Lee Vinning, California – On a trailhead surrounded by surge brushes, naturalists welcome a group of visitors to Mono Lake next to a sign that reads “Desert Oasis.”
Guide Ryan Garrett, whose face shines, greets a group of vacationers and pleads them to see the value of the saltwater lake.
In the early 20th century, Los Angeles took water from Owens Valley and quickly built a massive aqueduct to deplete Lake Owens. Reaching for more water, LA leaders pushed further and began slamming water from the mountain streams that feed Lake Mono.
Visitors show how the Tufa Tower is formed by mixing calcium and carbonate solutions during a tour of Lake Mono.
“Do they still take water?” asks a woman.
“Yes, they’re still deflecting the water,” replies Garrett.
As they continued, Garrett explains how Mono Lake has rapidly declined from the 1940s and 1980s. They pass interpretive signs that show how much water levels had fallen by 1951 and 25 feet by 1963.
By 1982, the lake had fallen 45 feet from the natural level that locals once knew.
The influx-hunting lake has lost about half its volume and doubled its saltiness.
As they walk towards the shore, this group warns into a formation called Tufa, the famous lumpy formation of the lake, which is almost 20 feet above them. Garrett stopped to explain how calcium carbonate towers grew underwater around freshwater springs for thousands of years, leaving them exposed as the water fell.
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Canoes glide between the Tufa Towers on Lake Mono. (Myung J. Chun/Los Angeles Times)
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Ryan Garrett takes photos of Gerald, Janet Reyes and their children after a walking tour on the shore of Lake Mono. (Ian James/Los Angeles Times)
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The man holds an alkaline fly larvae photographed from Lake Mono. (Ian James/Los Angeles Times)
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Ryan Carl stands inside the Tufa Tower, walking to the shore of Lake Mono to find Wilson’s Farrarope. (Ian James/Los Angeles Times)
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Wilson’s Farraropes flew together across Mono Lake and past California seagulls. (Ian James/Los Angeles Times)
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Wilson’s Farrarope flies to the shores of Lake Mono. (Ian James/Los Angeles Times)
“If we were here in 1941, we would be in the water,” he says.
Offered twice a day in the summer, the free tour takes visitors on the South Tufa Trail, located in a scenic area of the Monoven National Forest.
Some tour leaders work in state parks. Others are guides from the nonprofit Monolake Committee. Garrett is the board’s education director.
On the coast, he crouches down and soaks a clear cup in salty water.
Mono Lake has an estimated 4-6 trillion brine shrimp.
“I took it!” he says that a small brine shrimp is passing a cup of swimming.
The seeds are not found anywhere in the world. The lake is full of trillions of lakes.
He reaches for the water and shows him an open palm. Covered with dark spots. They are alkaline fly pups, a traditional food source for the native Kootzaduka’a people. He urges everyone to taste it.
“It tastes salty,” one man conspiracy.
California seagulls make open noises through the clouds of alkaline fly on Lake Mono.
These fly and brine shrimp are essential foods for migratory birds such as eared Grebes, Wilson’s Farraropes and California seagulls. They need to bring the lake to a healthy level and make sure it’s not too saline.
The threatened health of the lake became a rallying cry when the “Save Lake Mono” bumper sticker appeared in California cars in the 1980s. In 1994, state regulators ordered the LA’s Ministry of Water and Power to take steps to raise the 17-foot lake by taking less water from the stream, which drove into the lake.
Despite this, Garrett says, “Mono Lake is not at a healthy level of management.”
He opens his backpack, takes out a foldable metal pole and stretches it nine feet.
He stands perpendicularly on the sand to show that the lake is well below the target level agreed 31 years ago.
“So the question now is, is Mono Lake destined?” he says. “Is this the best? No, it’s definitely not.”
Garrett points out that conservation efforts in Los Angeles have significantly reduced water use over the past 30 years.
Visitors to the South Tufa area of Mono Lake walk along the coast, which was once covered in water as deep as the tallest Tufa tower.
The 1994 decision included a backstop. If the lake levels do not rise sufficiently, the state Water Resources Management Board should hold a hearing to determine whether regulations need to be changed.
“What’s very exciting is that your hearing is around the corner,” Garrett says. “So now is the perfect time to learn about Mono Lake, because the next big effort is about to begin to save Mono Lake.”
Once the tour ended, Gerald Reyes, a roofing contractor from Rialto, said he had no idea about Mono Lake and wanted to know more about where Southern California got the water.
He and his wife Janet stopped to see the lake with their four children.
Reyes says he believes that while LA needs water, the lake needs it and “have to find a balance.”
“It’s a beautiful lake,” says Reyes. “I hope this lake will be visible to my kids.
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