Topanga Canyon Development And Redevelopment

A solitary oak tree gave Topanga Canyon environmental activists an opening to bring on a county investigation into construction of three proposed houses along Topanga Skyline Road. Alan Pacella, who identified himself as a music video producer, had applied for a routine building permit to construct a two-bedroom house. The project required Board of Supervisors approval only because Pacella wanted to remove an oak tree to build his driveway.

The nearly 16-year battle over what was ultimately called the Canyon Oaks Estates drew dozens, perhaps hundreds, into the political fray: from ex-hippie homeowners to union construction workers; from wildlife activists to Walt Disney's daughter. Here are a few of the players who shaped the discourse and helped fashion the surprise deal that may preserve as open space the 257-acre property and more than 400 surrounding acres.

For many, the most eloquent opponent of a gated housing tract and golf course in Topanga Canyon ended six hours of testimony Wednesday without a word, not even a "brrr-deep." The green tree frog, fished out of Topanga Creek by a local artist, just sat there, silently reminding Los Angeles County planning commissioners of the wildlife that opponents say is threatened by the proposed 97-unit project just south of Woodland Hills.

The longest land-use dispute in Los Angeles County history came to a startling conclusion Thursday as the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy announced that it would buy the site of a controversial proposed development in Topanga Canyon--just minutes before the Board of Supervisors was to vote on the project.

The longest-running land-use dispute in Los Angeles County history dragged on Thursday as the Board of Supervisors delayed until March its decision on a luxury housing project and golf course proposed for Topanga Canyon. After listening to more than two hours of testimony, supervisors asked county planners to prepare a report explaining how current plans for Canyon Oaks Estates differ from a similar proposal the board rejected in 1991.

Why did Los Angeles County Supervisor Deane Dana look so relieved when he lost Malibu to his colleague, Ed Edelman, in the recent redrawing of political boundaries? And why did Supervisor Mike Antonovich walk away looking smug when he handed over Topanga Canyon, also to Edelman? If you didn't know L.A., you'd think politicians would hate to give up representing two such beautiful, affluent, politically active places. Lovely, surfside Malibu is loaded with super-rich campaign contributors.

Despite the odds, Christopher Wojciechowski remains confident. Nevermind that, after 13 years of buying land, planning and lobbying, he still has not received permits to build his proposed Montevideo Country Club in rustic Topanga Canyon. Nevermind that he has filed for bankruptcy--listing $28 million in debts--or that he is looking for an investor to pump $145 million into the project to get it back on track.

Caltrans workers have removed about 100 homemade signs from Topanga Canyon Boulevard but returned them after community members tracked the placards to a Caltrans storage site. "We got over a 100 complaints from as far away as Santa Barbara," Dennis Cutting, a state Department of Transportation maintenance supervisor, said Thursday about the signs, which were posted to protest a proposed housing development. "So we took them down."

Who picked up the tab for lunch was not on the Los Angeles County Regional Planning Commission's agenda, but the question nonetheless intrigued many of the 200 or so people who crowded the board's downtown hearing room.

The nearly 16-year battle over what was ultimately called the Canyon Oaks Estates drew dozens, perhaps hundreds, into the political fray: from ex-hippie homeowners to union construction workers; from wildlife activists to Walt Disney's daughter. Here are a few of the players who shaped the discourse and helped fashion the surprise deal that may preserve as open space the 257-acre property and more than 400 surrounding acres.

The longest land-use dispute in Los Angeles County history came to a startling conclusion Thursday as the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy announced that it would buy the proposed site of a controversial development in Topanga Canyon--just minutes before the Board of Supervisors was to vote on the project.

Caltrans workers have removed about 100 homemade signs from Topanga Canyon Boulevard but returned them after community members tracked the placards to a Caltrans storage site. "We got over a 100 complaints from as far away as Santa Barbara," Dennis Cutting, a state Department of Transportation maintenance supervisor, said Thursday about the signs, which were posted to protest a proposed housing development. "So we took them down."

The longest-running land-use dispute in Los Angeles County history dragged on Thursday as the Board of Supervisors delayed until March its decision on a luxury housing project and golf course proposed for Topanga Canyon. After listening to more than two hours of testimony, supervisors asked county planners to prepare a report explaining how current plans for Canyon Oaks Estates differ from a similar proposal the board rejected in 1991.

For many, the most eloquent opponent of a gated housing tract and golf course in Topanga Canyon ended six hours of testimony Wednesday without a word, not even a "brrr-deep." The green tree frog, fished out of Topanga Creek by a local artist, just sat there, silently reminding Los Angeles County planning commissioners of the wildlife that opponents say is threatened by the proposed 97-unit project just south of Woodland Hills.

Who picked up the tab for lunch was not on the Los Angeles County Regional Planning Commission's agenda, but the question nonetheless intrigued many of the 200 or so people who crowded the board's downtown hearing room.

These days, the second week of the month swoops down on Topanga Canyon with all the foreboding of a full moon over Transylvania. That's when the normally civil gossip of this mountain village turns into shrieking denunciations and outraged denials. The consternation is about an eight-page newspaper, The Balance Sheet, dedicated to "stirring up controversy and saying upsetting things about some people in the community."

The longest land-use dispute in Los Angeles County history came to a startling conclusion Thursday as the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy announced that it would buy the site of a controversial proposed development in Topanga Canyon--just minutes before the Board of Supervisors was to vote on the project.

These days, the second week of the month swoops down on Topanga Canyon with all the foreboding of a full moon over Transylvania. That's when the normally civil gossip of this mountain village turns into shrieking denunciations and outraged denials. The consternation is about an eight-page newspaper, The Balance Sheet, dedicated to "stirring up controversy and saying upsetting things about some people in the community."

Why did Los Angeles County Supervisor Deane Dana look so relieved when he lost Malibu to his colleague, Ed Edelman, in the recent redrawing of political boundaries? And why did Supervisor Mike Antonovich walk away looking smug when he handed over Topanga Canyon, also to Edelman? If you didn't know L.A., you'd think politicians would hate to give up representing two such beautiful, affluent, politically active places. Lovely, surfside Malibu is loaded with super-rich campaign contributors.

A solitary oak tree gave Topanga Canyon environmental activists an opening to bring on a county investigation into construction of three proposed houses along Topanga Skyline Road. Alan Pacella, who identified himself as a music video producer, had applied for a routine building permit to construct a two-bedroom house. The project required Board of Supervisors approval only because Pacella wanted to remove an oak tree to build his driveway.