County-Run State Parks Could Be Sacrificed on Budget Altar

The summer scene at Castaic Lake is the stuff of old California real estate propaganda -- a vision of bounty and sunshine.

Under a cloudless sky, serene waters from the Sierra snowpack lap at the skirts of gentle yellow hills. Powerboats cut lazy arcs on a vast field of blue while groups of junior lifeguards run sprints on the shores of a nearby lagoon.

Fisherman Allen Patotzka knows this idyll is being threatened by state and county budget problems. But after angling for Castaic’s generous stocks of striped bass, he refuses to believe anyone would actually close his favorite fishing hole.

“They’re always saying they’re out of money,” Patotzka said. “Which is a joke, when we give them so much in taxes.”

Still, many here are beginning to grasp the seriousness of the budget-related threats to the scenic Castaic Lake State Recreation Area -- a 12,000-acre park north of Santa Clarita that is visited by nearly 1 million people annually.

Los Angeles County has operated the state-owned park for more than three decades, but earlier this year county officials -- facing a $4-million hole in their parks budget -- decided to turn operations over to the state.

A similar decision was made for a smaller state-owned park, the Placerita Canyon Natural Area, just east of Santa Clarita.

State officials, facing a $38-billion budget shortfall, were surprised by the county’s decision and say they may not be able to keep the two parks running.

“I don’t think there’s any guarantee that there will be a satisfactory outcome,” said Roy Stearns, a state parks spokesman.

In recent weeks, county supervisors found funds to keep both parks operating through August. But so far, no one has a long-term solution.

Meanwhile, approximately 50 county employees at the parks are anxiously awaiting layoffs or reassignments. And residents in the town of Castaic are preparing for a closure and worrying about the economic ripple effects on the area that revolves around the big blue lake.

“This town is the lake,” said Amir Ibrahim, owner of Lakeside Boat Service. “If they close it down, Castaic is history; you can kiss it goodbye. And all of these people who moved here to be close to the lake -- they paid all of this money, for what?”

The county park system’s budget problems are the result of rising utility and workers’ compensation costs, and of the nearly $2-million annual operating losses at Castaic Lake, said county parks spokeswoman Sheila Ortega.

The department is making other systemwide cuts, yet many Castaic residents say the county is unfairly targeting their region.

“It looks like the parks department is trying to balance their budget on the backs of Castaic Lake and the Placerita center,” said Bob Lewis, president of the Castaic Area Town Council. “There may be a way you can generate more fees and spread the budget shortfall to all county facilities.”

Longtime Castaic residents cannot imagine living in this community of 19,000 without being able to swim, fish and frolic in the 2,235-acre lake and its smaller, more peaceful lagoon.

Both opened in 1972 as part of the State Water Project, which supplies Californians in the arid south with water from the more lush regions to the north.

Castaic Lake has always been used for recreation. In addition to boaters and other weekend warriors, the lake is home to a popular Fourth of July fireworks show, the yearly “Love Ride” charity motorcycle event and a Christmas boat parade.

The lake is also a prime attraction for homeowners who have made the Santa Clarita Valley one of the fastest-growing regions in the state. Ridges above the lagoon, barren just a few years ago, are now crowded with big houses.

And many of those homeowners have boats.

Roofing salesman Clay Friedman moved to Castaic eight years ago so he could ski on the lake as often as three times a week. Today the 38-year-old is worried, not only about losing ski time, but also about his home’s value. Even if it closes temporarily, Friedman said, the park, which is meticulously landscaped, could quickly go to seed before a solution is found.

The local Chamber of Commerce, meanwhile, estimates that a lake closure could result in some area businesses losing as much as 30% of their revenue. Some of the most strident opponents of the plan are the parents who send their children to the county-run, four-week Junior Lifeguard program, which at $195 is one of the best summer day-care bargains in the area. If the county pulls out of the park at the end of August, the 13-year-old program will almost definitely come to an end, director Pete Moore said.

“It’s unfortunate that the children have to suffer,” said parent Rene Schlottmann, who was waiting to pick up her 14-year-old son, Michael, in a shady patch of the park. “But a lot of people [will suffer]. I just can’t believe they can’t come up with the money to save something so beautiful.”

Similarly, supporters of the 350-acre Placerita park wonder what will become of their nature programs, which serve thousands of schoolchildren yearly.

State and county officials are meeting to resolve some of these problems, but so far they have few specifics to offer.

Assemblyman Keith Richman (R-Northridge) said he is exploring the possible use of special boating and waterway funds for Castaic Lake, or perhaps money from the Proposition 40 park bond issue approved by voters in 2000. “But with a $38-billion deficit, it’s very difficult,” Richman said.

Tony Bell, a spokesman for county Supervisor Mike Antonovich -- who represents northern Los Angeles County -- said talk of closing Castaic Lake was “a little premature.” But he also said its continued operation is contingent on finding money at the state level.

Castaic residents have floated their own suggestions, including privatizing park concessions, an idea that county officials briefly considered in 1997. Today, however, Richman and Ortega said no privatization plans are on the table.

Even if the recreation area closes, the lake will still be there. But Castaic residents are having a hard time swallowing the idea of just looking at their beautiful lake through a fence.

“It would be horrible,” Town Council member Tere Tucker said. “It’d be right there at your fingertips, but you couldn’t use it.”