To everyone in the Save Lakeridge movement: time to take a hard look at who’s backing whom in Washoe County politics.

Turns out T.J. Duncan—the developer at the center of your fight to protect Lakeridge Golf Course—is a supporter of none other than District Attorney Chris Hicks, who is kicking off his re-election campaign on September 9, 2025.

Duncan Golf Management is selling the idea of a shiny new “golf resort” at Lakeridge. On paper, it sounds like something out of a lifestyle magazine—pickleball and tennis courts, a swimming pool, dining, a spa, a non-gaming hotel, and meeting spaces. But here’s the kicker: they won’t give residents any numbers.

How many guests would a 100-room hotel bring in daily? How many cars? How much noise? What kind of water demand are we talking about for pools, courts, and lush resort landscaping? What developer, anywhere, floats this kind of sweeping project without running the numbers—or at least sharing them?

You almost have to admire the irony.

Why is Barrett Resources representing the anti-development group Save Lakeridge while simultaneously cashing checks from the City of Sparks to push a lands bill that’s entirely about promoting development?

Save Lakeridge — that plucky group of homeowners dead-set on stopping any change to their backyard golf course — just might have outsmarted themselves into oblivion, or proved they are a bit more elitist than they would like you to think. Word on the street is they shelled out somewhere between $20,000 and $40,000 to hire none other than Chris Barrett of Barrett Resources to help defeat a master plan change that would have brought Reno a hotel, spa, world-class restaurant, and yes — even pickleball courts.

It’s that time again, Reno.

Time to dust off your “Save Our Neighborhood” signs, round up the neighbors, and once again remind Reno City Hall that residents actually live here. Because—surprise!—another developer with deep pockets and shallow plans is back with a dream: to turn part of Lakeridge into a cash cow dressed up as “community improvement.”

On August 5, 2025 at 6 p.m., head over to Bartley Ranch and hear the latest from the folks at SaveLakeridge.com about Duncan Golf Management’s shiny new revised application. The pitch? Rezone 12.5 acres for a hotel, villas, restaurants, bars, outdoor event space, six pickleball courts, two tennis courts, a pool, and a spa. All that’s missing is the monorail.

Tonight's developer-sponsored meeting promises all the transparency political contributions can ensure.

Ladies and gentlemen, step right up to tonight's 5:30 PM spectacle at Lakeridge Golf Course, where the fine art of "developer-sponsored community engagement" takes center stage. Yes, it's another one of those mandatory dog-and-pony shows where deep-pocketed developers get to explain why their latest vision for your neighborhood is actually a gift to humanity.

Tonight's headliner? None other than the consulting maestros at Wood Rodgers, who we're pretty sure will be pitching the merits of allowing yet another Master Plan amendment. Because if there's one thing Reno needs more of, it's surely more amendments to plans that were supposedly well-thought-out the first time around.

Let’s call it what it is: a developer-funded PR push disguised as a community forum. And much like the City of Reno Ward 1 and Ward 3 forums we bet this won’t be recorded or documented either.

Wood Rodgers, the consulting firm paid by the owners of Lakeridge Golf Course, is hosting a “community meeting” to talk about proposed changes to the site—including a Master Plan amendment that could reshape the neighborhood. But here’s the real story: this same firm is a major donor to multiple Reno City Council campaigns.

In 2021, the residents of Lakeridge were blindsided. The Reno City Council approved a development that locals said would permanently alter the character of their quiet, golf-centered neighborhood. To add insult to injury, a former city councilmember even implied that only the “entitled” lived in Lakeridge—and that it was time for that to change.

It was a message that didn’t just sting—it stuck.