CARRIZO SPRINGS, Tex. — In this South Texas stretch of mesquite
trees and cactus, where the land is sometimes too dry to grow
crops, the local aquifer is being strained in the search for
oil. The reason is hydraulic fracturing, or fracking, a drilling
process that requires massive amounts of water. “We just can’t
sustain it,” Hugh Fitzsimons, a Dimmit County bison rancher who
serves on the board of his local groundwater district, said last
month as he drove his pickup down a dusty road. When Susan
Connell arrives at the first oil well of the day, she tosses her
stylish black-rimmed glasses onto the dashboard of her
18-wheeler, climbs down from the cab, and pulls the zipper on
her fire-resistant coveralls up to her neck. It’s early July,
about 7 a.m. We’re on the Fort Berthold Reservation, in western
North Dakota. Connell, 39, the mother of two young girls and one
of the few female big-rig drivers in the oil patch, is hauling
water. Produced water, as it’s officially known. The drivers
call it dirty water. Dur