Magic Forest: Part One
It's been hard for me to even wrap my head around our recent trip to Lake George, and more importantly our day spent exploring the Magic Forest. Before we even stepped foot into the Magic Forest, I declared it the best day of my life—eating at a vintage diner, with an entire year's anticipation at its peak. That might seem like an over-exaggerated sentiment for a day spent at an amusement park (a week after I turned 30), but I assure you it isn't. It will be hard to explain exactly why I love the Magic Forest so much, but if you know me and my aesthetic, it might make sense.
I found out about the Magic Forest a little over a year ago, when we temporarily became the Griswolds, and drove two hours out of our way just to find that it had closed for the season. I briefly considered walking through the large gaps in the fence, but ultimately my law-abiding nature won out and we left—but I vowed to return as soon as I could, praying that they would reopen the following season.
The Magic Forest opened in 1963 off of Route 9 in Lake George, which is located in the Adirondacks region of upstate New York. It's about a 4.5 hr drive from the city, and there are some lovely diners along the way if you're into that. The park has nineteen children's and four adult rides, plus a magic show, train ride, safari and the only remaining diving horse attraction in the country. The wonderful woman at the ticket counter actually tried to dissuade us from coming in by warning us that the park was most suitable for children 9 and under, but she had no way of knowing that I had dreamed of visiting for the entire past year.
Half of the reviews I read said the Magic Forest was outdated, rundown, creepy and felt unsafe. The other half declared it a classic time-warp—what it lacked in safety procedures and modern-day thrill-rides, it more than made up for in vintage charm. I obviously think the latter, although once I was inside it somehow managed to exceed all of my expectations.
The park feels as if it hasn't changed in almost any way since it opened in the 60s. It's definitely the furthest I've ever felt to actually going back in time. All of the employees seemed as if they had been there for many years, and none of the rides felt at all influenced by modern technology. The four rides that we could ride were a rickety ferris wheel that felt as if it was built from an Erector set, a rollercoaster that I was sure was going to disintegrate with us on it, a train ride through the forest operated by a conductor older than any of my grandparents, and a safari ride that was pulled by a very slow-moving tractor continuously emitting noxious diesel fumes.
We spent more than 4 hours walking around the small park, going inside every building and riding every ride we could. There are tons of fiberglass figures stashed in every corner of the park, including four muffler men, a storybook forest, two Santa Claus's, the world's tallest Uncle Sam and a Snow White attraction with a questionable pedigree. I took approximately 700 photos (I know), all of which I obviously won't share, but there are so many figures to see that I'll be devoting a few posts to all of our spiderweb-covered, glassy-eyed new friends that creeped us out along the way.
We saw Lightning the Diving Horse perform both of his shows—1pm and 4pm—and while I'm aware that the ethics are a bit shaky, I promise you that Lightning didn't appear to be suffering in any way. Diving horse attractions began in the 1880s but declined in popularity after World War II due to animal welfare concerns. Lightning is the son of Rex, the Magic Forest's original diving horse who started diving at the park in 1977. The emcee clearly states that "there is no rider, no prods, no electrical jolts, and no trap doors" and that Lightning dives completely of his own free will.
The ladies at the snack bar were putting together a puzzle in between filling orders; I put a quarter in a prize machine in the arcade, and received no prize and we tried to play ski ball but the machines were too jammed with quarters to accept ours; the gift shop closed before the park did, but they let us come back the next day to pick up some souvenirs; the magician doubles as the emcee for the diving horse, and makes balloon animals in between shows to give to the children—for $2 a piece. I love, love, loved the Magic Forest—a theme park that has remained untouched by time, become abandoned while it's still in business and is completely unaware of how cool and marketable it actually is—and I hope it continues to forget that it should have closed years ago and remains in Lake George forever.
