Post #2100: Measuring road salt in drinking water, a summary.

 

This might make a good science fair project for somebody, so I’m giving this topic one final, compact write-up.

If you live in an urban area that draws its drinking water from a local river,  or other nearby flowing surface water …

… and you live in a climate where they salt the roads for winter storms,

and the weather cooperates, in the form of some distinct road-cleaning rain or melt event following a winter storm,

… you can easily infer the presence of road salt, in your drinking water,

with a cheap ($6) total-dissolved-solids (TDS) meter, a water glass, and some patience.

 

In my area — where the Potomac River is the main source of drinking water — it takes about ten days from the time the rain washes the salt off the roads and parking lots, until that salt shows up in the drinking water.  YMMV.

See posts 2085, 2086, 2088, 2089, 2090, 2091, and 2092 for background.


The required background, as a series of true statements.

We use a lot of road salt in the U.S.  Google’s AI tells me we use 20 million metric tons of it a year.  The same AI tells me we have about 230 million licensed drivers.  So I make that out to be just under 200 pounds of road salt, per licensed driver, per year.

The accepted EPA threshold for “salty taste” in the drinking water is 250 parts-per-million chloride ion.  Assuming I did the math right, 200 pounds of salt (60% chloride by weight) is enough to impart a salty taste to more than 50,000 gallons of water.   Or, enough to impart a salty taste to 0.7″ of rain, on your standard suburban quarter-acre lot.

That’s all by way of saying that, “outdoors” is a big place, but that’s still a lot of salt, even when spread outdoors.  Enough salt that you ought to be able to notice it, in the environment.

The negative effects of road salt use are well-known, including corrosion (of cars, bridges, rebar in concrete …) and pollution of surface and ground waters with the salty runoff.  In particular, nothing that lives in your local fresh-water environment really likes being subjected to a salty water.

There has been a prolonged push in the U.S. to use less road salt. Seems like that started in the late 1990s in New Hampshire, where they were discovering problems with water wells that had been, in effect, poisoned by prolonged use of salt on nearby roadways.

State DOTs and others do not use salt to melt the snow off the roads.  They plow the snow off the roads.  The salt is just there to achieve “disbondment”, that is, to prevent the packed snow and ice from freezing solidly to the pavement.  So that they can plow down to bare pavement.

The desire to use less road salt led to the now-common practice of brining the road surfaces prior to snowfalls, one of a set of techniques known as “anti-icing” (as opposed to after-the-fact de-icing).  If weather conditions are right (e.g., no rain prior to the snowfall), spraying the roads with a thin layer of salt water, then allowing that to dry, achieves “disbondment” of the initial snowfall with minimum use of salt.  Brining uses roughly one-quarter of the salt that would be required to achieve the same road-clearing result, if spread as rock salt.  (Source:  Brine Fact Sheet, 2016, American Public Works Association.)

That thin layer of salt creates a weak spot in the snow/ice layer that forms on the road.  That weak layer is what creates the “disbondment” of the ice and the underlying pavement.  That “disbondment” allows the plows to scrape the snow off the road, to get down to bare pavement.  Rock salt is also there for the disbondment, it just achieves it less efficiently.

Some of the sodium in salt tends to stay local.  This is what “burns” greenery near salted areas such as sidewalks.  But the chloride in salt travels along with the runoff, plausibly (around here) in the form of calcium chloride, formed as sodium was exchanged for calcium in the soil.

A “total dissolved solids” meter measures the electrical resistance of water, and so indirectly measures the concentrations of ions in the water.  Around here, in normal times, that would be mostly calcium and carbonate ions, as that’s the main dissolved mineral contributing to our roughly 10 grains of water hardness in this area.  But ions are ions, whether they be from calcium carbonate or sodium chloride.  And so, a total dissolved solids meter will react to salt in the water, as it would to any other ions in the water.

As a result, to the extent that road salt gets into my drinking water, this should generate a predictable rise in total dissolved solids, as measured in my tap water.  Each time the salt is flushed off the roads (by rain, say), I should see a rise in TDS in my tap water, with the appropriate lag.

In Fairfax County, it takes about a week for water to work its way from the filtration plants to the furthest taps in the system.  This is known, because Fairfax flushes the system annually (switching from chloramine to chlorine during that period), and it warns citizens about the resulting change in the smell and taste of the water, annually.  And in that warning is the factoid that it takes about a week.

All you need to track TDS in your drinking water is a cheap ($6 via Amazon) total-dissolved-solids meter, and patience.  The patience is required because, with a cheap meter, you’ll only get stable results if you allow the tap water to sit long enough to come up to room temperature.  (The underlying conductivity measurement is quite temperature-sensitive, and the cheap TDS meter that I bought takes forever to adjust to the water temperature.)

If you’re worried about your meter’s reading drifting over time, keep one water sample permanently, and use it for a reference.  Re-reading the TDS in that “reference” sample will show you that your meter’s reading is stable.  (Or, at least, that’s what it showed me.)

And, voilà:

As noted, these peaks in tap water TDS are ten days after some weather event that flushed a lot of road salt into the local creeks.  (Typically, a rainy day.)

Although the timing and magnitude are right, I have not proven that this is purely the effect of salt.  Maybe TDS goes up after every rainstorm, salt or no salt?  I think that’s unlikely, but I can’t rule it out until weather conditions are right, and we have a rainy day with no remaining salt on the roads.

Conclusion

I’m pretty sure the peaks in tap-water TDS, shown above are driven by road salt being washed off the roads.  Water filtration (short of reverse-osmosis) does not remove salt (or chloride) from the water.  And, because we drink river water, not well (ground) water or water stored in large reservoirs, that salt then shows up, in short order, in the water.

All of which tells me that these peaks look about right.

I’d like to have double-checked that it is salt, by being able to taste the saltiness in the water, but the increase in TDS was not large enough to cross the commonly-accepted threshold for salty taste (250 ppm chloride ion in the water).

Ultimately, all that’s left to show is to show that such TDS peaks don’t appear, 10 days after a rainy day, when there isn’t salt on the roads.  That way I can rule out that these TDS peaks are simply related to rainstorms.  Leaving salt (moved by rainstorm) as the only plausible explanation.

Again, the beauty as a science fair experiment is that all it takes is a cheap TDS meter, a water glass, and patience.

Post #2092: Salt rising — through 2/21/2025

 

The final post in this series is:

Post #2100: Measuring road salt in drinking water, a summary.

Original post follows:

In this post, I’m documenting the progress of my road-salt-in-my-drinking-water experiment.

Recall that:

  1. We had a half-inch of rain Friday 1/31/2025 that washed away the piles of road salt that remained from an earlier winter storm.
  2. It should take about a week for water to work its way from the Potomac River to my tap, per Fairfax County.
  3. Nothing filters salt out of the water, so the salt that got washed off the roads should show up in my tap any day now.
  4. After correcting for operator error, my tap water has shown a steady 210 ppm (parts-per-million) TDS (total dissolved solids) for the entire past week.

I am pleased (?) to report that last night’s water sample clocked in at 232 ppm.  And as of 2/8/2025, it had risen to 242 ppm.

Assuming that was not a fluke, I expect that was the beginning of the salt passing through my fresh water system.  The timing is right, in any case.

I’ll be tracking this for another few days, and will continue to document the results, here in this post.

Update 2/21/2025 sample.  The next salt spike appears in the drinking water right on time,following the ~2/13/2025 runoff of the most recent road salting.

 

Between the time of the rain, and now, my tapwater’s TDS increased by about 100 parts per million, against a relatively stable baseline of about 200 ppm baseline. The peak occurred about 10 days after the salt-clearing rainstorm.

But even if that entire increase is, in fact, due to chloride ion from road salt, we still won’t taste it in the drinking water.  The 100 ppm (presumed) chloride ion concentration in the drinking water is well below the threshold (250 ppm) above which (some?  many?) people will detect a “salty” taste to the water.  The bottom line is that, so far, this should not be a generally taste-able water saltiness event.

And that’s a good thing.

In addition, it is far from proven that the uptick in TDS of my tap water is even due to road salt.  E.g., maybe this happens after every significant rain.   But I’m betting that’s the road salt.  And even if it is driven by road salt, there has to be more in the TDS increase that just chloride ions.

It doesn’t matter.  Won’t taste this amount of salt in the water, no matter how you slice it.

In summary, there was a modest increase in my tap water’s TDS.  Timing is about right for this to reflect “salt in the tap water”, from road salt runoff of 1/31/2025.  But nothing has been proven, except that, even worst case, the ion concentration is not nearly enough to give the water a salty taste.

Edit:  As of 2/13/2025, we’re midway or better (?) through the “runoff” step of a new road salt runoff cycle.  Or, if not midway, we’ll get there and beyond today, with a predicted high in the low 50s.)  And so, we should see a smaller, smearier version of this most recent drinking water salt pulse … 2/21/2025.  It’s not clear that this simple rig, or any simple rig, would reliably let you “see” a pulse that small and ill-defined.  (And that’s assuming the measured TDS number for tap water is otherwise pretty steady from day to day.) 

OTOH, it’s no hardship to keep this going.  Just KISS.  All it takes is this cheap TDS meter, a drinking glass, and patience.

Use just one glass.  Test the water twice a day.  But you need to let that cold tap water stand a good long while, if you want a reliable reading out of a slow-read $6 meter.  So, let each sample sit half a day.  Covered.  AM and PM,  you use (and rinse) the meter, dump that water sample, run the tap and replace the water sample, and set it aside, covered. Then leave it alone.  Until it’s time to do all that again.  Repeat twice a day.

It’s idiot-proof.  And sometimes that’s a good thing.