flow from the spillway was reduced to 27,500 cfs, with 16,500 cfs flowing through the low-flow channel.

The state agency said, “These releases are being made in coordination with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and downstream water operators for flood control protection to surrounding communities. DWR continues to closely monitor lake inflow levels and will adjust releases accordingly.”

Lake Oroville is the largest State Water Project reservoir, which provides water for 27 million people along with various ag interests.

On March 17, the water level at the lake hit 867 feet. Full is considered 900 feet. On March 20 the lake was at 858 feet.

Department of Water Resources officials in their overbearing nanny state way decided to close Oro Dam Boulevard between Rusty Dusty Road and Canyon Drive because “higher releases from the main spillway cause excessive water spray across the road and reduce driver visibility. This section will remain closed to traffic until releases from the main spillway are reduced to a level that is safe for motorists.”

(Images: Kathryn Reed)

Oh my god, people, really? Like we haven’t been driving in rain here all winter. Like there isn’t fog to contend with in the valley. Like snow isn’t an issue for this region, too—really, there is snow close by. A little water spray is considered dangerous?

Now, I can see closing the road to deter looky-loos like me and mom. But be truthful DWR. You don’t want to deal with the traffic so some bogus reason for the road closure is the easy out.

The road did reopen March 21 after the flow was decreased and that dangerous mist went away.

The spillway really is something to see in person.

With wet weather in the forecast for the rest of this month and the snowpack so voluminous, this reservoir will be full.

Flowers bloom between grape vines in Sonoma in early February. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

The calendar says spring is going to arrive next week.

Depending on where you live it looks and feels a lot more like winter and that spring’s arrival will be in the distant future. That’s what happens when there is record snowfall, like what Tahoe has experienced this year.

Those in the flatlands, though, are already delighting in the green hills. Mustard and daffodils are a vibrant yellow, with some already running their course. The almond blossoms are past their peak and will soon be off the trees, ready for the nuts to take hold. Other trees are just beginning to bud.

Spring, outside of snow country, is about life, birth and new beginnings.

The spring equinox in March and autumn equinox in September are the only times when the Northern and Southern hemispheres have essentially equal amounts of day and night.

This is when the sun is directly over the equator, so the earth is not tilting toward or away from the sun.

And it’s the one day when the sunrise will be due east and the sunset due west.

The spring equinox is also known as the vernal equinox.