Thistle Landslide of 1983

I was ten years old in 1983. Two events that spring still stand out. First, I recall seeing video on the news of the “State Street River” in Salt Lake. This was an artificial river created by sand bags and other barricades that diverted overflowing snow melt coming from the Wasatch Mountains. Fall of 1982 brought heavy rains that saturated the ground, then winter saw a record amount of snow. When it warmed up in April and May, all that melting snow wreaked havoc and needed a place to go. 

The other event was related to the record precipitation. It was the Thistle landslide. I also remember watching that on the news, but I also had a more personal connection. My father, who at the time worked for the Utah Highway Patrol, was assigned to block traffic. 

All the Highway Patrol from that side of the state took turns as security guards at Sheep Creek, about eight miles east of Thistle. They worked 10-hour shifts for five straight days and spent nights at a hotel in Helper. Their purpose was to let nobody through. When it was slow Dad spent his time reading books and reloading bullets. He never did see the landslide. 

My father in his younger days.

At the time the Thistle disaster was the most costly landslide the nation had ever seen, costing over 200 million dollars. It marked the first ever Presidential disaster declaration in Utah. 

Thistle was a small town located 67 miles south of Salt Lake City. The first white settlers were Mormons, who arrived in 1848.  Later, when a railroad line came through connecting Salt Lake with Denver, more people moved in. 

At one time Thistle boasted a population of 300 people. During the era of steam locomotives, the servicing of trains was the town's primary industry. But with the invention of the diesel locomotive, railroads became more efficient and could travel greater distances between stops. As a result, work in the town of Thistle dwindled and all that remained were about a dozen families. 

Looking toward Soldier Creek and Thistle from the east.   Soldier Creek and Thistle Creek combine in Thistle to create the Spanish Fork River.

All was peaceful and quiet in Thistle until fifty years later when one event would change the place forever. 

During April of 1983, the land north of town began to noticeably move. Train tracks became disfigured and the highway started to buckle. Soon they had to close the highway and divert the railroad through Wyoming. 

The slide then buried the Spanish Fork River, which ran through the center of Thistle. Workers labored desperately to dig out the river so water could continue to flow, but soon it became a losing cause. Suddenly the water of the river began to dam up and create a reservoir atop the town of Thistle. The town was evacuated, and as you can imagine, a lot of homes and livelihoods became buried beneath the new lake. 

Finally, almost exactly forty years after the landslide, I made it to Thistle myself. Although I had passed by a few times on the highway in years past, this was my first time stopping and examining things for myself. Before going there, the details were nothing but a blur in my mind. 

I felt this spring was a fitting time to visit. Not only was it the forty-year anniversary of the landslide, but during the previous winter we had near record snowfall that resembled that of 1983 (although 1983 still outdid us!). 

It was strange to drive through “town” because it was as if some of the debris from the landslide had never been cleaned up. A berm of dried mud remained on the other side of the guardrail. Debris from dead trees littered the riverside. Pools of muddy water still gathered at the roadside. I had no idea why these pools still collected water. They were not near the river. One pool still had a wooden house three-quarters submerged. 

I saw two other ruined buildings. Both had graffiti, but neither had any apparent effort to clean them up. One of these ruins, I believe, were the remnants of the old schoolhouse, of which I had seen pictures. Fields were still used by ranchers as I witnessed loose horses roaming nearby. 

Remnants of the old schoolhouse.

Unknown building in ruins in Thistle, Utah.

Pool of water near the highway.

I drove back up to Highway 6 and north through a big cut in the hill. From what I understand, before the flood the highway was located at the bottom of the canyon near the river. After the flood they rebuilt it higher and made a big cut in the hill to facilitate it. 

I continued further and flipped around to a stop on the west side of the highway. From here I could look down into the canyon. There was still a definite demarcation of the slide. The shape and color of the slide area was different than the rest of the mountain. With imagination I could see it slowly oozing down the hill. Nowadays grass and a few trees grow atop the slide area. The surface of it was indeed massive and I could understand how nothing in its way could survive. 

View of Thistle Landslide from Highway 6 in 2023.

But I did have one nagging question: How is it that the river is still flowing? I saw the Spanish Fork River flowing freely on both the north and south sides of the slide, but the bulk of the landslide still completely blocked the canyon. 

My investigation brought me back to the main part of Thistle and onto a road near the shooting range, which at the time was being used by the local Sheriff's Office. I drove to the end of the road and parked on a section of dirt near the river. 

I followed the edge of the river and saw that it entered a tunnel, right into the rock face of the mountain. It appeared that they blasted a new diversion tunnel through the mountain that completely bypassed the landslide. Very interesting. It made sense if one considers the fact that most landslides continue to move, and if they were to drill a hole through the landslide part, any new movement would destroy their tunnel and once again the river would be damned. 

Spanish Fork River is diverted through a tunnel in the mountain.

I snapped a few pictures, but when I turned around a deputy sheriff had come to chat with me. Not surprisingly, I wasn't supposed to be there. He was nice and answered a few of my questions. 

I later studied the rise and fall of Thistle Lake, as it was called. Within fifty days of the blockage from the landslide, the level of the lake rose to 180 feet. The Spanish Fork River swelled with heavy spring runoff and it didn't take long before the small town became submerged. Residents had only a short time to grab whatever belongings they had and flee. Their homes would be destroyed. 

At some point during this time workers did what they could to drain the lake. Long pipes connected to a barge used centrifugal pumps that pushed 22,500 gallons a minute over the dam and into the river, but this was no match for the amount of water still coming in. 

During the first of June the level of the lake began to go down due to water now flowing out a high-level emergency spillway tunnel. Over the next 120 days the lake level dropped a mere twenty feet, but at least it wasn't rising anymore. Beginning October 1, the water began to drain through a low-level outlet tunnel. From that point the lake level dropped dramatically and in just 130 days the entire lake was drained. I assume this “low-level outlet tunnel” is the same one still used today. 

View from the north.  You can see part of the landslide, train tunnels, Spanish Fork River and high-level emergency spillway tunnel.

It must have been a terrifying time for many in the area. Imagine having your home and all your belongings suddenly buried and ruined beneath a lake. Imagine if you lived downstream and had to worry for an entire year about the possibility of the dam bursting, and in a moment having your home swept away. Imagine if you lived upstream in Carbon County and now your main route to the Wasatch Front was blocked. 

I spent more time driving around the former town of Thistle. It didn't take long. After all, it is a ghost town. Here and there I saw debris and an occasional pile of rubble. Most of the debris from the flood had been cleaned up years ago. 

Abandoned rubble.

The railroad had also been rerouted. The new design included a tunnel through Billie Mountain near the same location where the highway was rerouted. The railroad was vital as it was a major means of shipping coal from the mines in nearby Carbon County. 

The railroad tracks were my last stop. I walked along them for a moment, then got in my car and waited for a train to come. I didn't have to wait long. A diesel locomotive carrying a bevy of cars whizzed past like a fleet of racehorses. I watched and marveled, but took note that Thistle was no longer a stop on the railroad. But, of course, that ended many years before the flood. ♠ 

Railroad track east of Thistle. In the background you can see the cut in the mountain for the highway.

A diesel locomotive whizzes past carrying a bevy of cars.