California has never been a stranger to drought. But the kind of water stress we’re seeing today—prolonged dry spells punctuated by devastating floods and snowpacks that vanish before summer—is testing the limits of our aging infrastructure and historical assumptions about who gets water, and who doesn’t.
Tucked into the southeastern edge of California, in the Mojave Desert, a project led by Cadiz, Inc. is gaining traction as a model not just for climate resilience, but for long-overdue water equity. It’s called the Mojave Groundwater Bank—and while it may not yet be a household name in Los Angeles, it probably should be.
Announced in late 2024 and now moving into development, the Mojave Groundwater Bank is the kind of project that feels almost too good to be true at first glance: it taps into a naturally recharging aquifer beneath the Cadiz Ranch in the Mojave Desert, one estimated to hold between 30 to 50 million acre-feet of water—more than Lake Mead and Lake Powell combined. It will repurpose idle fossil fuel infrastructure and steel from the abandoned Keystone XL pipeline to move that water, rather than building from scratch. And it does all of this in partnership with Tribal Nations, including the Lytton Rancheria of California, who are investing directly as owners in the system.
It’s not just smart engineering. It’s a moral course correction.
For decades, California’s water system has operated on the backs of legacy infrastructure that favors wealth and geography over need. Most of our water comes from snowmelt in Northern California and the Colorado River, traveling hundreds of miles through canals and aqueducts—many of which were funded by ratepayers in the state’s wealthiest zip codes.
Meanwhile, underserved communities—particularly those that are rural, agricultural, tribal, or predominantly Black or Latino—have often been left out of water planning altogether.
That’s why Cadiz CEO Susan Kennedy is so passionate about what this project represents. A former top advisor to two California governors and former CPUC Commissioner, Kennedy has spent decades in the policy trenches, negotiating massive environmental and infrastructure deals. But this project, she’s said, may be the most important work of her life.
And after listening to her describe it, I can see why.
The Mojave Groundwater Bank doesn’t just redistribute dwindling supplies. It creates new ones. Every year, 50,000 acre-feet of water naturally replenishes beneath Cadiz Ranch—enough for 400,000 people annually. By intercepting that water before it evaporates, treating it with
state-of-the-art purification systems, and transporting it using existing steel pipelines, Cadiz is offering a science-backed solution to the water accessibility crisis that plagues much of inland California and the Southwest.
Communities like Barstow, Adelanto, Fontana, and Rialto—many of which have long relied on over-drafted or contaminated groundwater basins—stand to benefit directly. So do underserved areas of Arizona, which could receive water through an exchange for imperiled Colorado River supplies. Once complete, the network will span 350 miles and include 1 million acre-feet of underground storage—essentially a reserve that can be tapped during dry years to relieve pressure on the Colorado River and the Sacramento–San Joaquin Delta.
But perhaps most important of all is who’s at the table. Cadiz is doing what few infrastructure developers do: sharing ownership with Tribal Nations and ensuring long-term stewardship is guided by those who’ve historically been left out of the decision-making process.
In a time when trust in government and corporate institutions is shaky at best, that approach matters.
Sure, there are challenges ahead—negotiating new agreements for managing scare water supplies and funding expensive new infrastructure, to name a few. And yes, water projects in the West are always controversial. But there’s something undeniably hopeful about the Mojave Groundwater Bank. It doesn’t just solve a technical problem. It asks a bigger question: What would it look like to design our future water systems around fairness, foresight, and inclusion?
As we brace for the next drought—and the political battles that will inevitably come with it—this is the kind of bold thinking we need. Clean water should never be a luxury. If the Mojave Groundwater Bank succeeds, it won’t just move water. It’ll move the needle.
Be First to Comment