When the word spread through town that the judge was gong to make his decision that afternoon there was a great deal of tension in the air. Fall was beginning. All too soon the snow would be falling. Winters had been becoming severer for the last few years. The sheriff did not want to have to deal with protesters' providers in the winter time. He had enough to contend with!
The courtroom began to fill long before two. The judge had ordered that only three press representatives could be present, and one camera, that was to be placed to the left of the courtroom so it could show him and the parties at their tables. When the principles were there the bailiff cried "Here ye! Here ye! This court of the state of Vermont in the county of Whitmore is now in session. All rise for the most honorable Judge Paul Wentworth!" Everyone rose. The judge entered, took his seat and nodded. "You may be seated," the bailiff snapped. "Let all those who have business in this court make themselves known. Let all others be silent."
"We all know why we're here," the judge began. "The county has taken the snowmobile trails on Shadow Mountain by eminent domain. The owners of the property have challenged that seizure, and I am forced to render a decision on the matter. Both sides are equally uncompromising and I wish this was not so. I would like to see the ill will between members of our community pass away. But it is obviously not going to. So I am forced to take some action. I rule the county can seize the property by eminent domain. But ONLY the property on the main trail that connects the other two trails in our separate communities. All side trails revert to the ownership of the resort. The snowmobilers may use the main trail, but ONLY the main trail. They are NOT to stop on the resort's property except in the case of an emergency such as an injury or a breakdown. But these are the only reasons they can stop. All I am giving you is a right of passage. If there is any trouble whatsoever, if the snowmobilers refuse to stay on the trail, I may well close it completely! Now I consider this a fair compromise, which I hope all will accept and I sincerely ask the owners of this land NOT to appeal. Let this matter go! Make peace with the other members of this community and share with them. Now, that is all!"
Longbow rose. The judge looked at him and nodded. "Yes?" he asked.
"Your honor," Longbow began, "with deepest respect we understand that your honor is trying to be fair, and feels he has made a reasonable compromise. And we are grateful. But I am afraid we have to appeal. We still lay claim to the smowmobile trails. They are our property, and we want them BACK!"
The judge shook his head. "You will be issued the proper papers," he sighed, "so you can appeal to the state supreme court. Now, if there is nothing else, I'd like to conclude this."
Dinsmore rose. "Your honor!" he cried, "Permission to speak."
"Proceed!" the judge moaned.
"Your honor, yesterday evening I became aware of a new action these people are taking that has my wife up in arms. Yesterday Ellen James called the resort. Her daughter is getting married next month. They were overjoyed to hear that the resort was reopening, because they would be able to carry on their family tradition of getting married in the resort's chapel, and having their reception and spending their honeymoon there. When Mrs. James called she was asked to identify herself. She was then told the chapel and the banquet hall would not be available the days they wanted, and that there were no reservations available at the lodge.
She thought the representative's actions kind of strange, so she had a neighbor, Mrs. Fields, who has nothing to do with the snowmobile club call, making the exact same reservations.
She was told all the times they wanted were open and could be booked if they wanted them. I have also been informed that club members are being refused reservations at the resort's restaurant while individuals NOT belonging to snowmobile clubs easily get reservations. We would like something done about this situation, your honor. If possible," Dinsmore added, then sat down.
The judge stared at him for a moment then looked to the other table. "Are you," he asked, "denying services to members of this community because they belong to the snowmobile club?"
It was Phil who spoke. "Your honor, what do they expect? They steal our land, cause us to go through all this difficulty, and then expect to use our facilities? They steal from us and then come up and say 'Oh come on! Let bygones be bygones!' Well, we don't work that way, your honor. They give our land back, stay off our mountain and we'd be more than glad to welcome them as customers. As long as they will not, we won't serve them."
The judge banged his gavel. "By God you will!" he screamed, "or you'll serve NOBODY! I'm ordering a clerk of courts assigned to your staff. You will pay his salary. He will take all reservations on a first come first served basis. It is either that or shut down! Damn it, I'm sick of this attitude! They are decent, God fearing people. They are not thieves! The clerk will be on premises 9 o'clock tomorrow morning."
"No he won't!" Phil snapped. "As of this moment until this matter is resolved the resort is CLOSED!"
The judge looked furious but only muttered "If that's your wish. That concludes these proceedings. Baliff?"
"All rise!" the bailiff snapped.

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