“And I love being the one to tell those stories,” Scott said. “It’s a little like being a detective. I get to uncover forgotten pieces of history, hear stories about how it used to be, and make sure that places and the people behind them don’t get forgotten.”
“Plenty to tell about lost ski resorts in the Adirondacks,” Justin said. “People have written whole books on the subject. The last I heard, there were about sixty places that came and went.”
“That doesn’t really surprise me. There’s a big investment in buildings, lifts, and trails. That takes deep pockets, and it wouldn’t earn out fast.” Scott replied.
“I’ll take you to the biggest failed resort first. It’s still impressive from the air. Some of the others are harder to see.”
“Alpine Ridge?” Scott guessed.
“Yep,” Justin answered as the plane changed course. “It was supposed to become one of the biggest in the northeast and barely made it three seasons before it went under. If you look down, you can make out where the trails were. There’s still a T-bar lift left, although it’s long defunct.”
It didn’t take long before Scott could make out the outline of trails beneath them.
“From what I read, the promoters told everyone it would have thirty chairlifts, fifty trails, a lodge, village, and chalets.” Scott snapped photos as they spoke. “They never even got close.”
“It would have been quite a place if it had actually happened.” Justin sounded wistful. “That size of a resort would have been a big draw.”
“I got some great photos, thanks,” Scott said after they had circled.
“We’ll head for what’s left of the Grand Ulster Hotel next,” Justin told him.
Scott had read about the Ulster. “That was an old resort from the early 1900s that grew big and then fell apart.”
“Yeah. My grandparents went there back in the glory days,” Justin said. “It had ski trails and a chalet, too. Plus roller skating and ice skating, pools, and a golf course. It was set up for meetings, so there was a ballroom, conference center, and nightclub. The golf course got sold when the resort went bankrupt.”
“But the buildings were just left to rot,” Scott said. “What a waste.”
“All it takes is a couple of bad years with no snow, and customers find some new place to try. The tourist business is rough and unforgiving.”
Scott’s camera clicked as they flew over the Ulster’s high-rise tower and smaller buildings. Even from the air, he could see that they had fallen into disrepair.
“It really must have been something, back in the day.” Scott felt sad at the broken dreams the old resort represented.
They flew over several more long-defunct ski areas. Some had been folded into newer resorts, while others were now just trails, gradually being reclaimed by nature.
The woods sprawled beneath them as they soared over the trees. “I may not always be a fan of the weather, but I love this area,” Justin said. “The forest is something very special. There’s real magic here, if you believe in that sort of thing.”
“I do.” Scott wondered if Justin included shifters in that comment. “I’ve got to ask, have you heard anything about people seeing strange creatures lately?”
Justin frowned. “What kind of creatures?” He sounded wary.
“I didn’t get a lot of details,” Scott confessed. “But the sightings scared people.”
Justin was quiet long enough Scott wasn’t sure he would answer. “The forest is vast and ancient. There’s power in that combination. More than a few people in these parts have talents that are a little outside the mainstream. Psychics, witches, healers. They draw on that power like a wellspring, and if something pollutes the land, it affects everything.”
Justin’s acceptance of the supernatural surprised Scott, but it also raised a small flicker of hope in the back of his mind since he hadn’t sensed that Justin could shift.If he knows about such things, and we got involved, could he accept me being a shifter? Does he have some ability of his own, even if he can’t change form?
The more time Scott spent with Justin, the more he liked the man. He didn’t know if Justin’s flirty comments meant anything, but he couldn’t help hoping. His coyote might be sure, but he wasn’t convinced. Wouldn’t Justin have given some indication if he thought they were mates?
“I don’t have any problem believing that forest magic can be real.”
His acknowledgment seemed to relax Justin, who nodded. “That’s good. You’d fit right in here.”
“My cousins own The Lone Coyote,” Scott volunteered. “I’ve heard about the area from them over the years.”
“Oh, yeah? The Thompsons are good people,” Justin said. “That gives you another reason to visit when your articles are done.” His smile and wink were an implicit invitation, and Scott felt warm despite his caution.
“There’s a lot here to like,” Scott replied.
