Land Moves but They Won’t : Rolling Hills: The Flying Triangle is sliding again, destroying houses and leaving concrete debris perched dangerously near some residents. But those who remain have learned to adapt and are resigned to the problem.

The Flying Triangle landslide is the stuff of nightmares: walls cracking, windows breaking, million-dollar homes literally splitting in half.

But for many homeowners in the 90-acre landslide area of the Palos Verdes Peninsula, these are just routine dangers. They accept the fact that the land under them is slowly moving, and choose to stay in favor of the steep canyons and picturesque views of the Pacific Ocean and Catalina Island.

The triangle area is a wedge of land between Paintbrush and Little Klondike canyons that slopes south from Crest Road in Rolling Hills. Once again the earth is moving, and this time the issue is the remnants of a house that was torn down in 1985 because of the slide.

The problem is how to abate the dangers posed by the old foundation slabs and a swimming pool on an abandoned lot at 62 Portuguese Bend Road. Massive blocks of concrete are slowly sliding onto neighboring properties, and the earth movement is leaving gaping fissures in the three-acre lot.

After months of hearings, the Rolling Hills City Council has declared the foundations and swimming pool an unsightly hazard and ordered the owners, James and Sonya Evans, to clean up the property.

The Evanses, who now live in Winter Haven, Fla., are balking at a city order to bulldoze the old driveway and foundation and fill the pool. Homeowners who live down the hill from the property, meanwhile, are worried that slabs of concrete might come tumbling down the slope.

The dilemma has grabbed the attention of residents of Rolling Hills, an exclusive area that guards its privacy by erecting gates to keep the rest of the world out.

“People in Rolling Hills like to protect their privacy,” Mayor Gordana Swanson said. As a rule, even officials often don’t talk to outsiders.

The dramatic Flying Triangle story began 13 years ago, when residents noticed cracks in Portuguese Bend Road, the only access into the area. Since then the original roadbed--and nearby home sites--have moved a hundred feet or more down the slope.

The slide land rests on thin layers of bentonite clay deep under tons of earth and rock, geologists report. When the clay gets wet, it acts like a greasy runway. The massive weight of earth and rock breaks free and slides downhill, much like a sled skidding slowly down a slippery runway.

Originally there were 30 homes tucked away in the triangle, most located on three- to five-acre lots and some with swimming pools, barns, horse riding rings and trails set under whispering pines. The slide has claimed half a dozen, and the others remain in various states of disrepair. Some are untouched, while others have a garage or maybe a corner room going one way, the house the other.

Geologists say the area was stable when many of the residents moved into these canyons almost four decades ago. The land started creeping again in 1979, moving in two directions. The west part is headed into Paintbrush Canyon, moving two or three feet a year; the other, smaller section is moving faster, traveling nine or 10 feet a year along Little Klondike Canyon on the east side of the triangle.

Sometimes the movement slows, when the weather is dry. But when it rains, residents say, the sliding speeds up.

“You just have to come to terms with it,” said Ron Dessy, a businessman who has lived in the area 35 years. “People here either decided to live with (the slide) or they bulldozed (their damaged houses) and walked away . . . going to live someplace else.”

While the legal controversy over who was liable for the slide damage to area homes ended a year ago--22 homeowners settled out of court with various agencies for about $16 million--other thorny disputes still must be resolved.

And one of those lingering disputes involves the Evans property at 62 Portuguese Bend Road.

The Evanses were among the unfortunate owners who lost everything. Unknowingly, they had built their dream house in the late 1970s directly over what would become the fastest moving part of the slide. By 1986, all that was left was the foundation slab and the swimming pool, which are moving toward the houses of Dessy and his neighbor below on Pinto Road.

“It was absolutely agonizing, watching the pipes and windows breaking,” Sonya Evans said in a telephone interview from her home in Florida. The structure was so badly damaged, the city ordered them to tear it down. She said they were told to leave the slab and pool in place.

Now the city is forcing them to clean up the site and cover it with earth. Sonya Evans said they might decide to fight the order.

Specifically, the city has ordered the Evanses to bulldoze their old driveway and walkways and dump the debris in the pool. The fissures must also be filled and the foundation slabs and pool covered by a thick blanket of packed earth.

Neighbors say the council’s action did not go far enough and want the slabs and pool removed entirely.

“I’m glad the city took some action, but just declaring the place a hazard and ordering the slab and pool covered over isn’t enough,” said Charles Raine, owner of a nearby home and two barns that are in the slide path. “I don’t think the slab’s going to land on top of my house tomorrow or the next day, but we’re afraid it’s eventually going to block the canyon . . . dam up the (storm) runoff and that that’ll cause more problems,” he said.

The slide fault line runs directly through Raine’s three acres off Pinto Road. Before he bought the property several years ago, the slide literally cut in half a 4,000-square-foot house that was originally built there. Half the house was destroyed and later demolished, the remaining half is on relatively stable ground, he said.

Raine, a real estate broker, grew up in the area and knows it well. His mother’s house, just down the street, has been placed on a platform of steel girders and is riding the earth’s creeping movement. He expects to do the same to his house, soon.

“We bought half a house five years ago because we love it up here,” he said. Because of the slide, he was able to buy the property relatively cheaply. The father of a 21-month-old girl, he added, “This is such a great place for kids to grow up.”

Dessy, who lives below the Evans property and next door to Raine, said the slide fault line runs across his patio between the house and swimming pool. Early on, it was obvious the pool and the house were going their separate ways, he said.

Five years ago, Dessy cut his house lose from its foundation, jacked it up and then lowered it onto a specially built framework of steel I-beams, all at a cost of about $150,000. It was the only way to save the house, which was being torn apart.

The steel frame rests on five wooden cribs that can be raised or lowered to keep the house level. Using 80-ton-capacity jacks, he resets the cribs and levels the house once every three or four months.

“You know it’s time when the water in the sink and bathtub run to one side and eggs roll off the countertops,” he said.

The swimming pool that was once level with the back door now sits 20 feet above the house. The pool and deck mark the level of the house before it started downhill on its own.

“The rest of my land is fairly stable. It just so happened I built my house on the quarter-acre that’s moving,” he said. The pool is still usable, but scrambling up the steep side of the fault is difficult.

What he worries about most are the slab and pool on the Evans property. He fears that chunks of concrete will eventually come down through his property.

“We’re in a bad situation here,” Dessy said. His neighbor, Raine, agreed.

“Sooner or later, that slab and the pool are going to have to be dealt with,” he said.