Devastating drought has returned to the heart of Dust Bowl country. On the High Plains of northeastern New Mexico, southeastern Colorado, southwestern Kansas, the Oklahoma Panhandle, and northern Texas, drought has been creeping up since fall 2007. By mid-June 2008, the Oklahoma Panhandle and surrounding areas slid into “exceptional drought,” the most severe category of drought classified by the U.S. National Drought Mitigation Center. |
Cimarron County, Oklahoma, the westernmost county in the state, is “at the epicenter of the drought,” according to staff climatologist Gary McManus with the Oklahoma Climatological Survey (OCS). The land is occupied by wheat farms, corn fields, and pasture. It’s an area of periodic drought; the Dust Bowl years have not yet faded from living memory. |
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“The area has been in and out of drought since the start of the decade. Mostly in,” McManus said. “But fall of last year was when it really started to get bad. In some places, this year has been as dry or even drier than the Dust Bowl.” As of early August, the Oklahoma panhandle was experiencing its driest year (previous 365 days) since 1921, according to OCS calculations. Through July, year-to-date precipitation in Boise City, Cimarron’s County Seat, was only about 4.8 inches, barely half of average and drier than some years in the 1930s, the height of the Dust Bowl. |
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The toll of the drought on crops and pasture is evident in satellite-based vegetation images spanning the past year. On NASA’s Terra satellite, the Moderate Resolution Imaging Spectroradiometer (MODIS) collects observations of visible and infrared light that scientists use to create a scale, or index, of vegetation conditions. In images from late July 2007, conditions appeared near or only a little below normal compared to the 2000-2006 average. In mid-autumn, however, during the beginning of the growing season for the winter wheat crop, conditions had already started to deteriorate. By late April/early May, the impact of the drought on the area’s crops and rangeland was dramatic. In late June and early July, conditions in the agricultural lands appeared to improve somewhat. The apparent improvement could be misleading however. Paul Toon, the Cimarron County Executive Director for the Oklahoma Office of the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s (USDA) Farm Service Agency, says the Panhandle did receive patchy rains in June and July. But late June or July is also when the season’s winter wheat crop is typically harvested. In crop areas, at least, it may be normal for vegetation to be sparse at that time of the year. So the drought might not seem as dramatic in those areas. |
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Viewed from the ground, the situation is equally discouraging. According to Cherrie Brown, district conservationist for the USDA Natural Resources Conservation Service in Boise City, subsoil moisture is virtually non-existent. “Any rain that falls is sapped by evaporation in two or three days. Four feet down, there is literally no moisture left in the soil. Recently we were digging as part of a project to decommission a county well, and we dug down to a depth of 7 feet, and there was still no moisture. Even irrigation can’t offset these deficits,” she said. As a result, crops have failed and pasture is severely degraded. |
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In places, the land is taking on the look of the Dust Bowl years. In the second decade of the 20th century, settlers to the High Plains plowed up millions of acres of native prairie and began planting winter wheat. The High Plains wheat boom was fueled in part by a global shortages created by the First World War. Near the end of the decade, with wheat prices falling, came one of the area’s regularly occurring droughts. With the prairies gone and wheat fields increasingly fallow, thousands of years of topsoil blew away in black dust storms, earning the decade the name “The Dirty Thirties.” |
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Since the Dirty Thirties, says Brown, many farmers in the area have committed to soil conservation efforts like “no till” agriculture, in which crop residue is left on fields to anchor soil in place. And while these efforts have gone a long way toward preventing another Dust Bowl, she says, there are places where the ground is starting to blow, just like it did back then. In fields where crops failed, winds have scoured the earth, scraping the soil down to hardpan. Other fields and pasture are being buried by the shifting, sandy soil. |
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Kiley Whited, the Natural Resources Conservation Service’s Rangeland Management Specialist for Cimarron County, says the situation on the area’s rangelands may be even worse. On the prairies that once sustained America bison by the millions, even the buffalo grass, whose fibrous root system helps hold the top soil in place, is dying or has gone dormant unusually early. “Buffalo grass is the most resilient of the native grasses to drought and grazing,” says Whited. “To see it wilting and dying is scary.” Because the vegetation has the additional pressure of grazing, it can take longer to recover from drought. |
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To take some of the pressure off stressed rangeland, Cimarron and many other High Plains counties petitioned the Department of Agriculture to release some of the county’s holdings in the Conservation Reserve Program. The program pays “rent” to farmers to keep easily damaged agricultural land fallow. Farmers sign 10-15-year contracts, and they must pay fees and return rent payments to have their land released early. In Cimarron County, says Toon, 30 percent of the agricultural land is part of the Conservation Reserve Program. In emergencies, the USDA can waive fees and let farmers out of their contracts. Farmers can also receive permission for emergency haying and grazing on program lands, but their rent payments are reduced. On August 1, the USDA announced plans to allow emergency grazing and haying on conservation reserve lands in the drought-stricken counties of the High Plains, and said that rental payments to farmers would only be reduced by 10 percent instead of the standard 25 percent cut. In addition, the federal government declared nine counties in western Oklahoma “primary natural disaster areas.” Sixty-six bordering counties in Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Arkansas, Texas, and New Mexico are eligible for disaster relief under the declaration, which makes low-interest emergency loans available to farmers and ranchers. The declaration may also allow tax breaks for ranchers who have been forced to sell their herds. A farmer herself, Brown describes the Cimarron County residents as tenacious. They are accustomed to the High Plains’ climate extremes, and they have worked hard to avoid making the same mistakes with the land that farmers did at the beginning of the past century. “People aren’t complaining,” says Brown, “they are just trying hard to stay on their land.” But despite conservation efforts that have prevented another dust bowl-like disaster, she says, they are still at the mercy of the climate. “We can’t just go to the store and buy rain.”
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