Into the Falls

Nestled deep within the forested mountains of the American Northeast, a refuge hides, distantly removed from the deafening chaos of the faster-paced parts of our society. Many see the little town as they pass through, interested perhaps in the trails which wander through or floating down the river, pulled by currents eons in the making.

Though no major highway runs through our little town (or indeed even nearby), there are some who make Champion Falls their destination: most are seasonal, only preferring our unique climate in certain conditions. There are some, however, who have chosen, if not to stay year round, to ensure that they will always have a place to call their own in the isolated valley below the Falls. A non-obligatory month-to-month lease actually does wonders when it comes to retaining tenants, I've found.

I was not looking for solitude when I stumbled upon the ghostly footprint of some long-forgotten logging town. Though I longed for a place to settle into where the Summers aren't too hot and the snow piles up in the Winter, it was not originally with the intention of forming a community in this heartbreakingly beautiful place which initially drew me here. I simply sought the wise council of trees, the infinite newness of running water, the silent power of mountains living out their geologic lifetimes. These things, though, are distant from the more populated places in our world, and solitude has never fazed me, so you could say I've put down roots.

A brisk walking tour had revealed a surprising amount of functional, if outdated, equipment for radio and television broadcasting; somebody once had bigger plans for this place than it ever was able to realize. Perhaps I can make use of these facilities; perhaps I can draw people who appreciate beauty like I do, I'd thought to myself. Perhaps together, we can make it better even than I can imagine on my own.

Now determined to learn all I could about the past of this defunct town, I set about exploring the rest of the buildings scattered among the young trees of the encroaching forest. Naturally, not every overturned stone hides a surprise, but there was one private residence bearing treasure within its walls. I felt a particular kinship across time with whomever had once called this place home. Though obviously abandoned for almost as long as the more industrial areas of the town, this resident had stayed for the same reasons as I: the clarity of mind which only a quiet life among nature can yield. Their collection of literature was exquisite, though age and elements hadn't neglected their duties. My interest piqued, I found myself moving aged furniture and prying open locks; I knew deep within me that something was here, practically calling out to me.

The reading nook in the front room had niggled at me from the first moment I'd seen it. At first, I’d assumed it was just how cozy and charming it had struck me which was keeping it in my mind. I couldn't resist sitting in the moldy armchair (I was already covered in dust and cobwebs, and with the particular humidity that day, a dip in the river was inevitable), and when I did, an infinitessimal seam shone horizontally from halfway up the bookcase to my left. A jiggle revealed it sat on hinges but was latched, and then it was only a matter of finding what triggered the latch. Behind was a metal panel which swung inward, revealing another library of sorts, though this had been protected in its little bunker. Piles of notes and annotated typeset folios filled the shelves. Much of it was English; much of it was not. Nor was it any language which I could recognize. A cipher? Regardless, the previous resident had been translating and compiling, and they had not completed the work. On the desk, a curled letter sat face up, with drafts of a response scattered around it. I'll spare you all the details, but it implored them to come back, demanding to know what could possibly be so important as to keep them away. The various drafts attempted myriad explanations (which mostly felt disingenuous even to me, removed though I was from the emotion of this relationship), but all came back to a single, powerful statement. "There's more out there, and I'm finding it, bit by bit. There's a truth here that must be uncovered. I have to save what's lost."

It is this home in which I decided to take up residence. I would use the tools at hand to drive people back here, for the sake of the beauty of this place. And I will uncover the secrets, find that truth which someone failed to learn so long ago. I've always fancied myself an explorer; had I lived 300 years ago, I'd have been on ships or trekking through wilderness. In our time, though, such things do not exist: our world is mapped, and new places are rare at best. As such, I could not resist naming the new incarnation of this abandoned logging town after myself, in the style of those long-dead adventurers. Welcome, my friends, to Champion Falls.