HomeMy office sits at the base of Highway 9 in Saratoga. That’s not a coincidence. These mountains, and these roads, are the reason I do what I do.
Growing up at the bottom of the hill
Highway 9 is one of a handful of climbs that lead up the Santa Cruz Mountains to the ridge, where it meets Skyline Boulevard. I grew up right here, at the base of it. And for as long as I can remember, these roads have had a rhythm to them.
On weekends, the cyclists come. So do the car clubs, the motorcycle groups, the sports-car drivers. They gather for coffee at the bottom of the hill, and then they head up — many of them treating the climb to the ridge like a racetrack, hitting speeds that have no business being anywhere near a road shared with people on bikes.
I asked my dad recently how often he hears the ambulance head up the hill. His answer: every single day.
Every single day. And you rarely see enforcement up there until after something has already happened.
The near-misses no one counts
For every cyclist who actually gets hit on these roads, there are probably a hundred near-misses — the pass that came too close, the car that swung wide around a blind corner, the moment a whole group had to scatter to the shoulder. Anyone who rides up here regularly knows the feeling. You ride the same stretch, the same thing nearly happens, and nothing ever changes.
When I was just in my teens, watching all of this, I remember thinking: that’s messed up. Somebody’s got to do something about that.
It ended up being me.
Everyone gets to use the road — safely
I want to be clear about something. I don’t begrudge anyone their time on these roads. The cyclists, the drivers, the motorcyclists — everyone gets to enjoy them, and everyone should. That’s not the problem.
The problem is what happens when speed, blind corners, and thin oversight collide with the most vulnerable person out there. These roads are narrow and largely without guardrails. Trees and ravines sit right at the pavement’s edge. Many of the curves give you no view of what’s coming. On a bike, there’s no margin for someone else’s bad decision — and when a driver crosses the center line at speed, the cyclist is the one who pays for it.
It happens here again and again, at the same predictable places, year after year. And it’s been happening for decades.
Turning that into the work I do
That’s why I became a personal injury attorney. Not for the abstract idea of it, but because I grew up watching real people get hurt on roads I love, in a place where too little gets done to prevent it.
When a cyclist is doing everything right and is still struck because a driver was speeding, drifted across the line, or failed to yield, the fault is the driver’s — not the rider’s. California law protects a cyclist’s right to the road, and holds negligent drivers responsible for the harm they cause. Making sure injured riders actually get that protection is a big part of what I do.
If you’ve been hurt while cycling in these mountains or anywhere in the Bay Area, I’d be glad to talk. I know these roads personally, I know what riders are up against, and I know how insurance companies treat these cases. Reach out and we’ll figure out where you stand.