Yampa River flows drop by quarter as Colorado basin talks stall

Endangered fish and ancient petroglyphs line Yampa’s wild course

The Colorado River basin supports more than 40 million people, dozens of tribes, and an estimated $1.4 trillion in economic activity across seven states and parts of Mexico. Negotiators managing the over-drawn system have repeatedly missed deadlines amid disagreements over how to allocate its shrinking waters in a warming and drying West. A devastatingly low snowpack and a historically hot spring this year added further strain.

Within that system, the Yampa River holds an unusual position. Unhindered by large dams or diversions, it flows 250 miles from Colorado’s Rocky Mountains through alpine tundras, cottonwood forests and ancient red-rock canyons before joining the Green River in Utah. Its natural, unregulated cycle — unrestricted spring floods that clear channels of vegetation and aid fish migration — makes it ecologically distinct from nearly every other river in the basin.

On an early morning in mid-May, a group of about 30 people — scientists, policymakers, tribal representatives, a rancher, an actress and a reporter — shoved camping gear into waterproof bags and climbed into bright-yellow rafts to float the Yampa. Organizers including Kent Vertrees, an advocate and guide with Friends of the Yampa, have spent over a decade paddling people who can help determine the river’s future through its soaring rock cathedrals and bounding runs of whitewater.

“It’s important that we can still have wild places,” Vertrees said. “This river is a relic of the past — and we need to protect it.” He warned that the Yampa faces constant pressure from water users across the region: “The bullseye will always be on the Yampa’s back.”

The Yampa’s ecological function depends on its free-flowing character. Unrestricted spring floods fill wetlands that serve as nurseries for endangered fish such as the razorback sucker and bonytail. “The dynamics of the free-flowing Yampa River sustain both native fish communities and the physical habitats upon which they depend,” said Dr. Robert Schelly, the resource stewardship and science program leader at Dinosaur National Monument, who joined the trip. He called the river a “linchpin of Upper Colorado River Basin ecology.” Michael Fiebig, director of the Southwest River Protection Program for American Rivers and a guide on the trip, described the Yampa as “the ecological engine that keeps that reach going.”

Climate change is exacting a measurable toll. Flows have declined by roughly a quarter over the last century, and this winter was the region’s warmest on record. The river’s waters have been eyed by the oil shale industry, growing communities along Colorado’s Front Range and farmers affected by the systemwide water crunch.

Stops along the journey highlighted the river’s history and what was at stake. Hikes into slot canyons and dark caves revealed ancient fossils and petroglyphs left by Indigenous people who lived along the river hundreds of years ago. A silvery wooden ladder left by surveyors in the 1950s scouting a proposed dam site stood as a reminder of what was kept out — had the dam been built, the entire ecosystem would have been submerged under a reservoir. Fiebig recounted that the efforts of early conservationist groups saved the Yampa and provided a framework for fighting on behalf of the environment.

The ladder’s survival underscores a broader uncertainty. The Yampa’s wild character is increasingly seen as both a relic and a target. For now, its unregulated flood cycle continues to sustain one of the last free-flowing river ecosystems in the American West.