I’m Kayla, and I work in wetlands and permits. I carry a soil probe in my trunk and a stack of forms in my bag. I’ve read Rapanos v. United States more times than I’ve watched my favorite show. That’s saying a lot.
Here’s the thing: this case isn’t a gadget. But I use it like one. I use it on job sites. I use it in client talks. I use it when a map says “water,” but the ground looks dry.
What it is (in plain talk)
Rapanos is a 2006 Supreme Court case about the Clean Water Act. It asks a simple, hard question: what counts as “waters of the United States”? The answer decides if you need a 404 permit to place fill in wetlands or streams. (For a detailed breakdown, see the Supreme Court’s decision in Rapanos v. United States.)
The Justices split. One side (Scalia’s group) said, “relatively permanent water,” and wetlands with a “continuous surface connection.” Another view (Kennedy’s solo concurrence) said, check for a “significant nexus” — does the wet area affect a real river or lake in a big way?
For years, both tests lived side by side. It was messy. And then in 2023, Sackett cut the knot and leaned hard into the “continuous surface connection” idea. (Background on that ruling is available at Sackett v. Environmental Protection Agency (2023).) But Rapanos still shapes how we talk and write.
It reminded me of how the Court in United States v. Lopez also wrestled with the edges of federal power—different topic, same tug-of-war.
For readers who want an eye-level story of real people grappling with wetlands law on the ground, the narrative nonfiction book Neck Deep captures the stakes better than any brief can.
How I used it, for real
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2012, north of Columbus, Ohio
A small builder wanted ten homes. There was a shallow ditch that ran in spring and went quiet in July. We argued it wasn’t “relatively permanent.” The Corps leaned on “significant nexus.” I spent two weeks logging flow after rain, checking for the ordinary high water mark, and talking soil and plants. We ended up with a Nationwide Permit 29 and a tiny realignment. The job slipped 60 days. Cost went up, but not by much. The builder called it “a headache and a half.” I agreed. -
2017, mid-Michigan, farm lane crossing
A farmer needed a stable crossing for a tractor. A swale cut across the path. It ran big in snowmelt. Dry in August. I carried a level, flagged hydric soils, and took photos after a storm. With Rapanos in hand, I wrote two paths:- Under Scalia, not jurisdictional (no lasting flow).
- Under Kennedy, maybe yes (downstream creek showed nutrient spikes after storms).
The district went with the nexus view. We got a Nationwide Permit 14. We added a small culvert and rock. It worked. Fish didn’t care, but frogs sure did.
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2020, training new staff on a rainy Tuesday
I made a one-page flow chart: “Relatively permanent?” If no, “Any continuous surface tie to a real stream or lake?” If maybe, “Show your data.” We taped it in the truck. I told them, “Rapanos is not a magic word. It’s a flashlight.” -
2024, warehouse pad near Macon, Georgia (post-Sackett)
An ephemeral ditch crossed the corner of the site. No clear, surface tie to a perennial stream. State buffer rules still bit, but federally it was not jurisdictional. We cited Sackett, but I still used Rapanos language on “relatively permanent” to keep the memo clean. Permit time? Two weeks, not two months. The GC bought donuts for the crew. Glazed won.
What worked for me
- It gave me terms I could use in the field. “Relatively permanent.” “Continuous surface connection.” These stick. Knowing the precise words matters; misusing them can flip liability just as the absence of intent flipped the scrap-metal story in Morissette v. United States.
- It pushed better site data. I now log rain, flow, and photographs like a hawk.
- It let small sites make a fair case. Not every damp spot is a federal case, literally.
What bugged me
- Two tests, one project. For years, that meant long memos and mixed signals. Having to juggle the two Rapanos tests felt like arguing consent rules after United States v. Matlock—everyone swears they know the standard, but it shifts room to room.
- Local patchwork. One district leaned Kennedy; another talked Scalia. Clients hate coin flips.
- Extra cost for folks with thin margins. Farmers, small builders, even city parks felt it.
I know — I just said it helped. It did. But it also tangled us up. Both can be true. Let me explain. The case gave us words. But it split the map. You could be right and still wait.
Little details that saved me time
- I keep a cheap trail cam pointed at a suspect swale for two weeks. Video beats guesses.
- I carry Munsell soil charts and a small hand auger. Hydric soil can settle an argument fast.
- I draw a simple flow sketch for clients — raindrop to river. If they can see it, they can plan it.
- I note culverts, storm drains, and tiles. Hidden pipes make or break “connection.”
- I try to build in a “good-faith buffer”—kind of like the leeway officers got in Herring v. United States—so a small record slip doesn’t sink the whole file.
Since Sackett changed the game
- The “significant nexus” test isn’t the star now.
- “Continuous surface connection” matters most.
- But Rapanos still gives me handy lines and logic. Judges wrote it; reviewers still read it.
The abrupt shelfing of “significant nexus” felt a bit like how the “clear and present danger” test from Schenck v. United States eventually made way for new First Amendment metrics—doctrine moves, practitioners adapt.
Example: In late 2024, a school track rebuild near Tulsa had a wet patch after storms. No clear surface tie to a named creek. Under Sackett, no federal permit. We still followed state rules and used a clean erosion plan. Rapanos terms kept the write-up crisp.
Who should care
- Builders who touch soggy ground in spring
- Farmers planning crossings or new tiles
- City staff fixing parks and trails
- Environmental teams who like photos more than fights
Field seasons can also drag my college interns—many of whom are balancing coursework with long days in the mud—away from their usual social circles. If you’re a student in the same boat and looking to connect with peers after hours, the site College Girls offers a quick way to meet other local college women and arrange low-key hangouts, letting you recharge socially before diving back into soil probes and flow measurements.
Consultants who find themselves on assignment around the Puget Sound often hole up in Kirkland hotels while waiting for lab results or agency callbacks. If you’ve got an unexpected free evening and want to scope out the local nightlife without wandering aimlessly, browsing the listings on Backpage Kirkland can give you a fast rundown of who’s hosting events, meet-ups, and social mixers nearby, saving you from scrolling through a dozen separate apps to find something fun to do.
Quick pros and cons, from my boots
Pros:
- Clear words to sort water types
- Better field habits and data
- A shield, sometimes, for small projects
Cons:
- Years of mixed outcomes and delay
- Extra work to cover both readings
- Confusion across districts
My bottom line
Rapanos isn’t cute or simple. But it’s useful. It taught me to slow down, measure, and show my work. It also made me write 40-page memos when I wanted five. You know what? I still keep it in my bag.
If you touch dirt that holds water, learn the terms, take the photos, and mind your state rules. Call it a 3.5 out of