Las Pulgas Canyon On Sale For $25 Million

Neighbors Fear Development and the Loss of L.A.’s “Last Wild” Canyon

The following is not an excerpt from the archives of the Palisadian-Post: Las Pulgas Canyon is for sale–and for ‘only $25 million,’ according to its Sotheby’s listing. On October 2, when the property came on the market, prospective buyers and interested neighbors were treated to obstacle-jumping horses, free lunch and an invitation to what its realtor, Rodrigo Iglesias, calls a ‘once-in-a-lifetime opportunity’ to build one’s ‘own dream estate in Los Angeles.’ The buyer wealthy enough to purchase the coastal canyon east of Sunset Boulevard and west of Temescal Canyon Road will lay claim to 16 lots, a three-bedroom, two-bath 1930s-era ranch house, the former dwelling site of the Gabrielino Indians, six horse corrals, ‘beautiful ocean vistas,’ hiking trails and waterfalls–and 33 acres fraught with a history (and probable future) of political headaches and geological calamity. For members of the nonprofit Save Las Pulgas Canyon, Inc. (SLPC), it’s deja vu all over again. Mostly residents from the canyon’s rim along finger-like streets–Grenola, Marquette, Bienveneda, Muskingum and Puerto del Mar–SLPC members spent thousands of hours in the late 1980s and early 90s rallying against development there. Now, its leaders and organizers find themselves preparing to fight yesterday’s long, epic land-use battle today and wanting closure more than ever. ‘This issue should be settled once and for all,’ says Puerto del Mar resident Bob Locker, who has helped restart SLPC. ‘It’s been hanging over residents’ heads for years.’ In 1989, then-owner and would-be developer Neil Senturia presented his plan to build 45 single-family homes (down from more than 125 homes in previous years) in the canyon. That proposal, and the illegal bulldozing of the canyon’s vegetation-rich floor that preceded it, incited residents into action. They raised money, hired lawyers, land-use consultants and archaeologists and lobbied the city, county and state to protect ‘the last undeveloped coastal canyon in Los Angeles’ from development that they say threatened its natural springs and abundant ecosystem of birds, deer, coyotes and bobcats–and their property values. Owing as much to their political effort as nature’s obstacles, Senturia’s vision of a subdivided canyon went down in flames. Geologists described the canyon as practically un-developable. In fact, an extensive, independent valuation study commissioned by the SLPC and the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy in 1990 estimated that the property was worth negative $10.5 million. It cited a flood-prone creek, ‘inadequate’ drainage and water runoff, unstable soil and hillsides pockmarked by landslides. (A collapsed dam still sits on the property, a witness to–and victim of–devastating floods in 1979.) The study’s conclusion was damning: The price that Senturia’s company, Pulgas Canyon Venture, had asked for the property fell from $10.1 million to $5.9 million and then kept falling. The conservancy, which residents and local activists had urged to buy the property in hopes of preserving it as open space, declined to purchase it at any price because of the canyon’s hazardous liability. By the time real-estate investor Barry Maiten bought the property in 1996, the asking price of the canyon had fallen below $1.4 million–the exact purchase price is unknown. Maiten has owned the property ever since but has made no improvements to brace the property against its geology. ‘Nothing has changed there [since I was involved],’ said Jack Allen, a lawyer and former president of the Pacific Palisades Residents Association, which has opposed development there since the late 1980s. ‘There’s been no remedial work, so selling it for $25 million is crazy. If that were mine, I’d be glad if I could give it away. As the property owner, you’re liable for the property of the dozens of houses that surround it. Whoever owns it owns the liability! Allen added: ‘Mother nature is going to have its impact regardless. That’s the history of the Palisades. It’s been going on for 100 million years. You can slow it down, buy you can’t stop it. It’s a big gamble.’ Maiten would not respond to the Post’s request for an interview. However, his realtor, Iglesias, contends that the property’s sale price is realistic. ‘What [Maiten] paid and what some nutcase said in 1990 is irrelevant,’ says Iglesias, referring to the market-valuation study. ‘If you look at all the different land sales with about three or four acres that have flat land in the Palisades or Brentwood, they sell for $200 per square foot for the flat land. There’s nine flat acres of level land in Las Pulgas. There are properties that have been sold all over the Palisades with [geological] problems like this.’ Still, Iglesias acknowledges that geological and political obstacles pose barriers to construction in Las Pulgas. Of the property’s 16 lots, 12 lie on a steep, landslide-stricken hillside with no direct road access; two are on Pacific Coast Highway; and the rest of the canyon, largely resting on uncompacted fill, is one lot. In the property’s first two weeks on the market, no one has made a bid, according to Iglesias. In recognition of widespread community opposition to large-scale development in Las Pulgas, the realtor says he is prioritizing buyers who want to build a ‘large, single-family estate.’ ‘What I am trying to accomplish is what’s best for the neighborhood and what’s best for the buyer,’ Iglesias says. ‘That would be a single-family home.’ Lloyd Ahern, who once led the SLPC, isn’t convinced of the property’s viability or its current price tag. He moved to Malibu in 1997, but he said he plans to spearhead the organization’s efforts to fight development. ‘Anyone who does their due diligence will spend a year and realize they can’t do anything with it,’ Ahern says. ‘It’s uncompacted fill. The canyon is more geologically unstable than Potrero [Canyon]. What it means is that it’s a fool’s journey to go into this canyon!’ Ahern and other SLPC members say they want the conservancy to consider buying the property again and permanently protecting its habitat. Frances Tibbits lives on Puerto del Mar in a house overlooking the canyon. As a former member of the SLPC, she fought against its development. Tibbits rejoined the nonprofit last year when it reformed to fight Maiten’s installation of thirteen 20-ft streetlights–a conflict still unresolved. But she doesn’t fear an imminent or even realistic threat of development. ‘Twenty-five million dollars is a lot of money for an unstable canyon,’ she says. ‘And frankly, I don’t think it’s going to happen. I’m having a hard time getting excited about it.’ —– To contact Staff Writer Max Taves, e-mail reporter@palipost.com or call (310) 454-1321 ext. 28.