RIP Magic Forest

I recently found out that the Magic Forest—my heaven on Earth, a fairytale/Christmas/safari park, mecca for fiberglass statues and home of the last diving horse attraction in the country—has closed.

I went to the Magic Forest, located in Lake George, New York, twice, but only once when it was actually open. On our visit in September of 2015, we spent the entire day walking the grounds, watching the shows and riding the five rides that were accessible to adults. The front desk employee actually tried to dissuade us from even entering the park when she saw that we didn’t have any children with us, but she relented once she realized that we actually knew what we were getting ourselves into.

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; 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 doubled as the emcee for the diving horse, and made balloon animals in between shows to give to the children—for $2 a piece.

In one of my many recap posts about our visit, I wrote that the Magic Forest was “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.” But, of course, nothing lasts forever and the Magic Forest was recently sold to someone who plans to “take the park in a different direction.”

American Giants, champions of Muffler Men and other large fiberglass statues, are facilitating the sale of the Magic Forest’s impressive collection—a lot of the more famous pieces have already sold, but you can check out the online auction here. I don’t have the money or the storage space to purchase anything—for just $12,000 my dream of becoming the old lady who lives in a shoe could become a reality—but I do have photos of pretty much everything since I was obsessive about documenting our visit (this is just 81 of the 521 photos I took).

I also, like countless people who have visited the park since it opened in 1963, have the memories. Nothing stays the same forever, and this fact of life is equal parts comforting and terrifying. But no matter how much we may try to, we can’t actually stop things from changing. People die, businesses close, relationships end. But still, we dive again and again—like Lightning the diving horse—hoping somehow this time it will be different. Secretly knowing all along that when we cease to change, we cease to live.

The morning before we went to the Magic Forest, we ate breakfast at a diner nearby. David took a photo of me, sipping my coffee and I remember saying “I don't think I can be any happier than I am right now.” I was being dramatic, of course, and if I’m really keeping score I can think of several other moments where I felt just as happy—if not happier—than I did right then. But would I have been so happy if I didn’t feel as if we were about to cheat time by finally exploring the Magic Forest, a park that by all logic should have closed decades ago?

I’m not exactly sure how or why most of my interests are endangered in some way—diners and outdated roadside attractions and abandoned buildings on the verge of being destroyed completely—but perhaps it is their precarious nature that draws me to them. The urgent need to experience, to document, to be able to say I was there, I am here.

“Relaxing with the present moment, relaxing with hopelessness, relaxing with death, not resisting the fact that things end, that things pass, that things have no lasting substance, that everything is changing all the time—that is the basic message.” ― When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times

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Want more? See all of my Magic Forest posts here.

World's Tallest Uncle Sam

I'm not sure why it's taken me so long to write a post about the World's Tallest Uncle Sam, but I first met this 4,500-pound, American icon in 2014. We drove to the Magic Forest in Lake George, only to find that it had already closed for the season. I was devastated, but I could see quite a bit of the park from the parking lot, and the parking lot itself has attractions—including a huge Santa and what they claim to be the World's Tallest Uncle Sam. 

I went back to the Magic Forest the following year during the open season, and got to revisit the Uncle Sam along with their vast collection of other fiberglass animals, figures, fairytale structures and rickety rides. As tends to be the case amongst objects with "World's -est" titles, the "tallest" claim is a bit dubious—the Lake George Uncle Sam is 38 feet tall (David included in the photo above for scale), while there is one in Michigan that tops out at 42 feet.

The Magic Forest is a mecca for large statues—they have four Muffler Men variations, including a Bunyan, a clown, Pecos Bill and an Amish (?) happy halfwit. The Uncle Sam originally stood at the Danbury Fair in Connecticut (along with Chief Running Fair). He was purchased in 1981, and has stood at the entrance to the Magic Forest since the following year. According to the sign, he was "repainted with acme base coat clear coat system in 1992," and he seems to holding up very well. 

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Magic Forest
1912 U.S. 9,
Lake George, NY 12845
The park is open Memorial Day-Labor Day, but the Uncle Sam is visible year-round

Magic Forest: Storybook Forest

I know I've posted a lot about the Magic Forest, but there were so many wonderful, weird, creepy, strange and ridiculous things contained within the relatively small park that I'm still having a hard time grasping the scope of it all (this will be my last post on it though—unless I go back).

Most of the park felt very collected rather than curated. Figures of varying styles and genres are placed around seemingly haphazardly—Santa next to Uncle Sam, chickens next to elephants, Robin Hood next to the Easter Bunny. Things get slightly more cohesive when you enter the Storybook Forest section, although the style of the figures still varies wildly from scene to scene.

A large portion of the figures are of the glassy-eyed, often open-mouthed variety that is common throughout the park. It's pretty obvious that these figures were all made by the same person, and they're the reason I though this post was Halloween-week appropriate—they're terrifying.

As the name implies, the Storybook Forest includes figures and scenes that can be found in classic storybooks and nursery rhymes. Goldilocks and her three bears (which looked an awful lot like seals), the Old Lady in the Shoe, the Mad Hatter, Jack Sprat (and his wife), Little Jack Horner and Little Boy Blue are just some of the stories represented.

Like a lot of other things in the Magic Forest, most of the storybook scenes were broken or damaged in some way. Almost all had buttons that, when pushed would tell the story on which the scene was based—in theory. I think I pushed every one and had about a 10% success rate, but it should be obvious by now that a large part of the Magic Forest's appeal to me was its scrappiness.

And like finding a Van Tassel headstone at Green-Wood, I was thrilled to see two classic Washington Irving stories represented: Rip Van Winkle and the Legend of Sleepy Hollow, which both felt right at home in the overgrown, cobweb-covered, slightly spooky and entirely wonderful Storybook Forest.

Magic Forest: Animals

In addition to all of the glassy-eyed, nightmare-inducing, not-quite-human inhabitants of the Magic Forest, there are tons of animals—fiberglass, plastic, realistic, fantastical and otherwise—roaming the grounds as well.

While I'm obviously not actually creeped out by anything in the Magic Forest—in fact, I loved it all more than anything—I can objectively see how strange it all is. The people statues were definitely more on the creepy side of things, and while some of the animals skewed toward the macabre, some were downright adorable.

One of the adult rides is a safari, which is basically a trolley pulled very slowly by a noxious-fume-emitting diesel tractor. The ride takes you through a section of the park you can't walk through, and by animals thrown together in scenes that make sense—until they don't. There are jungle animals, dinosaurs, bears, chickens, deer, foxes, pink flamingos and tigers cohabiting, proving that the Magic Forest is indeed a magical land where these creatures all live in harmony.

There are lion-head drinking fountains, hippo-head trash cans, dirty stuffed animals, an animal band, unicorns, poodles and polar bears—all of which are different styles and come from totally different worlds, but work together to create the weird world that I loved so much.

Magic Forest: People

The landscape of the Magic Forest is made up of hundreds of figures from various genres, holidays and stories. They're made of fiberglass or concrete or other materials, covered in cobwebs and sit in various stages of decay. Before you even enter the grounds, you encounter a few larger-than-life figures, including Santa Claus, who seems to be the unofficial mascot of the park.

A lot of the Magic Forest is holiday-themed, most of which is specifically Christmas, so it makes sense that one of the first figures to greet you is Santa. He also appears on the big pencil and the pennant souvenirs that I bought, alongside the diving horse and train ride as Magic Forest highlights. The first attraction that we went in was also Christmas-themed, and throughout the forest we saw a few more Santa figures, including one with a belly so large that it was resting on a stool.

There were a lot of elves and fairy-type figures scattered around, peeking down from the tops of buildings, waving magic wands and reaching out to steal your children and your innocence. It's actually astounding just how many figures they've fit into a relatively small amusement park. A lot of the figures seem haphazardly placed, but some feel as if they were designed with the structures in mind.

I joked at one point that I was going to do an entire post on busted hands, because it seemed like everywhere we looked there was a gnarled appendage. I would estimate that the majority of figures we encountered were in less-than pristine condition, missing some fingers or their hands entirely. Some had been repaired, and of course wear-and-tear is to be expected at a 52-year-old park. But I love the weirdness of mannequins and loose body parts in general, so the more busted parts I spotted, the more I fell in love with the Magic Forest.

There were some figures that looked like they were distant cousins of the muffler men, like the tomahawk-wielding Native American or the Walt Disney/friendly-gas-station-attendant lookalike. There are so many different styles on display at the Magic Forest and it truly feels like a collection slowly acquired over decades. Some are more realistic than others, some are cute, some are creepy and some—like anything that had glass eyes—will be haunting me for quite some time.

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.

Muffler Men: Magic Forest

In addition to the two Paul Bunyan muffler men that we saw on our recent trip to Lake George, we saw a few other less traditional figures. The Magic Forest contains four muffler men, including one Bunyan, a clown, an Amish-looking "happy halfwit" and Pecos Bill.

While the Bunyans are the most classic, the thing I love most about muffler men is the customization and variation between them. It's fascinating to me the amount of objects, themes and outfits that all sprung from essentially the same place, multiplied by changes made throughout the years.

The clown is the one I was most looking forward to seeing, simply because it varies the most from the standard model. I was disappointed slightly that he wasn't holding anything (a hot dog!?), but his "come here little children" gesture definitely ups the creep factor significantly.

While I certainly recognize their ability to creep, I've never really been scared of clowns. The Pecos Bill muffler man, however, definitely made me feel a bit uneasy. The lighting was such that his face was in shadow, which made him feel more sinister than I'm sure he was meant to be. I do love his airbrushed belt buckle, although that feels like a more modern addition.

The happy half wit is the most intriguing—I'm not exactly sure what possessed someone to style this half wit like an Amish lumberjack, but I'm into it. According to the muffler men-experts, American Giants, the half wit is a name coined by Roadside America for the Alfred E. Neuman-lookalike that International Fiberglass (maker of the muffler men) called the "mortimer snerd." The one at the Magic Forest sports and Amish-style beard, hat and shirt and carries what appears to be a rather new axe. We discovered a busted axe laying on the ground pretty close to the halfwit, although I guess it could have once belonged to Pecos Bill (now object-less) or my fantasy-husband-Bunyan near the entrance.

Magic Forest: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

I'm eternally fascinated by relics from past World's Fairs, particularly anything from the 1939/40 and 1964/65 fairs held in Queens. I had forgotten that the Magic Forest claims to have a Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs attraction from the 1939 World's Fair, so when the lady who sold us our tickets mentioned it, I think I actually squealed with recognition and delight.

I did some more research on the exhibit when I returned home, and it turns out that it's (probably) not actually from a World's Fair (or even made by Disney), but was created for a department store by a papier-mâché company in Ohio licensed to create window displays with Disney characters. I'll admit that I'm still a bit bummed that I have to take it off my list of World's Fair relics I've seen (Sinclair dinosaurs, muffler man, NY State Pavilion, Unisphere, Panorama), but it's still very old, historical and slightly weird so I'm glad we got a chance to see it.

The figures are original and made of papier-mâché, although they have been repainted and reclothed at various times since 1937. The figures move in limited ways, powered by wooden cams and rods. The animation is crude by today's standards, of course, but in a world of video screens and crazy technology it's really charming to see something so simple. The restoration work varies from hardly noticeable (or not-at-all-noticeable) to pretty obvious, although I'm sure it's difficult to maintain so many figures/scenes, especially when most pieces are constantly in motion. 

I spent longer than I thought I would in the exhibit—I'm not a huge Snow White fan, and it's a pretty small room, but the figures are full of personality and the sets are interestingly detailed. The exhibit has a very It's a Small World feel, complete with repeating stuck-in-your-head-for-days-soundtrack and figures that are obviously cartoonish, but just real enough to imagine them coming to life at night, when everyone goes home.

Muffler Men: Bunyans

Muffler men—large, fiberglass sculptures mainly used for advertising in the 1960s—are quintessential roadside America. Although they're called "muffler" men, the first one was made as a Paul Bunyan character, holding an axe. There are many variations on this general theme—including women, clowns, astronauts, Indians, half-wits and at least one Chicken Boy—but the Paul Bunyan ones are my favorite. During our trip to Lake George we saw five muffler men, two of which are in the classic style.

The first one we saw is from the 1964/65 World's Fair, and currently resides at the Around The World mini golf course, right across from Lake George. He's on the "Around the World" course—not the "Around the U.S." course—which is a bit perplexing. He originally stood in front of the Oregon pavilion at the World's Fair, and is now (mis)representing the Canada hole. The sign next to him also wrongly uses the symbol for the '39 World's Fair, but confusion aside I'm so glad he's still around.

The second Bunyan is visible from the parking lot of the Magic Forest, off of Route 9 a few minutes south of the lake. He was technically the first muffler man I ever saw, back when I had my Wally World moment and arrived to find that the park had closed for the season. It was great to be able to see him almost exactly a year later, and get the 360-view since I actually got inside of the Magic Forest on this trip. There must be some reason why he isn't holding his axe horizontally, although I do appreciate the log set-up, and his plaid shirt makes him my favorite of all the muffler men I've seen so far.

Magic Forest in Lake George, NY

At the beginning of September we went on a weekend road trip to Vermont to see a play on a Saturday night and I knew I wanted to find something weird and roadside-attractiony to see on the way back to New York. A bit of scouring on the Roadside America app led me to the discovery of the Magic Forest amusement park, in the resort town of Lake George, New York.

Opened in 1963, Magic Forest doesn't seem to have changed much—if at all—since the '60s and I was super excited to spend the day there taking photos of all of the Muffler Men, rickety rides and fairytale-themed buildings nestled amongst the pine trees.

Well, thanks to Google horribly misrepresenting their hours, we drove two hours only to find out that the Magic Forest was closed for the season. I spent a good deal of time walking around the fences, trying to decide if I could overcome my annoying law-abiding nature and break in, but I eventually decided against it. From what I could see through the fences, the Magic Forest looked even more spectacular than I had imagined—creepy and kitschy and just the right amount of run down to make me devastated that I have to wait almost an entire year before the park opens again.

They're open from Memorial Day to Labor Day, and I've already vowed to return for opening weekend. They have the World's Largest Uncle Sam, a train, a tram, a mile-long safari, a magic show and the only remaining diving horse attraction in the country, not to mention all of the statues and fairytale cottages—Magic Forest might be my favorite place and I haven't even stepped inside of the gates yet.