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Half Moon Bay Review This is the third of a three-part series on the history of Devil's Slide. No one was thinking tunnel on Jan. 20,
1995. In fact, very few people were thinking about Devil's Slide at all. The attention of many Coastsiders was focused on the unprecedented run of huge waves at Mavericks, where famed surfer Mark Foo had died in a freak accident
just before Christmas. Others were watching the shores of their own neighborhood beaches erode, battered by rain for 27 out of 29 days. Lawsuits had shut down progress on the Devil's Slide bypass since 1986 and the issue had
fallen off most people's radar. Only a handful of people were still thinking about Devil's Slide when the startling reports began to spread that Highway 1 between Montara and Pacifica was being shut down yet again because the
mountain was sliding toward the ocean and taking a large piece of the highway with it. Suddenly, the Coastside again found itself shut off from the rest of the county and branded "the world's largest cul-de-sac."
But environmentalists were not caught flat-footed. While CalTrans and its attorneys had focused for 10 years on overcoming the legal obstacles to building a bypass, a small band of bypass opponents had a year earlier gone back
to square one in hopes of finding a new way out of the 35-year stalemate. Their efforts, borne out of frustration with the endless legal maneuvering, and a growing belief that CalTrans was ultimately going to win in court,
prepared the Coastside environmental community to play a pivotal role in reorienting the debate over what to do with Devil's Slide. Appeals running out In 1993 Chris Thollaug, a Montara resident and activist in the
Sierra Club's national office in San Francisco, was having misgivings about leaving the fate of Devil's Slide up to the courts. "We saw that the decision was getting close in the courts and it was kind of an end-game
legally," Thollaug recalls. "All the appeals were running out." "Whatever happened, we needed a re-engaged community," he said. "The issue was how you get people back engaged because the last major
effort had peaked in 1984." So in March of 1993 with the blessing of Carl Pope, executive director of the Sierra Club, Thollaug left his paid job with the Sierra Club to initiate a campaign to train a cadre of experts to
proselytize against the bypass in hopes of swaying the San Mateo County Board of Supervisors. Thollaug withdrew $20,000 from his own bank account to act as seed money for the effort. Thirty people signed up for a training
session in May. Thollaug also went to work assembling a thorough history of the Devil's Slide issue with the aim of arming the revitalized anti-bypass forces with the kind of detailed, authoritative information that usually only
developers and the professional public relations firms they hire are able to bring to bear in the political arena. Throughout 1994 the group, which included longtime slide warriors Nancy Maule and Olive Mayer and energetic and
savvy newcomers like Kate Smit, held get-togethers with resident groups to spread the word. That summer they found two powerful allies when county supervisors Ted Lempert and Ruben Barrales repudiated the bypass, capturing
headlines across Bay Area newspapers and giving the nascent campaign a big public relations boost. But without a third supervisor to join them, hopes of derailing the bypass legislatively continued to languish.
Highway 1 shut down Everything changed on Jan. 20, 1995. Devil's Slide was on the move again, slipping as much as a foot a day at its peak. The road wound up being closed for five months, during which CalTrans spent nearly
$1 million in stabilization efforts. The closure sent economic and psychological shock waves along the coast. Commuters turned Highway 92 into a parking lot for several hours each morning as it became the only route to their jobs
on the Peninsula. The 14-mile drive from Montara to the Crystal Springs Reservoir took between one and two hours, prompting San Francisco radio station KCBS to nickname their daily coverage of the highway "the hostage
commute." Every day the highway was shut down, business owners intensified the pressure for action that would not only reopen the road but also prevent such disruptions from ever occurring again. George Auld, with
Westinghouse Properties, the successor to developers who had tried to push through the bypass 10 and 20 years before, urged action. "Now, as expected, enough Coastside residents are affected that it is time to renew the
call to build the bypass," he said in a letter to the editor of the Half Moon Bay Review. Bolstered by the formidable research and renewed enthusiasm they had developed over the previous year, bypass opponents were able to
credibly fend off accusations that they were responsible for nothing being done. "The closure really drew people in," recalls Tim Duff, an activist on coastal protection issues since 1985 and now employed at the
California Coastal Conservancy. "I think we'd have been hosed if we didn't have (the organization in place) then," Thollaug said. Pro-bypass factions hammered environmentalists for supporting the Marine Disposal
Alternative (MDA) and accused them of hypocrisy for turning a blind eye to the damage it would do to marine life. The MDA proposed sloughing off the unstable side of San Pedro Mountain into the ocean. MDA rejected But
bypass supporters did not know that just days after Highway 1 shut down the foundation of the anti-bypass campaign had been shaken badly. The MDA, which had been the solution touted by environmentalists since the mid-1980s, had
reluctantly been discarded. Ed Ueber, manager of the northern half of the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary, which includes Devil's Slide, instigated the turnabout. At a meeting in his Presidio office with Mayer, Thollaug,
Joe Barnwell, and Bill Bechtell, Ueber recalled how he felt burned by CalTrans over a marine disposal project in Marin County a couple of years earlier. He told the group that he would never allow the MDA because it would harm
the surrounding marine environment. "It was a bombshell," Barnwell recalled later, "a blockbuster revelation. I remember I drove Olive back in a driving rainstorm and we had to let things settle. We couldn't
figure out what to do. Obviously, this put the whole campaign in question." Within a month environmental leaders were regrouping around the idea of a tunnel through the mountain behind the unstable slide plane. The idea
formally arose as an aside from a panel of geologists assembled by Supervisor Lempert and his chief aide, Matthew Greenberg, to brainstorm short-term ideas for fixing Highway 1. Think tunnel in 1972
Drilling through San Pedro mountain was not a new idea. The earliest discussions about tunneling to solve Highway 1's problems date back to the spring of 1972. Environmental groups were poised to sue to stop the bypass and were
fishing around for anything to throw into the debate. During the previous two years Ken Lajoie, a geologist with the United States Geological Survey's Menlo Park office, had studied San Mateo County coastal erosion and hazards
and had become known in local professional circles as knowledgeable on the area's geology. Maule called Lajoie to see if he had any suggestions. Almost offhandedly Lajoie sent her a letter outlining options, including tunneling
behind the landslide. He also included a sketch of a possible route a tunnel could take - one that virtually mirrors the route currently planned. "I wrote that letter to Nancy Maule and then the (CalTrans) people I'd
communicated with contacted me and said this woman had gone to one of their public meetings about a tunnel. Could they come down and talk to me about it? "I asked them at that meeting, 'What do you think of tunnels?' (They
said) 'Oh, it'd solve the problem, but we don't build tunnels.' They said something about tunnels being expensive, and I said 'Freeways are expensive, too.'" Apart from Lajoie's unofficial suggestion, and a formal proposal
by Mayer and the Sierra Club in 1973, little thought was given to a tunnel for another 22 years. The final environmental impact report prepared in 1985 for the Martini Creek bypass devoted a meager two paragraphs to the idea. It
dismissed a tunnel as too expensive (estimated at $100 million then). But in the winter of 1995 with Highway 1 shut down and environmentalists scrambling to come up with a replacement for the dead Marine Disposal Alternative, the
tunnel was resurrected. The idea resonated with the public. The demographic picture of the Coastside had been transformed in recent years by a surge of new arrivals moving to the coast, many of whom were liberal,
activist-oriented and supportive of conservation and environmental protection at the expense of new development. Managers at CalTrans had hoped that a crisis such as the one the coast underwent in 1995 would galvanize support for
the bypass. But as the weeks of closure turned into months, residents' desperation turned to frustration with CalTrans. Montaran Michelle Giacomino-Gotelli expressed a sentiment prevalent at the time in a letter to the Review:
"By our anger and frustration, we are playing right into CalTrans' hands. They want us to get upset enough so we will end up saying: 'Hurry up! Do something! Build the bypass!'" Buried memo surfaces In late
April with momentum beginning to build for a tunnel, Pacifican Mitch Reid struck gold. Through a California Public Records Act request, Reid got hold of a copy of a 1993 CalTrans memo the agency had tried to keep buried. It
belied CalTrans' repeated statements that a tunnel had been studied and rejected. The memo, by Caltrans chief of structures James Roberts, said that the agency had little information on tunnels, in part because the last one it
had built had been in the 1970s. Roberts concluded that a single-bore, 46-foot-wide tunnel could be built for $77 million. The memo also refuted a claim made in March 1995 by CalTrans District Manager Joe Browne that a tunnel
was unacceptable because it would disturb McNee Ranch State Park. Armed with Reid's information, the Pacifica City Council weighed in 4-0 in favor of demanding that CalTrans officially study a tunnel further. That and the same
action by the Midcoast Community Council the following week began to turn the tide against the bypass and in favor of a tunnel. CalTrans didn't help its own cause. In September when the Federal Highways Administration insisted
that CalTrans formally study a tunnel, Greg Bayol, the agency's public relations spokesman, set off a controversy with his response. "We'll re-evaluate it and say a tunnel is too expensive," Bayol said, re-enforcing
the belief that the agency was biased in favor of the bypass. By the time the tunnel campaign kicked off on Nov. 14, it had gained enough steam that collecting the 23,000 signatures necessary to qualify Measure T for the ballot
was a breeze. Maule likes dewatering One person who was not at all pleased with the emergence of the tunnel was ardent bypass opponent Maule. The beauty and majesty that motorists enjoy today driving along the ocean
route is irreplaceable, she insists. Maule split away from the Committee for the Permanent Repair of Highway 1, which she helped found, over its support for a tunnel. The rift cost Maule not only in terms of her longtime
partnership in the bypass litigation wars with Mayer and Lennie Roberts, with the Committee for Green Foothills. It also cost Maule the friendship the three women had forged over the previous 23 years. She has rarely spoken with
them since. Since then Maule has not receded from the Devil's Slide fight. She remains resolutely opposed to the tunnel solution. Shortly after the tunnel's emergence Maule turned her attention to advocating a plan to make
improvements in and around the existing road to remove the water from the mountain to prevent future slides. The technique is known as dewatering. Berkeley geologist Dr. John Hovland studied the idea independently and
extensively. He concluded that dewatering would stabilize the mountain and keep it open for many years to come. A small band of Coastsiders, including Maule, Michael Murphy, Vic Abadie, and Roger Goodrich, continues to press for
more consideration of dewatering. CalTrans also studied the idea and concluded that it was not a feasible solution. Other than implementing less extensive improvements than Hovland recommended to stabilize the mountain on a
short-term basis, dewatering has not been pursued. Much of 1996 was spent haggling with CalTrans to ensure that the study of the tunnel was impartial. Finally on Oct. 7 the tunnel study, which was little more than a doodled
drawing by Lajoie in 1972, was released showing that the cost for a tunnel, $148 million, was about the same as the cost for the Martini Creek bypass. Measure T instituting the tunnel as the preferred solution for Devil's Slide
was passed on Nov. 5 by 74 percent of San Mateo County voters. The only two precincts in the county where a majority of voters did not vote yes were Half Moon Bay's Ocean Colony subdivision and the adjacent Higgins Canyon
precinct. Since then Measure T has survived a court challenge by Higgins Canyon resident Oscar Braun, scrutiny by the California Coastal Commission, continued pressure from dewatering advocates, and a splintering of some of the
original support for the tunnel by a faction that rejects twin bores instead of a single, narrower bi-directional tunnel. Will a tunnel be built? Will a tunnel finally be built, finally putting the Devil's Slide issue to
rest, or will an opponent waiting in the wings emerge to send it back to court or off in a new direction? History would suggest that anyone looking to bet on finality at Devil's Slide ought to get pretty long odds. Even if
CalTrans receives final environmental approval, it is expected to take another two years to transform a 1996 preliminary design study into the final design, followed by another three years to actually build it.
That puts a tunnel opening at 2006 at the earliest. Funding could also become problematic. Two years ago congress granted the tunnel project emergency funding, available when the project is ready to be built. Where exactly the
money will come from, however, has never been spelled out in detail. Also, the emergency funding provision was included as part of the TEA 21, a wide-ranging transportation appropriation which expires on Sept. 30, 2003. The tunnel
project may have to get a new authorization for funding if construction is not under way by then. Michael Murphy, a determined proponent of dewatering, doesn't believe a tunnel is in the cards. He's been trying to get the TV
newsmagazine "60 Minutes" interested in a story on the tunnels as an example of wasteful government spending. "I don't think the tunnel will be built, due to my faith that even a politician would not select a $200
million solution when a $10 million solution will do," Murphy said. "The split in coast environmentalists over the CalTrans design gives me hope that the politicians will listen to an alternative that clearly is not
coming from development interests." Nevertheless, the consensus of some former adversaries is that the tunnel is the project that will finally push through to completion. Paul Azevedo, a columnist for the Pacifica Tribune,
has been following Devil's Slide since he moved to Pacifica in the early 1960s. For years he staunchly supported the bypass and questioned other proposals. But the passage of Measure T combined with the passage of time has blunted
his criticism. He now believes a tunnel is inevitable, though he isn't convinced he'll live to see it. Green Foothills' Roberts, who has fought a bypass since the early 1970s, is confident to the point where she says she has
actually developed trust in CalTrans. "They're not behaving in the same way as they have in previous years," she said. Bachtold, the former CalTrans district director and bypass supporter, is likewise convinced the
tunnel will be built. "It's gone much further than the bypass in the environmental process," Bachtold said. "Knowing what the process is we're much further along than the bypass. "Now it's on the very final
legs," he added. "There's not much to do but built it." And Mayer, an icon of endurance and commitment to many environmentalists involved in Devil's Slide, is firmly convinced of the tunnel's place in the future of
Highway 1. But as a fighter for more than 30 years on the issue, she is quick to warn against complacency. She believes the bypass will be dead once and for all only when CalTrans turns over the right-of-way it purchased for it
30 years ago to the state Department of Parks and Recreation. And that has not yet happened. "I think we just have to keep pushing, keep pushing for construction, keep pushing for funding, and never take it for granted
that the tunnel will be built." Read the first article in this series, " Read the second article in this series, " |
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