Unusual snowstorm closes three major Southern California freeways

Snow covers Joshua trees in the Antelope Valley desert Monday afternoon.
I-5, I-15 and the Antelope Valley Freeway are shut down, stranding thousands of motorists. Some try to catch Metrolink trains and others bed down in motels. The storm is blamed for at least one death.

By Alexandra Zavis and Jennifer Oldham
Los Angeles Times

An unusually strong arctic blast dumped snow over a large swath of Southern California mountains and high deserts Wednesday, shutting down some of the state's busiest freeways, stranding thousands of motorists and cutting off several communities.

The storm's combination of frigid air, powerful winds and heavy precipitation dropped the snow level to an unusually low 2,000 feet, with at least 20 inches of snow in Wrightwood, 5 inches in the hills above Malibu and 6 inches or more in Palmdale, where all major routes from Los Angeles were blocked.

Forecasters expect the cold temperatures to continue today as the storm moves out, and another storm is expected to hit the region Sunday night.

Snow and ice shut down three of the region's key north-south routes -- Interstate 5, Interstate 15 and the 14 Freeway -- along with numerous mountain roads and desert highways.

The closures caused traffic nightmares for drivers trying to get in or out of Southern California. The severity of the storm caught many by surprise, leaving them stranded on the side of freeways, at rest stops and trying to stay warm inside their cars along snow-packed roads around Big Bear.

It had already started to rain when Garcia Ignacio of Lancaster drove off early Wednesday with his wife, Hortencia, to a kitchen remodeling job in Woodland Hills. But he never expected the drops to turn into sheets of snow. The couple spent the rest of the day trying to find a way home as authorities shut down one freeway after another. They finally gave up and checked into a La Quinta Inn in Santa Clarita.

"My 20-year-old and my 16-year-old are stuck home in Lancaster, and my wife and I are stuck here in a hotel," said Ignacio, who owns Aaron's Construction in Lancaster. "But I'm not worried about them, though. I called them already, and they were playing in the snow."

The storms brought steady rain to many parts of the Los Angeles Basin, and major street flooding was reported in Palm Springs. The opening night of the 100th annual Newport Beach Christmas Boat Parade was called off by organizers because of choppy seas caused by the storm.

Forecasters said the Las Vegas Strip could receive 3 inches of snow overnight. The weather caused some flight delays at the city's McCarren International Airport, which doesn't have snowplows.

The storm was blamed for at least one death, which occurred when a helicopter installing power lines crashed near Bouquet Canyon in Santa Clarita, killing a mechanic on the ground. The cause of the crash is under investigation, but it's believed a strong gust of wind hit the aircraft as it hovered just after liftoff, said Ian Gregor of the Federal Aviation Administration. The craft's tail broke off and a rotor blade struck the man on the ground, he said. The pilot suffered minor injuries but refused medical treatment, said Inspector Ron Haralson of the Los Angeles County Fire Department.

By about 1:30 p.m., traffic had ground to a halt along the northbound 14 at Sand Canyon Road as frustrated motorists tried to exit the shuttered freeway or pull onto the shoulder. Palm trees were doubled over in the lashing winds, and drivers wrestled to keep their vehicles in lanes.

A cluster of nearby restaurants and gas stations was jammed with people trying to figure out whether to wait out the storm or abandon their vehicles in the parking lot and take a train home. Some fretted about pets left outside in the cold. Others said they could not understand why the roads were closed, when they had stayed open in worse storms in the past.

Littlerock resident Deborah Deckert left her job at Warner Bros. in Burbank at 9:30 a.m. hoping to beat the freeway closures. Sitting at a Bergie's steakhouse, where high desert residents stood watching weather reports on big-screen TVs, she said it took her three hours to travel several miles on the 14 between the Sand Canyon and Soledad Canyon Road exits. She tried back roads as well but was forced to turn around. By the time she got off the 14 and pulled up in front of the restaurant, she was almost out of gas.

"I drive a clutch," she said. "I kept thinking to myself, as I was stuck in my car, 'At least this is good for my calves.' "

Stranded commuters jammed train stations, trying to get home. Metrolink agreed to honor bus passes from the Antelope Valley and Santa Clarita through this morning. But trains were running up to an hour late because of snow on the lines and poor visibility that made signals hard to see from the Via Princessa station in Santa Clarita to Lancaster, said Metrolink spokesman Francisco Oaxaca.

Motorists searched in vain for a parking spot at the Via Princessa station as the northbound 4:30 p.m. train approached. Lines at the ticket machines were at least 50 deep, and dozens more waited in rows alongside the tracks.

"Santa and all the nurses had to leave the Christmas party early," joked Debbie Ramirez, a nurse at Facey Medical Center in Santa Clarita, as she stood next to a passenger in a Santa suit. She rarely takes the train and had to ask other passengers which direction it came from.

Some commuters told of waiting in the freezing rain for 2 1/2 hours to buy a train ticket and then enduring another hour wait on the platform because the train was late.

Others took the weather in stride. A steady fall of big, wet flakes in the Antelope Valley community of Quartz Hill meant one thing to Kevin Vogel: snow day. He called a buddy and they made plans to go four-by-fouring in the fresh-fallen snow.

"It will be like a little sleigh ride out there," Vogel said.

His only concern was for his 8- and 9-year-old children, staying with grandparents in Las Vegas, who could get stranded as they try to make their way home today. "I wish they were here," he said. "I want to make a snowman, and for once they are not here."

Some businesses saw opportunity in the lack of bus service caused by the snow. Keith Bastedo, owner of Palmdale's High Desert Taxi Transportation, said business was up 100%, largely from commuters stranded at bus and train stations. Workers at two Palmdale tow-truck companies said they were too busy even to talk on the phone.

The Hampton Inn and Suites in Palmdale was sold out by 2 p.m. "This is usually our slow week, because of the holidays next week," said assistant manager Melissa Magallenos, one of two hotel administrators on duty when the deluge of customers began about noon.

The rain caused accidents and slow traffic on freeways around Southern California. In Palm Springs, Whitewater Wash overflowed, sending the runoff into the streets. San Diego firefighters and lifeguards evacuated 21 people along the overflowing Tijuana River. About 50 horses were also evacuated, but three others drowned and one was euthanized after tripping on barbed wire.

Steven Van Horn, a meteorologist with the National Weather Service in Oxnard, said the combination of moisture swept in off the coast and cold temperatures made this storm unusually snowy.

"Moisture has been pumping into the Antelope Valley all day and the temperatures have been cold enough, so we are getting a lot of snow," he said. "This is a fairly unusual storm. We don't usually get a cold storm like this until January. But this is our cold, rainy season so every once in a while you can get a storm like this."

The snowfall is expected to ease overnight, but frigid temperatures are predicted into today.

Another storm could strike as soon as Sunday night or Monday morning, Van Horn said. But it is not expected to bring as much cold or snow.

Part of Salton Sea's desolate shore made into a lush oasis

CALIFORNIA DESERT

One woman created a wetlands Eden with more than 135 bird species. Officials hope it's a microcosm of what will happen when state's restoration plan gets off the drawing board.

Birds take flight at a lush complex of seven ponds and artificial islands created at the Salton Sea on the Torres Martinez Indian Reservation. (Don Bartlettei / Los Angeles Times)

By David Kelly
Los Angeles Times

THERMAL, CALIFORNIA -- A few careless words, the snap of a branch and a scene of bucolic splendor became utter chaos. Clouds of great blue herons exploded from trees and swaying cattails. Egrets erupted from watery redoubts. Ducks quacked furiously overhead.

Debi Livesay observed the frenzy from a windy bank.

"Wait a moment; they'll settle down," she said. "It's hard to sneak up on them."

Finally, the birds swung around in a tight circle and made splash landings in this patchwork of wetlands stretching out to the Salton Sea.

Livesay, 59, seemed pleased by the performance, as if she'd choreographed the whole thing.

And in a way she had -- or at least helped set the stage. For decades this 85-acre stretch of the Torres Martinez Indian Reservation lay beneath the Salton Sea. As the lake receded, it left behind a salt-encrusted wasteland worthy of Death Valley. Dead trees jutted like bleached skeletons from petrified mud. Even hardy creosote struggled to survive.

Now, thanks to Livesay's seven-year effort to bring back water, it's a lush Eden of wetlands, plants, fish and more than 135 species of birds.

And state officials -- who have their own $8.9-billion, 75-year plan to rescue the dying sea and restore bird habitats -- are eagerly watching what happens.

The Salton Sea, California's biggest lake, is saltier than the ocean and getting saltier all the time. Water agreements reached in 2003 mean Imperial Valley farmers will stop sending their runoff into the sea, causing it to shrink further and grow ever more saline. Scientists predict that, without drastic action, by 2015 the last of the sport fish will have died off. The 400 species of birds that nest there, including endangered species such as the Reservation California least tern and Yuma clapper rail, will leave soon after.

But while the state's plan is still on the drawing board, Livesay's is up and running.

"This is the first microcosm of what all of the rest of the plans call for around the sea," said Dan Parks, coordinator for the Salton Sea Authority. "Scientists have an idea of what they need, but there is a lot of stuff they can't get out of a textbook so you need to get in there and experiment."

Livesay is no scientist. She's a former journalist with a gift for big ideas, a talent for securing grants and total self confidence.

As the Salton Sea dwindles, pesticide-laced sediments have blown over the reservation, exposing thousands of tribal members and other nearby residents to toxic chemicals. In 2001, Livesay, the tribe's head of water resources, was charged with finding a solution.

"We can't afford to have the Salton Sea dry out or people couldn't live here anymore," she said. "It would be 200 times bigger than Owens Lake. All you need is an inch of water to keep the dust settled. So I said, 'Let's make a wetland.' "

Working mostly on her own out of a converted trailer, Livesay won $2.3 million from state and federal agencies and began excavating seven ponds ranging from a few inches to 6 feet deep, and up to 20 acres wide.

Contractors built artificial islands and barriers between pools. Using a complex system of pipes and valves, they diverted water from the Whitewater River, filling and emptying the ponds each day for two years to leach out salt.

Then, in 2005, the valves opened wide and water gushed into the ponds for good. Livesay released young tilapia, mosquito fish and mollies to control insects. She planted native palms.

Nature did the rest.

Willows and cottonwoods began to spring up. Herons nested on the islands. A bald eagle took up residence alongside numerous ospreys. Biologists say they wouldn't be surprised to find a California condor soon. They spotted one in nearby Anza-Borrego Desert State Park last year.

Livesay expects to open her creation to the public in November under the name "California's Everglades." And she hopes to create 10,000 more acres of wetlands across vast swaths of desiccated lake bed.

Tribal Chairman Ray Torres recently described the restored wetlands as a "magnificent sight." The tribe is building a cultural center and an amphitheater near the project's entrance on South Lincoln Avenue.

"The state's Salton Sea restoration plan is very ambitious, but there is degradation going on right now," said Monica Swartz, a biologist with the Coachella Valley Water District who advises Livesay. "The Torres Martinez are the only group taking responsibility for it. Everyone else is talking about it, but they are the only ones doing anything about it."

She called Livesay a "force of nature," adding, "Debi is a remarkable person who doesn't understand what impossible is. She saw what the tribe needed and she made it happen."

Livesay, who is not Native American, worked at the Whittier Daily News and the North County Times before quitting journalism because she said it was too difficult to be married, be a reporter and raise four children at the same time.

She picked up part-time jobs, working as a bartender, running construction crews and building houses.

"I can do anything I want to," she said matter-of-factly. "I can teach myself anything."

As her children got older Livesay began looking for a full-time career, something that satisfied her interest in science and the environment.

She took courses on water management, worked with wildlife biologists and landed a job with the Torres Martinez tribe in Thermal.

"This is where I am supposed to be," she said.

She often spends seven days a week at the remote wetlands site, and sometimes gets in dangerous standoffs with hunters.

Friendly but tough, Livesay fiercely guards the place.

She calls it "my baby" or "this puppy" and describes it as an egg she has "hatched."

At times she lapses into jargon about particulate matter and water chemistry that can baffle the uninitiated. Yet her overall message never changes.

"This is the future of the Salton Sea," she said, looking over the shimmering water. "Right here." Still, potential problems abound.

For one thing, selenium, endemic in Salton Sea sediment, could find its way into the ponds. The mineral is thought to cause genetic mutations in birds.

If the wetlands water gets too salty the fish could die off. And hunters are a constant threat, illegally shooting anything that flies, including, on one occasion, a black swan.

Hunting is forbidden on the reservation and Livesay routinely confronts violators. She recently found six hunting platforms on the edge of the wetlands. Thousands of pelicans, ibises, herons, ducks and grebes floated within easy range of the platforms, which were camouflaged in palm fronds.

"One day I came out here and the whole berm was covered in dead coots. The hunters just wanted to kill them and then left them there," Livesay said, clearly angry. "These guys show up in their cammies, with their dogs and trucks, and think they can't be arrested on tribal land -- but now they are learning otherwise. I got three arrested."

Richard Gamez, who works at the site, has found 15 birds at a time killed by hunters. The lock on the gate has been broken four times.

"When I stop them, they tell me they have hunted here for years," he said. "There are signs up everywhere that say `No Hunting.' They tell me the game warden said they could hunt here."

Harry Morse, a spokesman for the state Department of Fish and Game, said enforcing hunting regulations on tribal land is a "jurisdictional nightmare."

"We can't go on the land and make an arrest because we have no authority," he said. "But when they step off the reservation, we can do something."

So far, Livesay said, they haven't done much. She depends on local sheriff's deputies to go after violators.

"I want to open this place up to ecotourism, and you can't do that with firearms going off everywhere," she said.

The creation of the wetlands is significant for the Torres Martinez, a poor tribe whose 25,000-acre reservation includes 10,000 under the Salton Sea.

The reservation is one of the most polluted in the West, largely because of illegal dumping. But recent efforts by the tribe and the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency have made a difference.

Twenty of the 27 illegal dumps have been cleaned up, and fires at dump sites have been reduced 75% in the last year, said Clancy Tenley, head of tribal programs for the EPA.

"We have developed a strong partnership with the tribe on environmental issues," he said. "Now they have the first wetlands reclamation program on the Salton Sea."

The project stuns some tribal members.

"The first day I worked out here I was amazed," said Joe Tortes, who helps regulate pond levels. "It really took me by surprise. I had no idea this place was here."

Last week, Livesay boarded her "mule," an all-terrain vehicle, and motored down a dirt path along the water. It was cold and blustery. Snow squalls enveloped the San Jacinto Mountains behind her. As she entered an overgrown glade by the gurgling Whitewater River, dozens of black ibises shot up from the tall grass. Ospreys wheeled overhead.

She cut the engine.

"Wait until you go around the corner," she said. "You have never seen anything like it."

A few feet away, birds were thick as mosquitoes. They floated in dark, choppy water and buzzed about like feathery missiles.

"You have birds here that shouldn't be here, birds from Canada all the way down to Central America," she said. "People come from all over the world to see this sight. There is no other place like it. And that's why we have to preserve it."