Marc Catlin drawing on youth football, rafting and Bigfoot for inspiration as he ‘graduates’ to Senate

By Jen Schumann | Contributing Writer, Rocky Mountain Voice

In preparation of his move to Colorado’s upper chamber for the 75th legislative session, Marc Catlin has reflected upon a time in which he coached youth football.

“There was a little boy who came up to me and said, ‘Coach, I think something is wrong with me’,” Catlin recalls. “When I asked him what he meant, he said, ‘It feels funny inside.’ I told him, ‘Well, that’s just butterflies. If you don’t have those, you’re not gonna play well.’ And that little critter played like a tiger that day.”

The newly-elected state senator views his new role through a lens of humor, humility and determination.

“If you don’t have some anxiety about it, you’re probably not thinking about it,” he said.

He served as a state representative since 2017, and now brings his experience on Colorado water issues to the Senate.

Catlin made another comparison while considering the new role in the Colorado General Assembly. He compared it to advancing in grade school.

“You know what to do, but you’re not sure yet,” he said. “So, you’ve got to go in there and get comfortable.”

Catlin described 2024 as a year of contrasts, using a river metaphor to capture the ups and downs: “There were times it felt like whitewater rafting — you’re shooting up to the curl of the wave, about to get thrown out of the raft,” he recalled.

Contentious debates, particularly over gun control, made for choppy waters, he says, while his own district-specific bills sailed through more smoothly.

“I try not to take on bills that are so high-profile people are worried about them,” Catlin explained. “I do bills that are specific to my district, and they usually pass.”

The toughest challenge for Catlin, however, was the implementation of Colorado’s Wolf Reintroduction Program. He criticized the program for being rushed and poorly thought out, leading to mistrust among ranchers and significant costs.

“You can’t leave the ranchers out,” he stressed. “This is their livelihood, and we need to fine-tune this program before moving forward.”

Despite his years of experience, Catlin is approaching his Senate role with humility, acknowledging the challenges of being a “freshman” again. Reflecting on his time in the House, he joked about the playful “smack” he used to dish out to senators.

“I used to kid and tease my senator friends, ‘Hey, I know you’re a senator because your chest came through the door before you did’,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll be hearing about that one for a while!”

He also poked fun at the Senate’s reputation for being more laid back: “Well, why don’t you go back to the red room of doom and take a nap? Because that’s what you senators are always doing!” With a laugh, he added, “All the smack I threw, now I’m gonna receive it.”

On a more serious note, Catlin expressed hope for bridging political divides in Colorado: “If the wind blows the fence down, you don’t ask if your neighbor is a Democrat. You ask, ‘Want to work on that fence this weekend?’ That’s the kind of collaboration we need right now.”

As one of Colorado’s leading voices on water policy, Catlin is no stranger to the complexities of managing the vital resource. With the expiration of operations agreements for key reservoirs looming, Catlin foresees tough negotiations ahead.

He firmly opposes the idea of mandatory curtailment for Colorado water users and hopes to avoid a “call up the river” — a legal requirement for Colorado to send additional water downstream. “There’s a certain attitude when you give in and say, ‘Well, it’s coming.’ I’m not sure that call is inevitable,” he said, emphasizing the need for proactive solutions.

Catlin remains dedicated to the Colorado River Compact, which obligates upper basin states to deliver 7.5 million acre-feet of water annually on a 10-year average. He pointed out that in wet years, Colorado has often exceeded this, sending up to 9.5 million acre-feet downstream. “We’ve over-delivered in a lot of years, but water rules don’t give you credit for that,” he explained.

The economic ripple effects of curtailment also weigh heavily on Catlin’s mind.

“Irrigated agriculture generates $300 to $500 per acre in economic activity,” he pointed out. “If a field goes dry for three years, it takes years to recover. That’s money lost to Main Street.”

Looking ahead, Catlin hopes for fair negotiations between the upper and lower basin states, ensuring that Colorado farmers and ranchers have a seat at the table.

“We need to listen to the producers,” he said. “They know their ground better than anyone, and if we don’t take their input seriously, we’ll miss a lot of the facts.”

Catlin’s humor and personality shine through, bringing a lighthearted touch to his serious role. When asked about a playful legislative resolution, he joked about introducing a bill to grant Bigfoot endangered species protection: “Everything in Colorado has its own license plate, so why not Bigfoot?” he quipped.

Catlin shared that his daughter loves this idea and frequently teases him about it, asking if he’ll ever follow through with the Bigfoot bill. Reflecting on the humor, he noted: “If I ever retire, I might just go look for Bigfoot myself. But for now, I’ll represent him in the legislature.” 

As he looks to 2025, Catlin’s guiding principle is clear: “Do no harm. Let’s tweak what we know is working.” 

He believes small, steady changes have a more lasting impact than big reforms.

“When I first got to the Capitol, I wanted to make big changes,” Catlin said. “But I quickly learned that sometimes those ideas just don’t hold up — they’re unconstitutional or impractical. That was a humbling experience, and it taught me to focus on realistic steps to get things done.”

Catlin tied this approach back to his core belief: “This is about the people’s business. It’s not personal. We’re here to do what’s best for the people of Colorado.”

He stresses the value of working together and truly listening, both in the legislature and with constituents: “You can’t let anger cloud your judgment. When people get angry, they stop listening, and that’s when the real trouble starts.”

Ending on a hopeful note, Catlin observed a shift in public sentiment: “I see more smiles in the grocery stores. Some kind of relief has come to people.” 

The New Year represents not just a new role, but an opportunity to work collaboratively and build a stronger future for Colorado, he says.