Nestled in the depths of the Albuquerque BioPark is the Aquatic Conservation Facility – it’s one of three places in New Mexico where aquarists hatch Rio Grande silvery minnow.
They work with several different state and federal agencies to protect and maintain native species.
Head Curator Patrick Horley has an extensive background in fish farming and environmental science. He points at a massive outside concrete “tank” they built specifically to mimic natural river flow to acclimate maturing fry for release back into the wild.
“I have seen changes in the Rio, and every year is a different year,” Horley said. “We never know what we're going to get.”

Once common in the middle Rio Grande, the silvery minnow’s historic range has been significantly diminished – dwindling to roughly 7% of its historic range, between Cochiti Dam and Elephant Butte Reservoir.
A crucial part of the work for Horley is painstakingly collecting wild silvery minnow eggs to boost genetic diversity and improve the overall health of hatched fish.
Horley said that it’s hard to predict when it could be a good year for egg collection or the fish overall. But, the consequences of climate change are clear.
“If we have too many bad years in a row, it would be highly detrimental to these fish.” Horley added.
The species' population has decreased dramatically in recent years, with a 99.5% drop between 2017 and 2018 according to some estimates.
From decades of drought to steadily increasing temperatures, there are several reasons for the dramatic decline. But, Horley has other insights.
“I fear that it's not just the weather that's against the fish,” he said. “It's people.”
Right now there is an unprecedented attack on conservation efforts in the United States by the Trump administration.
Recently, the White House moved to establish a committee — referred to by the President himself as a 'God squad' — with the authority to override Endangered Species Act protections in order to accelerate oil, gas, and development projects.
This comes on the heels of drastic cuts across the federal workforce.
Similarly, funding for an endangered species program in New Mexico is in Republican crosshairs.
Composed of 17 different “signatories” across the state, the decades-old Middle Rio Grande Endangered Species Collaborative Program uses research-based river management strategies to recover the five endangered species that call the river home.
Its funding comes from these various stakeholders, who front money to cover the program’s administration, function and scientific projects.
On February 20, 2025, an almost $1M a year Bureau of Reclamation contract was cancelled by the Trump administration for a third-party manager to oversee and coordinate efforts among the various organizations involved in the program.
The cancellation of the contract has raised concerns about the program’s long-term impact — especially as species like the silvery minnow and the New Mexico meadow jumping mouse continue to decline.
“So what the third party program management did was it just brought all the pieces together,” said Debbie Lee, senior program manager of the University of New Mexico ARID Institute. They previously held the management contract before its cancellation.
The contract, which was issued just last year, was linked to a multi-year plan involving restoration initiatives and a fallback in the event the river dries significantly.
“Without the collaborative program as a driving force, would endangered species still get as much attention as they have in the past?” she asked.
The program’s mostly still in place, but Lee’s worried that without full-time, dedicated staff, things could slow down or get overlooked, since the signers could potentially prioritize differing aspects of the river’s health.
“There's just less money right now out there to be had, and a lot of endangered species take a lot of money to maintain and study,” Lee said. “We really do need to have a much tighter coordination space.”
While the program benefits animals, advocates like Paul Tashjian — director of freshwater conservation for Audubon Southwest — said it also helps shape the future of water management in the Rio Grande by maintaining its ecological function.
“I think that the silvery minnow is actually a really great indicator species for the health of the Rio Grande,” he said. That means its health is a great indicator of the health of the river.
Tashjian argues that the collaborative program keeps the river wet, especially during drought.
“Having water in the river itself is beneficial for all kinds of purposes,” Tashjian said. “To move water into a dry river is very inefficient. It costs a lot of water.”
This is sometimes done by temporarily transferring water rights to balance both the quantity and timing of water flow. The result: reduced flooding and sediment buildup — and fewer long-term challenges for water managers.
The water in the Rio Grande is shared among Colorado, New Mexico, and Texas under an agreement called the Rio Grande Compact. Currently, New Mexico owes Texas a significant "debt" of 120,000 acre-feet due to under-deliveries. Tashjian says the collaboration is essential to keeping the state in compliance, as it's dangerously close to the compact’s maximum allowable debt of 200,000 acre-feet.
“If that compact creeps up higher, it really is an alarm bell, and I can almost guarantee it, as the compact debit increases, the minnow numbers will drop,” Tashjian said.
So, as federal funding dries up — much like the Rio Grande is predicted to this summer — Tashjian remains hopeful that New Mexico will make up the funding loss to keep the river healthy.
“Think about how much we spend on our highways,” he said. “Per mile, what does that cost versus what we spend on our rivers? Our rivers are our highways for water, they are our life blood.”