On Mount Timpanogos, a peak that rises 7,000 feet above Utah Valley, snowmelt quietly does a job most people never think about: it supplies about 95% of Utah's water. But as summers grow hotter and drier, scientists are looking for water in a place most of us would never think to search — hidden underground, locked inside slow-moving rivers of ice and rock.
Brigham Young University geology professor Greg Carling and his students have been hiking to nearly 100 high-country "rock glaciers" across Utah and Colorado. Rock glaciers are masses of ice buried beneath rock debris that flow downhill incredibly slowly. Unlike snow, which melts away by midsummer, these icy reservoirs keep releasing water long after the snow is gone — feeding streams during the driest part of the year.
That timing matters. When late-summer streams run low, communities facing drought need every drop they can find. In collaboration with the Utah Geological Survey and universities across the state, the BYU team hopes its findings will shape future water management strategies. Because rock glaciers may keep streams flowing through late summer, they could offer real relief to neighborhoods dealing with water shortages.
But finding these hidden water supplies is no easy hike. Carling and his students spent six weeks trekking to some of the most remote alpine terrain in two states. At each site, they located the outlet streams, then collected water samples and macroinvertebrates — tiny creatures that live in water and act as natural indicators of water health. Back in the lab, they analyzed the water's chemistry, checking for trace metals and other clues.
The early results are heartening: at most rock glacier outflows, the water quality is excellent. That means these hidden reservoirs could be not just a source of water, but a source of clean, drinkable water.
The project is also nurturing the next generation of water scientists. Lerato Thoka-Cole, a BYU geology graduate student, grew up in Africa, a continent she describes as very water-scarce, with much of its water trapped in underground aquifers. She plans to take everything she learns back home to help drought-stressed communities.
"You want to be better stewards of the landscape, better stewards of the mountains, better stewards of our water," Carling said, describing the change he sees in his students. "It gives me hope for the future that we have a great generation rising up that is going to lead us in the decades to come."
As the American West faces a megadrought, these icy, rock-covered reservoirs are emerging as an unexpected — and unusually clean — ally, one that may buy communities precious time while a new generation learns to protect the water beneath their feet.