Adapt in the age of unpredictable water

 

Text and photos by Kirsten Howard and Allie Goldstein

In Keene, New Hampshire, Duncan Watson looks out the window with trepidation as rain pounds the glass of his office at the Public Works Department; in 2005, a flood in his hometown killed seven people. And across the country in Santa Fe, New Mexico, forest fuels specialist Bill Armstrong fears he’s losing a race against the clock to thin and prescriptively burn the tree-crowded national forest before a prolonged drought sets the stage for another mega-fire.

What do these two men have in common? They’re on opposite sides of the same coin, dealing with the consequences of what Watson calls a “caffeinated climate” in which change is not so much about the slowly rising thermostat, but about more pronounced extremes, from very wet to very dry.

This past summer, we took a three-month road trip in Allie’s mom’s minivan to find stories about communities building their resilience to the impacts of climate change. We called our adventure the Great American Adaptation Road Trip. Now, looking back on 17,359 miles, 31 states, and 158 interviews, it’s clear to us that water is a key player in almost every adaptation story.

 

Current climate change science suggests that as carbon dioxide levels rise, communities across the U.S. are going to see too much precipitation too quickly, putting a major strain on municipal stormwater infrastructure, agriculture, and human safety. Many places have already seen an uncharacteristic number of intense rain events in the past decade. This September’s devastating flooding in Boulder, Colorado is just a harbinger.

Other places aren’t getting enough water. With temperatures projected to rise at least another 3.8 degrees Fahrenheit by the end of the century under most carbon emissions scenarios, arid climates are expecting the precious little rain and soil moisture they get to become even scarcer. Increased evaporation and sparse rainfall amplified this summer’s record-breaking heat wave in Arizona, and throughout the Midwest and South, changing precipitation patterns place pressure on already overdrawn groundwater.