Improved snowpack and voluntary community conservation help the Eagle River Water and Sanitation District delay strict one-day-per-week watering rules, keeping the threat of mandatory rationing at bay despite high overall water supply risk.

The grass is dead. It’s a brittle, yellow carpet stretching across lawns from Eagle to Gypsum, a silent testament to the drought that preceded the rain. Yet, inside the Eagle River Water and Sanitation District’s boardroom, the air feels lighter than it has in months. The threat of a stricter watering schedule — specifically, the dreaded one-day-per-week mandate that has already bitten Avon — has receded, pushed back by a wet May and a community that stopped watering its lawns before it was even asked.
It’s a counterintuitive victory. Usually, we assume that more water in the pipes means more pressure to ration, that abundance invites waste. But here, on the Western Slope, the opposite is true. The wet weather didn’t just fill the reservoirs; it filled the pockets of the district with enough buffer to keep the strict rules at bay.
Water supply risk remains high, a fact that officials aren’t letting slip into complacency. But the specific mechanics of that risk have shifted. The Gore Creek and Eagle River valleys have avoided the "red zone" of extreme risk, largely thanks to a combination of natural relief and human restraint. At the district’s monthly board meeting on Thursday, the data told a story of survival rather than crisis.
Consider the Green Mountain Reservoir’s 66,000 acre-foot Historic User Pool. For years, this massive reservoir has been the lifeblood for hundreds of domestic and municipal entities on the Western Slope, providing the water that keeps our taps running and our rivers flowing. But this year, the pool didn’t just struggle to fill; it barely started. Early estimates projected it would reach only 10% of its capacity, a figure that would have forced the Eagle River district to send massive volumes of its own stored water downstream to meet obligations. By late May, it sat at a mere 15,000 acre-feet.
Then came the snow. Or rather, the return of snowy conditions to the High Country, which improved the snowpack and staved off the worst projections. As of June 17, the user pool had surged to approximately 40,800 acre-feet. That is a significant change in fortune. It means less water needs to be pulled from the district’s own in-basin storage at Eagle Park reservoir, preserving that critical reserve for the dry months ahead.
Tim Friday, director of Water & Utility Resources for the district, laid this out for the board. The overall risk is still very high, yes, but the immediate trigger for a one-day-per-week schedule has been avoided. The district’s staff had discussed bringing a resolution to mandate the stricter schedule, but they decided against it.
Board member Jeffrey Martz pushed back, asking the obvious question that every neighbor asks when the water bill comes: "Are we going to have issues with the community if we’re not more proactive in deciding to go to one day?"
Friday’s response was grounded in the reality of the environment. "It’d be premature, at this point, based on what’s happening with the environment and in light of Green Mountain Reservoir," he said.
Siri Roman, the district manager, reinforced that stance. The district is sticking to its approved water shortage response plan, a framework established in April 2025 that outlines exactly when to tighten the screws. The plan prioritizes drinking water, fire protection, and river flows, using key indicators to determine when to move from two-day to one-day watering. And right now, those indicators are holding steady.
But there’s another factor at play, one that locals know well: we’re actually using less. Roman noted that water users reduced their demand by 28% compared to the average of the last three years. People aren’t just waiting for the government to tell them to stop; they’ve stopped on their own. "Right now people are using water very reasonably at two days a week," Roman said. "We’re really appreciative of our community, a lot of people are not watering, or just watering their trees in targeted locations."
It’s a warm feeling, that sense of shared responsibility, but it’s fragile. The dead lawns are still there, waiting for the next dry spell. The reservoirs are full enough for now, but the threat of the red zone hasn’t vanished, it’s just been delayed. You can feel the relief in the district’s decision to hold the line, but you can also see the caution in their eyes. They’re watching the sky, and they’re watching us.





