Water summit presents options for landowners

The truck door closed with a thud. The engine awoke. And off Ronnie Montague went. His calloused hands clutched the steering wheel of his Chevy while guiding it through uneven terrain before arriving at a water well on his 1,000-acre irrigation farm, located near Cannon Air Force Base. 

As droughts have turned water scarcity from a problem to a full-blown crisis, this well is one of many that has declined over the years in Curry County and beyond.  

“Can’t be worried about it later,” Montague said of the crisis. “Must be worried about it now.”

Wanting to be “part of the solution,” Montague could join the surge of local farmers and ranchers who’ve signed up for the water-rights lease agreement.

Rolled out by Ogallala Land & Water Conservancy in 2022, agricultural producers in targeted areas would be financially compensated to not use a majority of their irrigation water.  

Director Ladona Clayton and members of Ogallala Land & Water Conservancy are actively working to invite still dubious agricultural producers to join in. From their perspective, running water in Curry County could hinge upon this.  

“What does it do for the everyday person?” Clayton asked rhetorically. “They’re going to have at least 40 more years of water than they would have had (without it). That’s a win for Cannon, the city and the county.” 

At a recent water summit in Clovis, Clayton said participants will be paid to let 80% of their groundwater they’d typically use for irrigation remain in the Ogallala Aquifer. This water would eventually be utilized by homes and businesses. Participants are free to use the remaining 20% of their irrigation water wherever they see fit. 

The goal is to bank enough groundwater in the Ogallala to prevent any major consequences that stem from a limited water supply. 

These consequences could include the departure of Cannon; a financial and population boon for Curry County and neighboring areas. Moreover, a mass exodus across eastern New Mexico where residents – especially low-income families – flee to cities where water is cheaper.  

“Bottom line is no water -- no economy, no people,” said David Lansford, current board president of Ogallala Land & Water Conservancy and former Clovis mayor.  

Water ‘won’t be around forever’

That day may come decades from now. But speakers say the problem is too critical and requires too much work to not take a sizable, proactive approach now.  

“It’s old water, folks. It’s not going to be around forever,” Mike Hamman, a retired state engineer, urged at the summit.

The last three years of payments have been funded by the U.S. Air Force/Department of Defense, REPI (Readiness and Environmental Protection Integration) and the state of New Mexico, according to Clayton. 

She said they invested because if Cannon AFB and Melrose Air Force Range “do not have adequate water they cannot fulfill the mission.”

Furthermore, investments were made to support Clovis and Curry County. “All this money they’re spending is for the good of the many,” she said. 

Discussions regarding the water-rights lease agreement began in 2012. It wasn’t until 2022 when the first set of agricultural producers signed on.  

“It’s been hard work,” Clayton said of persuading government agencies and members of the agricultural industry to buy-in to this “innovative model that’s never been done before.”

To strengthen her buy-in, she had a diverse array of people sign off on it at the summit. 

That included Hamman; Geoff Rawling, a senior field geologist at the New Mexico Bureau of Geology and Mineral Resources; Peter Nichols, a water rights attorney; Jeff Davis, a Cannon project manager; and perhaps, most importantly, two of the 10 people who’ve joined the program’s first phase. 

During a summit panel, Ricky Lockmiller and Danny Fish said their experience with the water-rights lease agreement has been “good” since signing on in 2022. They said they’ve been paid fairly and on time. Plus, their own water wells that once dried have improved. 

“We feel like our hands aren’t tied or anything,” said Lockmiller, a multi-generation farmer. 

According to Clayton’s summit presentation, over the first three-year lease term, nearly 12 billion gallons of water have been saved, a number she called “significant.” 

“Early on we were told that the landowners wouldn’t do something like this voluntarily,” said Clayton. “That’s the number one question I get asked everywhere I present; ‘Ladona are you telling us they did this voluntarily?’ Yes, they did. That speaks volumes about who they are.” 

Clayton said she tracks participants’ water usage through their electricity bill to ensure they don’t go over their allotment. Payments are doled out once per year. 

Specific contract numbers are kept confidential, but Clayton said that deals are done by calculating the “appraised value of the groundwater and multiplying it by the gallons per minute of metered water production.” In a PowerPoint presentation, she listed the following to show what numbers could look like. 

“EXAMPLE: 1,500 GPM (gallons per meter) x $250 (appraised value) = $375,000.”

Montague, who’s in the appraisal stage of his water-rights lease agreement, outlined the process. 

First, hydrologists come down to meter, or measure the wells, in a precise and lengthy manner. Once hydrologists see how many gallons of water are produced per minute an appraisal is given. From there, Montague will discuss with lawyers to make sure the appraisal process was “kept above board” and if the deal is worth taking.

Montague, who uses irrigation to make feed that plumps up livestock for his cattle operation, said he trusts the process and feels no pressure to accept it if it’s not “feasible.”

Not everyone trusts the government

While Montague is a proponent, he said other farmers and ranchers may not be. 

Some for practical reasons.  

For example, Montague said a farmer may not want to forfeit 80% of their irrigation water if they produce a water intensive, specialty crop like pumpkins.  

“There are crops that you just can’t grow in a drought,” Montague said.  

He added that some may not want to join because of fear or distrust in the government.

Aware of this, Clayton and Lansford are hoping stories like Fish’s and Lockmiller’s can dispel misconceptions. Furthermore, at the summit and in subsequent interviews, Clayton and Lansford said repeatedly that the deal is “100% voluntary,” land isn’t being “taken” and water is being “banked” and not “taken.”

And because of the lease’s voluntary nature, Montague said he doesn’t envision animosity growing between participants who feel they’re not being compensated enough. 

“If you feel like it’s not a fair deal, then you don’t sign the lease,” Montague said. 

Lastly, it could be “difficult” to get traditionalists to agree to embrace change. 

“Especially if they’ve been irrigating for 50-plus years, it’s been their life day to day,” Montague said. “Something you’ve been doing for years and years and tomorrow you don’t have to go. OK, now what’re you gonna do?” 

But Montague said the stakes are too high, problems too prominent, to avoid seeking solutions. 

Last Saturday, while standing near one of his three water wells, Montague reflected on something a friend recently told him:

“We’re gonna have a hard time explaining to our grandkids and great grandkids at some point that we poured all this drinking water out on these crops.”

“It’s an interesting statement,” he pondered, before eventually leaving the well that may or may not be turned off, and hopped back in his Chevy. 

“Gotta make it last,” he said from the front seat.