On May 6, Ray called to tell me the last cabin had been removed. He sounded more relieved than triumphant. All 109 were gone, the foundations had been addressed, and the utilities and structures covered by the contract had been taken out. Final grading and seeding were underway. I thanked him and asked whether he had ever expected to oversee the dismantling of an entire resort so recently built. He said he hoped never to do it again.
The restoration crew spread native seed over the disturbed acreage during the following days and installed temporary protections where the bank was most vulnerable to runoff. By May 12, Summit's main crews had left. The site was far from pristine, but the buildings were gone, the intrusive infrastructure had been removed, and a credible plan for natural recovery had been put into place. I walked the eastern bank that evening with Luis. We crossed places where cabins had stood so close together that a family of elk could not have passed between them.
The land looked raw and open. There were tire impressions, fresh soil, young seed, and patches of newly planted willow. It would take time before the slope was again the place I remembered from childhood. But when I looked down its length, I no longer saw rows of rental decks or parking lights. I saw the natural bend of a hillside, the path of the old creek, and a lake basin waiting for water. It was the first view in months that made me believe the fight could end.
That afternoon, David called to confirm the release of the final $1.5 million under the settlement arrangements. The performance requirements had been documented, the environmental inspection had produced the necessary certifications, and the remaining restoration obligations were secured. The total payment was $3 million. I thanked him and asked for one more meeting before the reservoir was refilled. I wanted Martin, the environmental team, and the relevant water authorities satisfied that the work could move forward safely.
"You're allowed to feel good about this, James," David said. I looked at the empty shoreline and thought of the cabin owners. "I do," I answered. "I just don't think good is the same thing as easy." He was quiet for a moment, then told me he would send the final documents that evening. The law had given me a remedy, but the story had been far more expensive for everybody than any of us could have imagined in July.
On May 15, I walked down the path to Whitmore Dam with Martin beside me.
We had spent the previous two days reviewing the completion reports, the latest safety inspection, the remaining sediment conditions, and the plan for gradually restoring reservoir levels while maintaining required downstream flows. Environmental specialists had confirmed that the exposed basin was ready for the refill phase, subject to continued monitoring. The dam had passed the inspections that mattered, and the repairs identified during the drawdown had been completed or incorporated into the ongoing maintenance program. It was time to bring Lake Whitmore back.