View from Norton Road, looking north across to Saratoga's foothills.
It's one of those rather pointless questions on the order of: "How long is a piece of string?" (Answer: Twice as long from one end to the middle.) This one, however, has a little more substance: "When does a hill become a mountain?" The dictionary isn't much help. A hill is described as being less than a mountain and a mountain is described as being more than a hill, which leaves it pretty much up to the eye of the beholder.
So, what do we have to the west of Saratoga? Are these mountains or hills? Strictly speaking, they're part of the Santa Cruz Mountains, but I--and I think a lot of people--always thought of them as hills. Even the most distantly visible ridge seems somehow to be in that category, although the people who live there probably like to think of themselves as mountaineers.
A question of more substance is, "What would Saratoga be without its hills (mountains)?" The short answer is, Saratoga probably wouldn't be, period. The town got its start because of lumbering; the valley floor was studded with live oaks, but the timber trees, redwood and Douglas fir, were back on the ranges between here and the coast.
In time, there no doubt would have been a settlement here anyway, as people moved into the Santa Clara Valley, but the hills definitely have established the character of the town. For one thing, at least two of its prime attractions probably owe their existence to the topography. It seems highly unlikely that James D. Phelan would have bothered to create Villa Montalvo on a prairie, and the same no doubt could be said of Mrs. Isabel Steine and Hakone Gardens. Hills or mountains, "conspicuous elevations of the earth's surface," to use dictionary language, have inspired some of civilization's greatest creative efforts. From the psalmist's beatific "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills" to the achingly poignant "Home to Our Mountains," sung by the dying Azucena in Verdi's "Il Trouvatore," the imprint is indelible. Valleys have done their share of inspiring too, but you can't have a valley without hills or mountains, and Saratoga has the best of both.
Just look around. If it had been possible to order topography from a cosmic menu, I submit that no more favorable combination could have been forthcoming. There are the lower foothills, stretching away to the north. There are the higher brush-and tree-covered hills, the "Sierra Azul" (Blue Range) of the Spaniards, looming protectively to the south and west. In the distance is the jagged contour of Summit Rock dominating the skyline on the farthest visible range.
If, while driving home, you somehow find yourself feeling out of sorts because of hard knocks from the software, lift up thine eyes unto the hills and recall that it just doesn't get any better than this.
This article appeared in the Saratoga News, July 24, 1996.
©1996 Metro Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved