Archive for the ‘Landslides’ Category

Landslide update from the Sports Center fire road

20 August 2018

Ten years ago, I took my first walk on the fire road above the North Oakland Regional Sports Center (Caldecott Field), where I saw fit to document an incipient landslide there.

In June, standing on Skyline Boulevard, I noticed that the site was shrouded in black plastic, a surefire sign of a landslide. Passing by again last week, I noticed a change and made the time to visit. The change was that the center of the previous landslide had given way in a new landslide.

This new slide looks ugly, and of course the fire road will need fixing, but the slide material didn’t seem to go far downhill.

The picture seemed pretty simple to me, standing there, but then I came home and looked at the area, in Google Maps 3D, featuring imagery as of a couple years ago. The view is to the south.

Two things to see here. First, the fire road was resurfaced at the place where I shot the 2008 photo (just below the water tank). So the slide shrouded in plastic was likely the second one since 2008. Second, the hillside below the slide is stripped of trees — that is, it’s a landslide chute. Maybe the slide I shot in 2008 did that. Air photos from 1968 and 1939 show nothing distinctive at that location.

If only I’d been paying attention here over the last 10 years! But Oakland’s a big town with a lot to keep track of.

Landslides tend to be persistent: once one starts, others follow in the same place. This is especially true in the rock exposed here, which is mudstone of the Sobrante Formation. Here’s an exposure of it in a roadcut on Thorndale Drive. This stuff falls down real easy. Elsewhere in the hills I’ve called it “punk shale.”

A closeup of another roadcut shows wavy lines caused by shear within the rock.

The Sobrante was a big headache to the people excavating the Caldecott Tunnel bores. It caved in on the men digging the first bores, and the fourth bore required heroic engineering to keep it all shored up so the concrete could be poured. Likewise, houses built on this rock need strong foundations and designs that are sensitive to the site.

An Elverton update

23 July 2018

After a visit five years ago, I had high praise for Elverton Drive: “From end to end, it offers the best exposures anywhere of the Claremont chert.”

This stuff, as seen a few weeks ago during a return visit.

Those of you who’ve followed along know the amazing striped chert of the Claremont Shale, which crops out in a belt from Claremont Canyon along a couple miles of Skyline Ridge to Huckleberry Botanical Preserve and beyond in the hinterland. The fat pale stripes are layers of microcrystalline silica — chert — and the thin dark ones are layers of claystone — shale.

During this visit I walked from the south end of Elverton past the newest set of houses, near Huckleberry, and had a good stop in the old borrow pit. The wall has crumbled a bit since five years ago, opening this fine exposure.

I was hoping to find pieces of dolomite rock, which are present as an uncommon third ingredient, so I gave the rubble a good look. None of that there, but I was interested to see some extra-thick pieces of the chert and shale.

The chert, in fact, was very light. It was barely changed from its original state as diatom ooze on the seafloor, almost the balsa-wood lightness of the Pinole diatomite. I did not expect that.

At the other end of the pit is the same big-ol’ boulder that was lying there in 2013. This is not a decorative rock placed there to look good; no, it fell here from the beetling cliff above and stopped rolling just short of the roadway. I recalled writing in 2013, “if you feel an earthquake while you’re there, step the hell back.”

Every time I visit the high hills, the pleasure of geologizing gives way, sooner or later, to a sense of dread at the state of the roadcuts. The eucalyptus roots in this scene were exposed as the hillside crumbled away, and behind them is a concrete cast meant to slow down a landslide.

But thinking ahead I looked forward to admiring this again after five years away. Google Street View still shows it.

Instead, it’s being shored up and fitted with a shotcrete shroud.

And another splendid exposure farther along is being smothered too, with no finesse.

In fact, not long afterward I started to despair of Elverton Drive. Is this the point of occupying such a spectacular setting? To cover it with property? To look outward and not downward?

The Claremont chert isn’t as solid as it might seem. Given the tendency of these young rocks to crumble, there’s no guarantee a new house in the high hills will survive its first mortgage. Or that the road will last that long.

Look out. Don’t look down. Elverton Drive is falling apart while it’s still filling up.

I already miss the place.

The McKillop landslide: Ten years after

17 July 2017

In December 2006, I read a series of news stories about a landslide in Fruitvale, on McKillop Road, that took out a house and threatened two more, so I checked it out and was so impressed I wrote it up for About.com. This house was the victim.

And this was its front yard. When I revisited, last week, the three concrete steps were still there and the little pine tree next to them was over 20 feet tall.

This slump was the extension of an adjoining land failure earlier that year. In 2006 I was able to make my way across the top of that older slump and take this shot from the other side.

Nowadays the scene is well secured and overgrown with brush, but nevertheless the land is basically ruined. The city is storing some stuff there, and there are some beehives.

You can’t really fix landslide scars. On the human scale, they’re permanent. And landslides tend to feed on each other — when a portion of a slope fails, the adjoining slopes often follow. That’s the case on McKillop Road. William D. Wood Park is actually the scar of much larger landslides that have occurred, according to one report, since 1909.

The Oakland Tribune reported in 1936 after one such slide, “The property upon which the houses were built was originally filled-in ground from excavations made at the [Central Reservoir] site 15 years ago, neighbors said.” Throughout the 1940s and into the 1950s, it was routinely called the city’s worst landslide. Studies were made along with attempts to stabilize the slope, to little avail. Homeowners were putting their houses on jacks.

Everyone gave up fighting nature in the 1970s, and they made the land a park. And so far so good — here it was in 2006:

And how it looks today.

Nature may not have given up fighting us, though.

Shepherd Canyon landslides

10 April 2017

Last week I went to visit a landslide that had been in the news. As it happened, I saw three.

Shepherd Canyon always gets a lot of landslides, like its neighboring canyons in the high hills. The main reason is that Shephard Creek has a lot of cutting power, thanks to its relatively large watershed and the low base level provided by Dimond Canyon. That creates steep slopes and V-shaped valley profiles. A secondary reason is the relatively soft mudstone underlying those slopes.

My destination was the landslide that came down on the south side of Banning Drive. But along the way my path was blocked by two more mass movements. They’re marked by white asterisks on the geologic map below.

The Montclair Railroad Trail, my usual route, offers walkers good access to the canyon. On the inner side of the sharp curve and cut leading into the canyon, this slope failure exposed the rears of two houses. I classify it as a debris fall.

The majority of the material is broken rock, hence the term debris, and it tumbled in a heap rather than traveling any distance, hence the term fall. Only a little mud was present.

The area is mapped as the Oakland Conglomerate (Ko), although the debris appeared to consist mostly of fine sandstone and a little shale, like this. The rainwashed stone is well displayed.

Picking my way past that was no problem. Farther up the trail, though, was a complete blockage.

Like the lower slope failure, this one involved debris, but unlike it the material slid, so I classify it as a debris slide. Several large trees that came down with the rock didn’t appear to be to blame. However, this time of year is the most dangerous for trees because the ground is sopping wet and the limbs are heavy with young leaves, making them prone to catch the wind. Maybe they triggered the slide. Maybe the other way around.

Fortunately no houses appeared to be threatened above the headscarp, but now the slope is highly vulnerable.

A sewer line runs beneath the trail, so the city may have to clear the slide once the ground is no longer saturated. Meanwhile this is too dangerous to approach. It could fall with no warning.

The debris is made of fine-grained sandstone of the Redwood Canyon Formation (Kr).

Finally I got up to Banning Drive. It’s situated in one of the major side valleys in Shepherd Canyon, and the walls are exceptionally steep.

I classify this slope failure as a debris flow, what the news media often calls a mudslide. It traveled downhill a good hundred meters in a thick semifluid mass. The mud content was greater than the other two slides, and muck spilled into and around several homes on Banning. There’s plenty of footage of the scene online, so I don’t need to show you that. It was hard to watch the residents clearing out their red-tagged homes while the news vans gathered round.

I didn’t need to be there once I’d seen it. Presently I went uphill to Aitken Drive, where the slide originated.

Note a couple of things. Right beyond the gap in the road, a telephone pole was snapped off and the wires were hanging low. (The power was off.) The extra load caused the pole at the left edge of the photo to lean inward. The scar in the road reveals a wall of sandbags (I assume they were filled with concrete) that must have been put there after a previous slide.

Landslides occur where previous slides did. And sure enough, looking uphill I could see the young scar of a small rockslide, nestled in turn within a concavity in the hillside that looked like the scar of a much older slide.

There is another street higher up, Chelton Drive, but no houses up there appeared to be endangered. Meanwhile East Bay MUD had the road blocked while they were making sure the water lines underneath wouldn’t break and make more trouble.

Who’s responsible? Perhaps no one. The problem is above my pay grade, as I’m not a licensed geologist. But I can see the signs and warnings of landslides, and so can you if you pay attention to the landscape. The U.S. Geological Survey has resources, and so does the California Geological Survey.