Verde Valley Ditch Bosses Are The Invisible Stewards Of Irrigation


WORDS BY REBECCA SERRATOS | PHOTOS BY MELINDA HAMBRICK

The Verde River begins quietly, in bubbling seeps and springs emerging from the aquifer north of Chino Valley. It gathers itself into one of the few free-flowing rivers in Arizona, cutting south through Sycamore Canyon, flowing past the Tuzigoot National Monument, and then on through Clarkdale, Cottonwood, and Camp Verde, picking up tributaries until it joins the Salt River on the northeastern edge of Maricopa County. The river is the highly visible center point of the Verde Valley. The water, like a beacon, stands out. How it reaches present-day fields and farmland is less visible.

Where the Verde River and Hickey Ditch meet. The barely discernible break in the perimeter provides water for farmland as well as the unique ecosystem present at the Dead Horse Ranch State Park.

Settlers in the late 1800s dug irrigation canals by hand to divert the Verde’s flow to their properties. In an era of pooled labor and resources, shared management of the water through informal partnerships made sense.

As the population and resulting economic activity grew, so did the need to more easily transfer water rights. Corporate structures in the form of mutual water companies and ditch associations were created. The water’s ownership became determined by shares, its management overseen by “bosses.”

Compared to its intertwined neighbor, the Cottonwood Ditch—which is eight miles long and serves 200 users—the Hickey Ditch is small. It spans almost three miles and supports only three users: Bent River Ranch, the Dead Horse Ranch State Park, and Blazin’ M Ranch. Herald Harrington and his wife, Norela, are co-owners of Bent River Ranch, a 75-acre property that has been in the family since 1959.


This photo was taken near the intersection of the Cottonwood and Hickey ditches. The Tuzigoot National Monument is visible in the background.

The Hickey Ditch now supports their permaculture beds, a CSA, heritage fruit trees, pasture-raised eggs, a small herd of Belted Galloways, and a steady supply of produce sold at the ranch’s farm store and served on the Cottonwood–Oak Creek School District’s lunch trays.

Just as the ditch systems are relatively invisible to the public eye, so are those who care for them. Harrington, the current ditch boss, has periodically occupied the role for decades. “The one thing that’s pretty much common throughout most irrigation companies around the country is you have a person that’s responsible for managing the ditch,” Harrington says. “I make sure the water is running right, watch what’s happening with vegetation growth, and figure out the maintenance tasks that we need to do. [The association] charges dues once a year to pay for the maintenance of the ditch.”

Herald Harrington, steward of the Hickey Ditch.

“We have to shut the water off, push the fines up on the dam, clean out cattails here and there. We have a pretty good ditch,” he says. His management does more than irrigate Bent River Ranch; it supports Dead Horse Ranch State Park, a globally unique ecosystem that hosts nearly 200 bird species, including the southwestern bald eagle.

“Back in 1993, this entire area was underwater,” Harrington says. “That flood knocked out a bunch of pipe and concrete. With help from The Nature Conservancy, we installed an automatic headgate with a sensor that functions underwater. It can survive floods.”

Two organizations support much of the critical work without ever owning a ditch themselves. The Verde Natural Resource Conservation District (NRCD) is a locally led public body that supports landowners in conservation efforts, emphasizing what it calls “local control, local knowledge, and local leadership.”

The Nature Conservancy, a national nonprofit with deep roots in the Verde Valley, brings technical and financial support. It funds infrastructure upgrades like the sensor and solar array on the Hickey Ditch headgate, and publishes resources that help landowners understand their own water rights. Neither organization runs the ditches; both make it easier for the people who do.

As we walk the bank, Harrington points out the bones of the system. The headgate is basically a door through which diverted river water enters a series of pipes that feed water, via gravity, down toward Bent River Ranch and other users. In the past, someone physically opened and closed the “door” to control how much water entered the pipes.

“You would have to pay attention to the flow at different areas of the ranch,” he explains. “Too little water and the headgate needs to be raised; too much, and it needs to be lowered.” He pulls out his phone. The sensor and solar array, installed with support from The Nature Conservancy, now let him read flow data and raise or lower the gate from wherever he is standing.

A century and a half of ditch knowledge, condensed into a screen tap. As Harrington and I travel along the greenway—a trail along the ditch—I can’t help but think how many farmers, ranch hands, families, and community members have helped care for this infrastructure.

“A lot of these irrigation ditches were already here when settlers showed up. We don’t find arrowheads; we find grinding stones. This was farm land.”
—Herald Harrington
This photo was taken from the Tuzigoot National Monument. The green pasture on the left is the property of Bent River Ranch.

“Last year we had a cottonwood tree fall on the flume and break the suspension bridge,” he says. “It took us a while to get the correct cable wires strong enough to hold up the piping once full of water.” Even though the downed tree was past the point in the irrigation network that supplies Bent River Ranch, as ditch boss Harrington is still responsible for helping clear tree debris and getting the flume up and running for users farther down the river.

The Verde Valley, once known for its fields, pasture, and orchards, is now more commonly associated with vineyards, tourism, and river activities—but the river is still the centerpiece. Who will steward the ditches and manage the flow that still feeds Arizona farmland?

Groundwater pumping in the Upper Verde watershed, repair costs, aging farmers, and flow changes: the future is uncertain. Standing at the headgate with Herald Harrington, watching water peel off from the Verde and begin its careful, gravity-fed journey toward the ranch and orchard, it’s easy to forget that this small diversion represents over 160 years of continuous human attention. The ditch only works because many unseen and unknown people keep showing up.

Learn more about the abundance that the Hickey Ditch supports at thefarmatbentriver.com.

Learn more about surface water availability and water rights in the Verde Valley at verdenrcd.org. 

Written by:

Photography/Illustration by:

Melinda Hambrick

Melinda Hambrick is publisher of Edible Central Arizona.

Related Posts

Stay in Touch

to Our Newsletter