Growing up in a desert and seeing the Rio Grande led me to appreciate the beauty, bounty and promise in rivers.

Unfortunately, drought, overconsumption and other factors have cut into that promise, even as water from the Rio Grande slowly flowed to El Paso after being held captive in New Mexico. It’s not that New Mexicans are simply being greedy; they also need to survive and help feed the nation through the Land of Enchantment’s agricultural greatness.

While many Texans might blame our neighbors for the river running dry in the Lone Star State for much of the year, New Mexico also has its own Rio Grande woes.

Parts of the river in Albuquerque were reportedly predicted to go dry in May.

We’re all in the same boat, stuck in drying mud, searching for solutions before we all bleed our aquifers dry.

I know the Rio Grande will look like an actual river again in the Borderland for at least a few months, but each time I see it empty and dusty, I feel sadness, and maybe some shame, that something once so mighty has been tamed to the point of nonexistence for much of the year.

While Elephant Butte Lake was nearly 11% full as of May 28, according to the Texas Water Development Board’s website, Water Data for Texas, bottling up the Rio Grande in New Mexico hasn’t solved either state’s water problems, even as water trickles toward El Paso from Caballo Reservoir.

Perhaps the U.S. Supreme Court’s approval May 26 of a settlement among New Mexico, Texas and Colorado in the 13-year legal battle by Texas over New Mexico’s pumping of groundwater will help the states come up with solutions to the growing water crisis that threatens residents of two nations who depend on the river for life.

Until then, whenever I see the dry Rio Grande, I’ll think of a song, “Ghost Stories,” by Tale of Giants, with lyrics that lament what it has become:

“There was once a river that led us to the sunNow it sits drier than the bones of a buried one.”

Knowing it’s because of laws, water treaties, drought and the need to make the most of a limited resource doesn’t keep me from longing for a river that inspires awe.

Everything is supposed to be bigger in Texas. But our rivers aren’t. Having the Rio Grande run dry, whether it’s in El Paso or Big Bend, seems like a failure.

A river that’s largely dead most of the year also is another rupture in the bonds that tie a community together.

Decades back, generations of people in the Borderland flocked to the river’s banks.

When I was around 10 or so, my mom and I would head down to the Rio Grande in our family’s pickup, looking for our dog, Baron, whom my brother would take to the levee to “party” with his friends.

The German shepherd would jump onto the truck seat when called and sit there, looking at us, as though saying, “Let’s go home already.”

Back then, on weekends, the levee roads would be filled with ATV riders, which often angered people fishing. Still, there was enough room for everybody. Nowadays, locked gates keep people out of most areas and warn that breaking the rules constitutes trespassing on federal property. But it appears people who want to walk or ride a non-engine bicycle can do so at their own risk.

In the past, the river and its levees were the sites of concerts and KLAQ river races.

“The last race was held in 2014,” said Kevin Vargas, brand manager at KLAQ-95.5 FM.

He added, “This is fondly remembered as one of the events that if circumstances allowed, we would gladly welcome back.”

A few friends and I were at a concert once, drinking beers along the periphery. It was cold and one of them, Little Ray, dropped his beer.

He looked at us sheepishly, smiled and said, “My hand froze.”

It became our catch phrase whenever anyone spilled a drink.

After the concert, we were in line to leave, with Big Ray blasting music from a then-new band at a noise level that now would make me say, “Damn kids.”

A car pulled alongside Big Ray’s and I thought, “Rumble,” but instead, someone inside asked who we were listening to. My friend said Motley Crüe, and the people inside expressed their admiration for the tunes, then drove off.

Nowadays, people share music they like on social media without ever having actually to talk to anyone. More efficient? Probably. But definitely less satisfying.

Now, places along the levee that welcome you are rare.

There is a nice park along the levee near Sunland Park Casino & Racetrack with a walking track. There also is a walking trail off La Union Avenue in Canutillo.

I used to stop by the now-closed Carousel Convenience Store on McNutt Road on the border between El Paso and Sunland Park, New Mexico, for beer, beef jerky and Lotto tickets. The bridge there overlooks the Rio Grande. It was a great river viewing spot, and probably still is, even with the razor wire and Border Patrol vehicles. You can drive along the river road there, too, although I don’t recommend it. There’s a lot of sand and scrutiny, both of which can get you stuck.

I used to want to have my ashes tossed off that bridge into the Rio Grande, but now I’m not so sure.

Maybe I’ll see if I can get someone to do that in Big Bend instead, preferably when the river is running. It would be sad just to get stuck in drying mud, waiting for the water to flow again.    

This article originally appeared on El Paso Times: Rio Grande flows to life in Borderland as New Mexico releases water

Reporting by Samuel Gaytan, Special to the El Paso Times / El Paso Times

USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect

By Samuel Gaytan, Special to the El Paso Times | USA TODAY Network