The Disappearing of Louisiana, Part 4: Revetments, Rip-Rap, and Other Exotica

Mississippi River, Alton, Illinois. May 2011.

My intermittent series on "the disappearing of Louisiana" is about the effects of nature and man on Louisiana's land and waters. Restore or Retreat says that Louisiana loses 25 to 35 square miles of land a year, nearly a football field every hour.

Mississippi River, Alton, Illinois. May 2011.

Where does the land go? ...... It is sinking under water. It is drowning.

To get a handle on all this, I need to learn new words such as those to describe ways to protect coastlines or defend against high water:

Breakwaters: A breakwater is an "offshore structure which is aligned parallel to the shoreline. A fixed breakwater refers to one generally constructed of stone ... . Floating breakwaters [are] firmly anchored and may be constructed of tires, logs, ...  or other floating materials."

There doesn't seem to be consensus on the efficacy of breakwaters, as they can cause collateral problems.

Breakwaters from Ahmed Abdelsalam

Freeboard: "The height above the recorded high-water mark of a structure (such as a dam) associated with the water." In construction on land, "freeboard is elevating a building's lowest floor above predicted flood elevations by a small additional height, [such as] 1-3 feet above National Flood Insurance Program minimum height requirements."

Revetments: "Structures placed on banks or bluffs in such a way as to absorb the energy of incoming waves. They are usually built to preserve the existing uses of the shoreline and to protect the slope. Like seawalls, revetments armor and protect the land behind them." 

Revetment design. Credit: Pile Buck Magazine

There are different kinds of revetments. For example, in the New Orleans area, the Corps of Engineers use concrete mat revetments and trenchfill revetments. 


Riprap. Here is a rather grand definition of riprap from Arundel Marine: a protective mound of stones, randomly placed to prevent erosion at a structure or embankment. ... And here is a more prosaic description, which I adapted from wikipedia: rubble used to armor a shoreline.  It feels good to say rubble and riprap in one sentence and have it actually mean something. 

Shoreline protection Cypremort Point State Park, Louisiana

The difference between breakwaters and revetments: "In coastal engineering, a revetment is a land backed structure whilst a breakwater is a sea backed structure (i.e., water on both sides)." Source: wikipedia.



Sills: A sill is a "perched beach," where a beach is built up to be at a higher level then the water.

Sills. Credit: NH Coastal Adaptation Workgroup

Related posts

Disappearing Louisiana, Part 1: Stumbling on History
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 2: Water Words
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 3: Paradise Faded: The Fight for Louisiana
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 4: Revetments, Rip-rap, and Other Exotica
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 5: The Control of Nature: Atchafalaya

Washington, D.C.: Cool as a Cucumber

Cucumbers in water urn. Washington, D.C. June 2016.

When I walked into an upscale store on a hot day in Bethesda, the Rubenesque glass urn filled with water and chunky slices of cucumber made me smile.

What simple beauty.

Antigua, Guatemala: Drinking Water

Clay water filter, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.

This is both an educational post and a comedic post, the latter offering a wonderful opportunity to laugh hard at this reporter's obliviousness.

I'll start with my cluelessness.


I am oblivious

These photos are of the clay water urns at the house of my airbnb hostess.

The urn is graceful and pretty in its simple lines, color, and material. It sits out on the covered veranda of my hostess' house, which overlooks the pretty garden.

My hostess explained that this is where I should get my drinking water.

At the time, I thought, what an elegant way to proffer filtered water! So much sweeter than those glug-gluggy, bulky blue water jug operations.

For several days, I'd draw my water for my coffee or my water bottle, and at times, I'd observe that the water seemed to be very low, only to discover less than an hour later, that the urn was again full. Gee, I wondered, where are the blue jugs stashed, and who is lifting those heavy suckers and pouring them into this urn? A maid comes once a week, so someone else must be replenishing the urns. Wouldn't I hear the doorbell if a water supplier came with new water supplies?  

I knew my thinking was somehow awry, but I didn't stop to examine it.  


One day, when the water was out (and my hostess was away), I asked another guest, a woman who'd been there for several months, if she could explain the system to me so I could do my part, if any, to keep the urn filled.

So here's the funny part. She explained that you get a pot of water from the kitchen sink and pour it into the urn. The urn is the filtration device.

Well, fuckity-fuck.

The magical replenishment explained, the universe back in order.

From then on, I added water to the urn every day as a contributing member of the house society.

It amazes me how easily our mental models can obscure facts in front of our faces. All of my previous experiences with countries with dubious water supplies had included bottled water, large or small. I had no knowledge about clay or ceramic filter jugs like this one. I didn't stop once to examine how the reality in front of me might differ from my "wallpaper" assumption.

I am still laughing at myself. But I'm also appreciating this important reminder about how assumptions color our judgements so insidiously.

Clay water filter, Antigua, Guatemala. April 2016.

Education

My hostess' daughter, when I shared with her my new understanding, said "Oh yeah, so much money is saved by using these clay filters! They're really popular now. They're great!"

It was a Guatemalan who invented the modern ceramic water filters. An excerpt from a 2013 article in the New Internationalist:

In 1981, Fernando Mazariegos developed a technology called ceramic pot filtration. The following year, the design was awarded the top prize by the Latin American Institute of Water Engineers for its effectiveness in treating contaminated water. It has since gone on to receive awards from the World Bank.

There are different designs and materials for the filtering urns. Some use replaceable carbon filters; some incorporate copper or silver into the clay or ceramic material; some have a plastic liner.

None of these systems are perfect, but assuming they are in good condition, cleaned regularly, and used properly, they do a bang-up job of filtering out contaminants, including bacteria.

More information here:

• From wikipedia: Ceramic Water Filter
• From the American Ceramic Society: Flowerpot-Like Ceramic Filters Purify Water for Drinking, Cooking
• From Center for Disease Control: The Safe Water System: Ceramic Filtration

You can take a look at different types of water filters - ceramic, clay (like the one at my hostess' house), plastic, and enamelware - at the Guatemalan Ecofiltro here.

Missouri: LaBarque Creek - January

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

My brother has a place with frontage on LaBarque Creek. He tells me that LaBarque Creek is among the top four most pristine waterways in Missouri, and that the state owns a goodly percentage of the stream system in order to protect it. 

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

LaBarque Creek is only a little over six miles long, but it is home to more than 50 species of fish.

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

My brother and I took a short walk along the creek the other day.

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

I was, of course, delighted when he noticed the skull overlooking the water. 

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

Do you see the ribbon-like trail marked above, in the sandy stream bed, by some creature?

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

I like the variety of ice designs above - the speckled surface at the top, the bright lines below on the left, and the crystalline obelisks on the bottom right.

The Disappearing of Louisiana, Part 3: Paradise Faded: The Fight for Louisiana

Part 1: Stumbling on History
Part 2: Water Words



This 2007 documentary by Jared Arsement hammers in four solid messages:

1. South Louisiana is a strategic location for the reliable production and delivery of oil and gas to the United States, for fresh- and saltwater fishing, the export of midwestern agricultural products, and for the mitigation of weather-related disasters. 
2. Louisiana is literally disappearing into the sea, being subsumed by the Gulf of Mexico.
3. The disappearance of Louisiana results in the loss of people's land, homes, livelihoods, and the protection of major population centers from storms.
4. There are remedies to stop the disappearance, but there is insufficient political will to do so. 

Notes from the documentary: 

Every grain of soil that created the land mass we call Louisiana came from the American east and midwest.

Before 1927, the Mississippi River was like a hose filled with water that moves from side to side, distributing water and silt in a wide swath. 

Louisiana was a by-product of natural flooding.

Since 1927, instead of distributing the sediment throughout Louisiana, it all goes straight to the Gulf of Mexico. (This is because the Mississippi River was channelized.)

Between 1932 and 2000, Louisiana lost nearly 2000 square miles of wetlands. This is the size of Delaware.

Note: My understanding is that as it pertains to Louisiana, the "loss of wetlands" does not mean that there is still land where there used to be wetlands, and that it's just a different quality of land. My understanding is that there is no land, period. It is underwater. Hopefully someone will correct me if I'm mistaken.

Coastal Louisiana. Land loss/gain 1932-2050. Credit: USGS

Note: The red in the graphic above = land lost between 1932 and 2000. Light gray = land gained. Yellow = projected land loss by 2050. Green is projected land gain by 2050.

In the 1950s and 60s, thousands of miles of canals were dredged to accommodate the oil and gas pipeline needs. It likely was not known at that time that the canals would widen because of the dredging, which created deeper and straighter paths for fast water to travel, resulting in bank erosion and channel deepening, which made the canal deeper and wider, which enabled faster water, which ....

Southeast Louisiana. Land loss 1932-2050. Credit: USGS

 A system disintegrated: 

In the past, natural barriers protected Louisiana from the worst of storm destruction: 

1. Front line defense: Barrier (or channel) islands -> drowning in the Gulf
2. Second line of defense: Wetlands --> drowning via erosion and invasion of Gulf waters
3. Third line of defense: Levees --> by themselves, they aren't plentiful enough, stable enough, or high enough to protect people and infrastructure

How do they help? 

Barrier (or channel) islands are like speed bumps - they slow the progress of a tropical storm. 

Barrier islands are narrow strips of land that parallel the coastline and consist of a variety of fine sediments and particulate matter. A barrier island is separated from land by a shallow bay or lagoon and can stretch for tens of miles.

Barrier islands are narrow strips of land that parallel the coastline and consist of a variety of fine sediments and particulate matter. A barrier island is separated from land by a shallow bay or lagoon and can stretch for tens of miles. Source: Rockbandit.

Barrier islands are narrow strips of land that parallel the coastline and consist of a variety of fine sediments and particulate matter. A barrier island is separated from land by a shallow bay or lagoon and can stretch for tens of miles.

How barrier islands protect mainland. Source: University of Texas.

In turn, the wetlands suck energy from the storm by:

• Reducing wind speed; and 
• Adding friction to the surge, slowing it and weighing it down

From article in Times-Picayune. Graphic credit: SE Louisiana Flood Protection District

2.7 miles of wetlands can reduce storm surge by one foot. 

The levees protect people and property (if the islands and wetlands are there to do their part).


Remedies

Talking heads in the documentary cited: 

• Small and large diversions from the Mississippi River channel as it drops through Louisiana (to recapture sediment that is otherwise dumped through into the Gulf) - this would maintain and rebuild land. 
• Opening and closing channel gates using the Dutch model of flood management 
• Restoration of barrier and channel islands

Henry Hub

Henry Hub is in/near the small town of Erath, Louisiana.

To illuminate the strategic importance of Louisiana's geological stability, the documentary noted the Henry Hub, place where natural gas prices are set.

From investopedia: 

A natural gas pipeline located in Erath, Louisiana that serves as the official delivery location for futures contracts on the NYMEX. The Henry Hub is owned by Sabine Pipe Line LLC and has access to many of the major gas markets in the United States. As of June 2007, the hub connects to four intrastate and nine interstate pipelines, including the Transcontinental, Acadian and Sabine pipeline.

The Henry Hub pipeline is the pricing point for natural gas futures on the New York Mercantile Exchange. The NYMEX contract for deliveries at Henry Hub began trading in 1990 and are deliverable 18 months in the future. The settlement prices at the Henry Hub are used as benchmarks for the entire North American natural gas market.

The take-away 

In addition to defining the issues, the documentary made these clear arguments for the fixes:

• Louisiana has the knowledge, experience, and technology to freeze or roll back the disappearing of Louisiana. 
• Louisiana doesn't have the money to do it. 
• At the time the movie was made (2007), there wasn't the national political will to help Louisiana do it. 

Louisiana argues that this is not a Louisiana emergency - it is a national emergency.


Related posts

Disappearing Louisiana, Part 1: Stumbling on History
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 2: Water Words
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 3: Paradise Faded: The Fight for Louisiana
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 4: Revetments, Rip-rap, and Other Exotica
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 5: The Control of Nature: Atchafalaya

The Disappearing of Louisiana, Part 2: Water Words

The Zen of Flowers and Refineries, by Raina Benoit. Lafayette, Louisiana. 

To get a handle on the disappearing of Louisiana, I need to educate myself on water words. Unless quoted by an attributed source, everything below is based on my (flawed) understanding of water terms. 

Wetlands

1.      "Wetlands" is the parent category for these subcategories:

• Swamp
• Marsh

(there are more, but I'm trying to keep it simple)

2.      Wetland

An area that is inundated or saturated by surface or groundwater at a frequency and duration to support ... a prevalence of vegetation typically adapted for life in saturated soil conditions

3.     Swamp

 a wetland that is forested ... Many swamps occur along large rivers where they are critically dependent upon natural water level fluctuations. Other swamps occur on the shores of large lakes. [I added the boldface for emphasis.]

4.     Marsh

A type of wetland that is dominated by herbaceous rather than woody plant species ...
Marshes can often be found at the edges of lakes and streams, where they form a transition between the aquatic and terrestrial ecosystems. They are often dominated by grasses, rushes or reeds

Wetlands are important because they: 

• Help mitigate the effects of river flooding and hurricane-led coastal surges
• Protect water quality by trapping contaminants on the wetlands floor
• Protect shorelines from erosion

Cypress swamp, Natchez Trace, Mississippi.

Bayou

A bayou is a slow-moving creek or a swampy section of a river or a lake. They are usually found in flat areas where water collects in pools. Bayous are often associated with the southeastern part of the United States.

Bayous are usually shallow and sometimes heavily wooded. They can be freshwater, saltwater, or a combination of both. This combination is called "brackish water." Source: National Geographic Education

The Bayou Teche may be south Louisiana's most prominent bayou. Thousands of years ago, it was the main channel (see below) of the Mississippi River. Bayou Teche is 125 miles long and feeds into the Atchafalya River.


Tributaries v. distributaries

• A tributary is a freshwater stream that feeds into a larger stream or river. 
• A distributary is a stream that branches off and flows apart from the mainstem of a stream or river. 

 Source: National Geographic Education

Another description:  Rivers are connected together in vast networks of tributaries, which feed water into the main river channel, and distributaries, which pull water out of the main channel.


Channel

The channel isn't the water; it is the container of the water - the bottom and sides of the river, for example. The banks of a river are part of the channel.

The above is a neutral definition of a channel. Some channels are man-made. Canals and ditches are man-made channels.

A man-made channel is a double-edged sword. It can control the passage of water and can prevent some floods. On the other hand, water moves through a man-made channel faster (thus stronger) than a natural channel. Consequently, when water does top the channel banks, it is a more dangerous flood because its force is stronger than it would have been in a natural channel. And if there are no wetlands to absorb the brunt of the flood, there is more erosion, more property damage, more loss of life.

A movie short

Below is a five-minute video by Kael Alford called Bottom of 'da Boot: Louisiana's Disappearing Coast:

Bottom of 'da Boot: Louisiana's Disappearing Coast from Kael Alford on Vimeo.

Related posts

Disappearing Louisiana, Part 1: Stumbling on History
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 2: Water Words
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 3: Paradise Faded: The Fight for Louisiana
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 4: Revetments, Rip-rap, and Other Exotica
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 5: The Control of Nature: Atchafalaya

The Disappearing of Louisiana, Part 1: Stumbling on History

My intermittent series on "the disappearing of Louisiana" is about the effects of nature and man on Louisiana's land and waters. One source says that Louisiana loses 25 to 35 square miles of land a year, nearly a football field every hour. Where does the land go? It is sinking under water.  

I didn't know about the disappearing of Louisiana when I took my road trip here in the winter of 2011/2012. But by chance, I drove right through a mammoth, manmade complex designed to control the Mississippi River. And it plays a role in the land's disappearance.        

Below is an excerpt from a January 2012 post, when I stumbled on history: the Old River Control Complex:

Highway 15, Louisiana

I found myself driving along a levee, moving from Hwy 1 to Hwy 15. It's a damned good thing I gassed up in Morganza before I got onto 15. It was a l-o-n-g way between gas stations.  I drove aside a levee and a series of locks, dams and hydroelectric projects (or something) the entire way. The Old River Control Complex. Some interesting sites about same, most with cool pictures: 

Credit: USACE per Urban Decay

Credit: USACE

America's Achilles' heel: the Mississippi River's Old River Control Structure

Morganza Spillway/Floodway and Old River Control Structure

Where Does the Water Go? The Old River Control Structures, Louisiana 

I saw large white birds with black-tipped wings taking in the waters at the auxiliary structure. High fencing, barbed wire, big padlocks, and what looked like a thick electric-shock cable prevented me from getting a closer look. But I was able to use the office lavatory. Someone had written a sign inside the ladies' room: "If you can't clean up after yourself, then use the woods." Reminds me of a motel room in Memphis, Missouri, that had this sign in every bathroom: "Don't clean game in the sink."

Anyhoo, after an in-car lunch of hard-boiled eggs and a satsuma orange, I proceeded along my way.
  

I've got a lot of studying to do. 




Related posts

Disappearing Louisiana, Part 1: Stumbling on History
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 2: Water Words
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 3: Paradise Faded: The Fight for Louisiana
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 4: Revetments, Rip-rap, and Other Exotica
Disappearing Louisiana, Part 5: The Control of Nature: Atchafalaya

Louisiana: Lake Fausse Pointe State Park: A Second Visit

At the end of November I visited Lake Fausse Pointe State Park a second time.

Approached the park entrance about quarter til 8:00 a.m.

Saw this.

Morning mist. Near Lake Fausse Pointe State Park, November 29, 2013.

Louisiana Movies: Beasts of the Southern Wild

Movie: Beasts of the Southern Wild

Provenance: Filmed in Terrebone Parish, Louisiana. A film about a tight, isolated community in Louisiana.   

Synopsis (excerpted from here):

In a forgotten but defiant bayou community cut off from the rest of the world by a sprawling levee, a six-year-old girl, Hushpuppy, exists on the brink of orphanhood. Buoyed by her childish optimism and extraordinary imagination, she believes that the natural order is in balance with the universe until a fierce storm changes her reality. Desperate to repair the structure of her world in order to save her ailing father and sinking home, this tiny hero must learn to survive unstoppable catastrophes of epic proportions.

In a forgotten but defiant bayou community cut off from the rest of the world by a sprawling levee, a six-year-old girl, Hushpuppy, exists on the brink of orphanhood. Buoyed by her childish optimism and extraordinary imagination, she believes that the natural order is in balance with the universe until a fierce storm changes her reality. Desperate to repair the structure of her world in order to save her ailing father and sinking home, this tiny hero must learn to survive unstoppable catastrophes of epic proportions. - See more at: http://www.beastsofthesouthernwild.com/about#sthash.18Px8VR9.dpuf

The movie is an emotional rocker almost from start to finish.

The people of the Bathtub reminded me of what Paata said once about the Svaneti in the Caucasus Mountains - "The Svans are our wild Georgians," meaning they are people who have lived to their own code for centuries, are isolated, and renowned for their ferocity, independence, and endurance.


More poignantly, they reminded me of the wild creatures tattooed on the teacher's thigh - magnificent, but now gone. Or of a wiki-stub, where there's some knowledge of the topic, but not much, a sort of informational dead-end.

Louisiana's Isle de Jean Charles, a disintegrating island in Terrebone Parish, was one of several inspirations for director Benh Zeitlin's vision for the film. 

There are innumerable chapters that shine in the movie, so I'll just pick one sequence to share because of its painting of girl power and vulnerability: When the four little girls commenced to the water after a warrior's scream, and then swam to a boat for ferrying to a floating bar ... subsequent scenes of tenderness between the girls and the women who worked there .. the exchange between Hushpuppy and ... well, I don't want to spoil things for anyone who hasn't seen the movie yet.

Recommend? Yes! Have tissue on hand. 

Note: The Making of documentary that is also on the DVD is almost as engrossing as the movie itself.

Sumner Lake State Park, New Mexico: A Big Drink of Water

Sumner Lake State Park, near Fort Sumner, New Mexico

When I arrived in New Mexico in September 2012, it was in the grip of a long drought and still suffering the effects of some severe forest fires.

Sumner Lake State Park, near Fort Sumner, New Mexico

The 2013 monsoon season in July and August brought deep gulps of water to some areas, but neglected others. As recently as early September, some lakes were still parched. (I haven't written yet about my visits to Storrie Lake, Santa Rosa Lake, or Conchas Lake in mid-August, but they were down to or near their minimum pool levels then.)

This changed in mid- and late September, when sheets of rain and flooding came.

Sumner Lake State Park, near Fort Sumner, New Mexico

When I visited Sumner Lake State Park the last weekend of September, it was fat with new water. A park ranger told me that the lake had risen 27 feet in the past week. Twenty-seven feet.

Sumner Lake State Park, near Fort Sumner, New Mexico

The liquid song of the lake drew me to crouch down and move my head closer in. Listen for it at :19 below. 

Sumner Lake State Park, near Fort Sumner, New Mexico

Montezuma, New Mexico, Part 2: Water

Path between springs and stream, Montezuma, New Mexico

I visited Montezuma a few years ago, then again a few weekends ago, this time with one of my sisters. Albeit tiny, Montezuma is kinda famous for three discrete attractions:

• A castle, of sorts
• A house of light
• A hot spring alongside a cold stream

There is also, incredibly, an abandoned ice rink that people use now as an ersatz swimming hole. A guy in an RV seems to live alongside this spot.

Springs, Montezuma, New Mexico

Water

The hot springs don't fool around - they are hot. Different pools have different temperatures. For some people, this fact is a no brainer, but for newbies - like I was some years ago - this is helpful information. A long time ago, my daughter and I went to some springs in British Columbia and we had no idea that the water at one end would boil you like a lobstor, whereas over at the other hand, the temp was just pleasantly warm.

Springs, Montezuma, New Mexico

The springs in Montezuma are near a cold stream.

Springs, Montezuma, New Mexico

 

When my sister and I visited a few weekends ago, there were people soaking in the hot spring baths and people swimming in the stream and there were people going back and forth to enjoy both.

Stream near springs, Montezuma, New Mexico

The vibe around the springs and water is like what you'd expect it was back in the 'old days' regardless of what constitutes the 'old days' for you - whatever decade it was when you were a kid and you went to the swimming hole in the summer.

Springs, Montezuma, New Mexico

In Montezuma, you can enjoy the hot springs year-round, of course. The Las Vegas natives we talked to, who were taking in the waters while we were there, affirmed that it is just as delicious to soak in the hot water while there's snow around you as you might imagine it to be. 

Springs, Montezuma, New Mexico

The holes above were dark and deep. I swear I saw something slow and heavy at the bottom slide under the divider, and into the other hole. Kind of Stephen-Kingish. This water was very, very hot, and I wondered what living thing could live down there in the depths. .... but maybe I just imagined it.

Stream near springs, Montezuma, New Mexico

Unknown artistic folks created a Japanesque river design by placing stones atop stones.

Springs, Montezuma, New Mexico

An elegant collection of white flowers stood near the spring structures.

Springs, Montezuma, New Mexico

We talked to one couple who had been the whole day, soaking. They had selected a small spring bath with just enough room for the two of them. It was sunny out, a warm day.

Springs, Montezuma, New Mexico

A good day to indulge in such simple pleasure.

Alamogordo: Rushing Waters

When I moved to Alamogordo last September, I took these photos of dry canals near my residence.

Canal, Alamogordo, New Mexico

Canal, Alamogordo, New Mexico

I looked forward to the day when I would see this:

That day was today.

Canal, Alamogordo, New Mexico

Flooded street, Alamogordo, New Mexico 

It was fun to watch this rushing water today.


An hour later, the street above was wet, but not flooded, and the water in the canal had already lowered in depth and in intensity.

In 2006, though, this same neighborhood suffered greatly from a flash flood, leaving some houses with four feet of water. Since 2006, a spillway was built to capture water cascading from the mountain slope,  and the water you see above was the overflow from that tank.

Las Cruces, New Mexico: Mesquite District: A Grandfather

Mesquite Historic District, Las Cruces, New Mexico

A friend and I explored some Las Cruces neighborhoods one day, and we passed into the historic Mesquite District.

The shrine above drew my eye, and we pulled over so I could get a better look.

It was on a corner lot with two houses, and to get a decent picture I'd have to go into the yard, which meant the polite thing to do was to knock on the door and ask permission. Glad I did, because a young guy - Patrick -  not only gave me permission to take pictures, but told me a little about his grandfather, now deceased.

Patrick's grandfather built one of the houses on the lot, and Patrick thinks he commissioned the shrine in the photo above. It appears to be a representation of the second St. Genevieve Catholic Church, which was demolished in the 1960s.

St. Genevieve Catholic Church, Las Cruces, New Mexico. Credit: Family Old Photos

The outbuilding below originally did service as a cistern or pumphouse - there was an irrigation system that fed his grandfather's pecan grove, which adjoined the current property.

Mesquite Historic District, Las Cruces, New Mexico

Patrick's grandfather had a grocery wagon that he drove up and down the streets in the Mesquite district, selling produce. 

Mesquite Historic District, Las Cruces, New Mexico

There was another shrine on the property, but Patrick didn't know its history. Inside was evidence of many prayers being sent up via burning candles.

Patrick lives in the family homestead with his father and brothers.

Jetty Jacks

I went to the Rio Grande Nature Center State Park in Albuquerque awhile back.

There are jetty jacks there. I like the name. Jetty jacks.

Jetty jacks, Rio Grande Valley State Park, New Mexico

Jetty jacks were big in the 50s and 60s, installed along rivers to:

1. Prevent floods from deepening a river channel when it scoured the river bed of sedimentation, which over time, resulted in a longer gap between new-normal river levels and the rootline of riverine vegetation, resulting in more difficulty in said vegetation's access to water
2. Prevent "scouring" of levees or banks, in which flood waters scooped out the bottoms of the banks as they rushed by, resulting in unstable levees or banks
3. Allow the capture and retention of sediment and flood debris, resulting in the build-up and maintenance of strong banks, resulting in safe environments for trees - bosques - to grow along the river, and preventing the flooding beyond the stronger banks

 Thousands of jetty jacks were installed along the Rio Grande. And, for the most part, they performed as designed. 

Jetty jacks, Rio Grande Valley State Park, New Mexico

But then the dams (e.g. Jemez Canyon, Abiquiu, Galisteo, and Cochiti) were built, which changed the dynamics of river flooding that made the jetty jacks effective. For example, jetty jacks collected fine sediment from river flooding to build and maintain banks, but the dams sharply curtailed the flow of fine sediment.

Jetty jacks, Rio Grande Valley State Park, New Mexico

Over time, the jetty jacks became a hindrance rather than a benefit.

Jetty jacks, Rio Grande Valley State Park, New Mexico

A detailed discussion of the jetty jack history - as of 2002 - here:  Taking Out the Jetty Jacks: Issues of Jetty Jack Removal in Bosque and River Restoration Planning, by Kathy Grassel, 2002.

In the above article, Ms. Grassel refers to the plans to remove the jacks from the river portion managed by the Santa Ana Pueblo.

Here is that story: Bringing Back the Bosque - Santa Ana Pueblo story.  Published in 2001.

Sidebar: Hmm. This article, published in High Country News, was funded by the McCune Foundation. Ahhh, I thought that sounded familiar.

Jetty jacks, Rio Grande Valley State Park, New Mexico

What interests me is now that a decade has passed, how'd the removal work out? Expectations met?

Per this article, published in 2008, it appears there have, indeed, been positive results. An excerpt:

Along one bank, the Pueblo has removed all "jetty jacks," large metal structures that were installed in the 1950s and 1960s to straighten the river. Removing the jetty jacks allowed the Pueblo to recontour sections of the riverbank, which creates a lower floodplain that helps to reduce channel incision. The recontoured sections have experienced natural revegetation. In addition, the Pueblo has created backwater areas and swales that are planted with native vegetation. The backwater areas increase potential habitat for the Rio Grande silvery minnow, which requires slow-moving currents for spawning. Preliminary surveys (2005-2006) for the minnow on the Pueblo have shown an increase from earlier captures (1995-2000).

Like the Rio Grande silvery minnow, the southwestern willow flycatcher has benefited from habitat changes on the Pueblo. Exploratory surveys in 2001 detected only migratory willow flycatchers. During the summer of 2005, the Santa Ana Pueblo started surveying all suitable riparian habitats within its boundaries for willow flycatchers. After three years of baseline standardized surveys, detections of migratory willow flycatchers have significantly increased from original 2001 estimates. More importantly, southwestern willow flycatchers started residing on the Pueblo in 2006. These new resident flycatchers are defending territories within naturally regenerating riparian vegetation at the confluence of the Rio Jemez and the Rio Grande. This confluence supported very little vegetation in 2001 but is now densely vegetated. The Pueblo used this riparian regeneration as an example to grade the riverbank in an adjacent area to increase sediment deposition. This will create the same type of natural regeneration and expand the available riparian area in hopes that more southwestern willow flycatchers will take residence.

As with so many superficially-simple "problems," the decision to remove or leave in place jetty jacks isn't so simple. The "right" decision depends on: 

• Who you are - what is your interest in the river and the adjoining land
• Where the jacks are in relation to the river and to upstream dams
• What problems - if any - particular jacks are causing
• The return on the investment in the short, medium, and long-term of leaving the jetty jacks in place or removing them