The old colloquialism may be true that Texas has two primary modes of weather: flood and drought. In spite of a few good wet spells, 2006 was again overwhelmingly dry. A two-year, nearly two foot rainfall deficit looms at the Austin Bergstrom International Airport rain gauge, making 2006 one of the top 20 driest years in the city's history.
For much of Texas, severe to extreme drought status officially loomed through the year. Agriculture concerns heightened as the price of hay soared under record summer heat. Wildfires raged into the dry fall months. Nearly each weekly update of the national "Drought Monitor" painted dark hues of red from the Rio Grande to the Red River, right through the heart of Texas.
Evidence became quite clear in above water reservoirs like the Highland Lakes. By December, Lake Travis was 25 feet below the monthly average, setting a 42 year low for the month. With an elevation of 644 feet above mean sea level, Travis ends the year 52 percent full.
And, for the first time since measuring began more than 20 years ago, record deficits in underground water supplies have been noted. The Barton Springs segment of the Edwards Aquifer entered critical drought stage in September.
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Year of drought
For much of Texas, severe to extreme drought status officially loomed through the year.
 
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"If you look at the water levels at Lovelady [monitoring well] we're still well into the critical stage drought and until we see some significant rainfall, which means recharge into the aquifer, we don't see that changing,” John Dupnik of the Barton Springs/Edwards Aquifer Conservation District said.
Dupnik added that winter swimmers at Barton Springs and the creek will likely notice a slower flow than average.
Aquifer users, found primarily in Hays and southern Travis counties, were asked to cut back their water usage by 30 percent. Lawns took little time to turn from their irrigating-induced shades of bright green to crunchy yellows and browns.
Beyond the scenery, the drought cut right at the heart at how some make their living. For farmer Carol Ann Sayle, it took extraordinary effort just to stay in business.
"When people say ‘What's the worst thing on the farm?’ it's the weather. Always! Either too wet, too dry, too windy," she said.
Sayle’s five-acre Boggy Creek Farm in East Austin is one of the largest urban organic farms in the nation, offering nutrient-packed produce fresh from the ground straight to the community at their on-site farmer's market twice a week.
"We came off a real dry winter that affected all of our berry production. Strawberries were messed up, no black berries at all," she said.
Then the year got worse. On a hot day in a very dry July, the farm well - believed to be just a bit more than 20 feet deep - went dry.
Rumor has it some similarly ill-fated neighbors further from town were forced to close down completely. But that's when farming in the city offers a distinct advantage: there's city water to quench that crop’s thirst, for a price.
So these farmers adapt, buying only as much water as they need and making sure it all counts by reconfiguring their farm to conserve.
"Usually, we do it on raised beds. Generally we make them flat. This year, we're having them cupped down a little bit so that whatever water gets on those beds will pool in the center then weep in gradually," Sayle said.
The method paid off, as least for this season's crop. And without an increase in prices.
A moderate El Nino is predicted to bring above normal rainfall across the south through the winter months, according to the latest data from the Climate Prediction Center.
Let’s just hope it’s not too much at once. Big Texas droughts notoriously end with big Texas floods.
