Cliffhangers Good Design Helps Create Dream Homes On Nightmare-Inspiring Building Sites

When Sandpoint architect Royal Shields decided to build on a steep patch of lakeshore property, he encountered two obstacles: loose rock … and skeptics.

The loose rock was easily overcome. Six hours into excavation, Shields hit solid earth and had a suitable platform for his family’s new home.

The skeptics proved more obstinate.

Loan officers wouldn’t touch the project.

One neighbor refused to believe Shields intended to build a house off the edge of Bottle Bay Road across the water from Sandpoint.

After enduring several interrogations, a mischievous young worker finally “admitted” to the woman that she was right - they weren’t building a house, but a bridge into town.

“Ohhhhh,” replied the woman, finally satisfied. “Because I couldn’t imagine anyone building a house here.”

Today, 22 years later, Shields’ unique, shake-clad home rests comfortably on cedar columns anchored to the hillside.

“It’s still inspiring to sit by the window each morning,” says Shields. “This time of year, we watch ice and ducks float by. In summer, there are sailboats. It’s a million-dollar view - Lake Pend Oreille in the foreground, the city in the middle ground and the Selkirk Mountains in the distance.”

Yet concern about awkward building sites remains strong, fueled by tragic incidents such as the Bainbridge Island mudslide earlier this year that buried a family inside their waterfront home.

Spokane real estate agent Bernie O’Brien says skepticism is partly to blame for his failure to sell a spectacular view lot at 2002 S. High Drive.

The $42,000 parcel is 151 feet deep, but the buildable portion of the property sits on uncompacted dirt at the crest of a steep slope.

“If it were a flat site with the same view,” O’Brien speculates, “it might be worth twice what we’re asking.”

Probably, but it would also be considerably cheaper to build on. That’s because extraordinary sites usually require extraordinary solutions.

In this case, geotechnical engineer John Finnegan recommended two elaborate retaining walls - one in front and another at the rear - to provide a level area on which to build a conventional home.

Other techniques would work, too, Finnegan says, if someone chose to construct a house designed specifically for the site.

For instance, architect Stephen Clark drilled 3-foot-deep holes into solid rock for a home perched on the basalt rim west of Spokane. He then attached 13 massive steel frames to pins protruding from grout poured in the holes.

“I often tell my clients, ‘The more challenging the lot, the more exciting the solution,”’ Clark says.

“But there are usually some extra costs involved, both for my services and those of geotechnical and structural engineers.”

Until about 10 years ago, relatively few local projects demanded special engineering. But as the building boom gained momentum and convenient lots became scarce, developers turned to increasingly marginal property.

“Nobody could figure out how to develop them before,” says Bill Hemmings of the Spokane County engineer’s office. “Now some guy thinks he can figure out how to do it.”

Some builders can. But reports of site-related problems are increasingly common.

Hemmings points to flooded basements on Browne Mountain and north of the Spokane Valley.

One hilltop house he knows of has a foundation rising from a hole blasted out of solid rock.

“When you do that, you form a sort of bathtub around the foundation,” he explains. “If any water drains toward your home, the only place it has to go is down in your basement.”

Engineer Finnegan cites questionable practices employed on Five Mile Prairie, where developers have created hazards above and below homes by cutting into hillsides to carve flat “benches” on which to build.

“I don’t see any Bainbridge Island or Los Angeles County catastrophes waiting to happen,” says Spokane city building official Bob Eugene. “But we do have some very expensive homes set back from a steep bank along Latah Creek, and the bank is eroding away.

“We’re concerned enough at this point that we’re starting to look for ways to prevent a Bainbridge Island from happening 10 or 15 years from now.”

Contractor Steve Thosath is no stranger to taming tough building sites, having erected custom homes on several improbable lots around Spokane.

But even he was surprised how quickly extra costs added up when he decided to build his own house on a rocky acre southeast of town.

“For a while, I was spending $3,000 a day between the hoe-rams and Cats and trucks, just getting the sewer and water on site and taking care of rocks so we could get the foundation in,” recalls Thosath. “Those are the kind of days you walk up, see how much money you’re spending and then leave, because you feel better if you don’t have to watch.”

The hard part, he says, is accepting that you have nothing to show for the extra $10,000 or more you spend on engineering and site-preparation costs.

“You’re just catching up with the people who chose to build on a nice, flat lot,” he says.

Anticipating problems and estimating costs are tasks best left for the experts, city and county officials agree.

“I’ve heard of a lot of problems lately where you’d never expect them,” Hemmings says. Why take a chance, he says, when you can hire a geotechnical engineer to do two or three hours of work and tell you if there’s anything to be concerned about?

Since the mid-‘80s, Eugene says, the city has required developers to seek geotechnical advice any time they propose recontouring a site with a slope greater than 10 percent.

Spokane County’s building and planning department adopted a critical-areas ordinance last August that requires new subdivision proposals to include geological or hydrological studies so that roads, sewer and water services won’t be endangered by unknown hazards. So far, enforcement has been inconsistent, Hemmings says, “but we’re moving forward in that direction.”

Most houses here and elsewhere use what architect Clark calls “standard fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants construction techniques,” with no engineering involved.

“They’re based on time-tested rules of thumb,” he says, “and most houses are overengineered,” meaning they could stand up to more stress and strain than they’re ever likely to face.

But stress increases when homes are built on hilly sites, loose soil or rocks, or in the path of surface or ground water.

“If you’re looking at these sites,” advises builder Thosath, “you need to think about what nature’s going to do to you.”

After all, there used to be Seven Wonders of the World. Only one - the Pyramid of Khufu in Egypt - still stands.

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: 3 Color Photos

MEMO: These 2 sidebars appeared with the story:

1. FINDING THE RIGHT SITE “You’re never 100 percent sure what you’re buying is safe,” says Spokane building official Bob Eugene. But he and others agree you can reduce the risk of encountering dangerous and expensive soil-related problems by looking for tell-tale signs, such as: Loose dirt or anything else on raw land that doesn’t look “natural.” Building sites that are difficult to walk around. Exposed rock. Soggy soil, an indication of potential ground-water problems. Seasonal or year-round surface water. Scattered cans, glass, partially buried refuse or other clues the property was used as a dump.

2. WRIGHT-DESIGNED HOME LEGENDARY Difficult sites make for exciting solutions, local architect Stephen Clark likes to tell clients. Probably the most famous example is “Fallingwater,” the Pennsylvania retreat that Frank Lloyd Wright designed for merchant Edgar Kaufmann. Wright envisioned a bold concrete-and-glass home cantilevering over a waterfall at Bear Run, Kaufmann’s rustic 1,600-acre estate. Kaufmann admired Wright but worried the renowned architect’s ego may have finally surpassed his judgment. So Kaufmann sent the blueprints to civil engineers in Pittsburgh. They, too, were skeptical, and Kaufmann forwarded their doubts to Wright’s headquarters. Predictably, Wright was furious and threatened to abandon the project. Instead, he returned the engineers’ observations in an oblong box wrapped in burlap and instructed that these prophecies of doom be buried in the cornerstone. Actually, they were sealed in a bedroom wall, where they remain safe today, 60 years later. Michael Guilfoil