A thickly forested hillside watches over I-5. Its century-old trees hide the fantastical structures of the Enchanted Forest from the view of passing drivers. The sign, however, can’t be missed. Towering over the highway, the vibrant illustration of Humpty Dumpty sitting upon an archetypal storybook castle only hints at what remains unseen.
The Enchanted Forest sits 7 miles from the center of Salem, Oregon, nestled between farmland, vineyards and an army green quarry truck adorned with the Decepticon logo from Transformers. It lives on Enchanted Way, which parallels the highway and leads guests from their exit to the parking lot.
Stepping into the park highlights the stark difference between the real and fantasy world. It can be surreal just being here, Tim Ward, a young park employee, says.
All of the original structures, depicting the fantastical escapades of characters from Snow White to Little Red Riding Hood, are hand-sculpted and hand-painted. The art style, inspired by the likes of Norman Rockwell, adds to the ambiance of childhood fairytale illustrations.
Every brush stroke speaks to the story of the family who built the park from the ground up. The trees would tell tales of resilience and innovation. As a family-owned and family-operated theme park, the Enchanted Forest faces a lot of uncertainty unfelt by parks backed by multi-billion dollar companies. Despite all of the challenges faced, the park remains standing.
While all the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty together again, Roger Tofte could.
Tofte, park’s founder, bought the hillside property in 1964 after a road trip to Minnesota made him and his family notice the lack of roadside family attractions in Oregon. He was a man with many ideas — constantly searching for a side project outside of his job at the state highway department — but none had stuck. He repaired watches, painted plates and houses and even invented a board game. On that trip, however, he realized he could apply his artistic talents to fill the gap and build an attraction of his own.
For the first few years after the park finally opened in 1971, it was a family affair. The Tofte family was staffed wherever needed. Susan Vaslev, 14 at the time and the oldest of the kids, worked the combination entrance and gift shop while her siblings manned the hot dog stand, cleared trails and wiped down tables for guests. The youngest of them was only four years old.
Despite the financial risk, it was a time of “pure excitement,” and no one doubted it would become a huge success.
The night after opening weekend, Vaslev and her siblings celebrated on their parents’ bed as any child would dream to: by tossing the $1,000 cash the park had made in the air and jumping around in it. Vaslev, while admitting she was naive at the time about the cost of maintenance of running a theme park, will never forget that first weekend. For her parents, however, the money meant paying off half their initial loan –– and a promise of a bright future ahead.
During the winter months, the park is empty. Structures covered with blue and brown tarps line the path of Storybook Lane, which leads guests into the park. Windows remain motionless where animatronics were removed to survive the winter. The trail, usually spotless, is covered in a layer of fallen branches, cones and needles.
This is standard for the Enchanted Forest’s off-season. While the park is only open six months out of the year — from March through September — maintaining the park is a procedure for all 12 months. Rides are taken apart and tested. Patching cracks in the sidewalk and touching up paint is a constant affair. The log ride itself takes six weeks to pressure wash, Vaslev says, which can only begin once the water is turned back on without risk of freezing.
“When Dad originally built this, I know, naive as we were, we thought, ‘Oh! We’ll be able to vacation during the winter!” Vaslev says. “And that was the opposite of the truth.”
The park goes on a strict day-by-day schedule in preparation for opening March 18. It will be the first time in two years that the park plans to open for the entire six-month season. Once February hits, there are no days off. Anything that goes wrong during this period is a setback, Vaslev says.
Going into 2020, the Enchanted Forest as a company had no outstanding debts. However, with the onset of a global pandemic, the family-run theme park struggled to keep up. The Enchanted Forest was set to open for the 2020 season around March 17, but state mandates and the looming threat of COVID-19 forced the business to stay closed. All of their alternative plans were rejected and income stagnated.
The park’s season was cut in half, unable to open in any capacity until June 27, 2020. Even then, the Enchanted Forest had to comply with a capacity of 250 people including staff, which was “next to no money” for a business that averaged a couple of thousand visitors each day, Vaslev says.
The Tofte family needed to find the money for the park to survive the winter.
“Our backup plan was to sell our houses,” Vaslev says. While she and her husband were struggling with the decision to let go of their home initially, as the closures crept on, they began to accept what sacrifices they might have to make to save the family business.
When the Oregon Chamber of Commerce sent out a notice that businesses would not be receiving any assistance and would need to rely on third-party means to stay afloat, the Tofte family got to work.
Determined to make it to the park’s 50th year, the Tofte family brainstormed all of the revenue streams they could. They opened up an online storefront to sell the merchandise sitting in the gift shop. They started to auction prints of ride sketches and concept art.
Tofte also finally agreed to start a “Buy-a-Brick” campaign in the Enchanted Forest. Now people can donate a set amount of money and, in return, have a customized brick installed in the park. Despite no longer needing the funds, Vaslev says it’s a program they’re never going to end because of how meaningful it has been to people. She remembers one letter in particular, written by a father who had lost his son at a young age. After years of searching for the right place to commemorate his name, he decided on the Enchanted Forest, as it was where his son was happiest.
The pathway winding through the Old European Village is now decorated with a checkerboard of pink bricks, memorializing events from weddings to graduations to deaths. Marking the beginning is a brick placed by the Tofte family in honor of Wyatte Tofte and Peggy Musso, two beloved family members who had passed in the Beachie Creek fire.
The bricks are placed in a sand base and are a part of park history forever.
But the Tofte family’s most successful venture, by far, was their GoFundMe page. What started as a simple ask for help soon skyrocketed to more than $466,000 in donations as the public rushed to help the struggling business.
“When we were fundraising, we were very low-tech,” Vaslev says. “We would just state [what was happening] in our own words. Not dressed up all fancy, just us.”
The GoFundMe page, locked from receiving funds since last summer, is a testament to the community’s support. The page accumulated 644 comments and 8,500 donations, immortalizing the sentiments of people from across the country, determined to keep the park afloat.
“Enchanted Forest is a totally unique treasure,” Mark Madland says in a comment. “It is a place of wonder that is irreplaceable.”
Reasons for donations range from preserving history to fond memories of the park made in the past decades. Some parents want to take their kids, such as Katie Winters, who writes that it’s her dream to bring her son now that he’s old enough. Others simply dream of seeing the park themselves one day.
“These places are far too important to be allowed to disappear,” John Nolan, who is from Pennsylvania and read about the Enchanted Forest in a travel guide, says. “I hope that once COVID is just a memory, I can make the journey to Oregon and visit the Enchanted Forest.”
Riding on the coattails of near-financial devastation, the family could only think about reopening. But in February of 2021, disaster struck again. The winter ice storm hit with a ferocity that left hundreds of thousands of people without power. Vaslev says the Enchanted Forest suffered some of the worst damage she had seen yet.
“We lost so many trees,” Vaslev says, and when they fell, they “cut through things like butter.” She added that in the fallout, “there were so many trees, you couldn’t even walk.”
The Toftes didn’t know the extent of the devastation until the fire department called. The Challenge of Mordor, an indoor ride in the park, was experiencing such severe flooding that it set the alarms off. Without power, Vaslev did the only thing she could: texting every contractor she knew to see if they’d be available the next morning.
Today, Vaslev notes that the damage is hardly visible.
The Enchanted Forest’s resilience reflects that of its owners. The park’s success has been built through the decades of work of a single family.
Vaslev always thought she would be a concert performer. When she studied in Paris, she planned to perform during the winter and come back to Oregon during the summer to help out at the park. When her mom was diagnosed with cancer, her dream changed, but she’s never regretted coming home to be with her family “for a second.”
Now, Vaslev is the art director for the park. She writes and directs all of the plays put on. She composes all of the music, immersing guests from one section of the park to another. She created the Enchanted Forest’s own band “Possibly Irish,” which she still performs in. Years ago, Vaslev even learned how to stain glass — many of the windows adorning the European-style street are her own custom-made creations.
Carrying on the legacy of the park’s first years, the Enchanted Forest is still a Tofte business. Many key figures in the day-to-day operations of the park are part of the family, Vaslev says. The park employs three generations. Her sister works behind-the-scenes, her uncle works on the construction, and her son is head of maintenance. Tofte is 92 years old but is frequently seen walking the paths of the park he dreamt up decades ago. Her youngest sister doesn’t work for the park directly but now owns her own architecture firm, in part inspired by the creative environment they grew up immersed in.
Expanding on the park — which used to happen almost yearly — has been put on pause while the family gets back on its feet.
That is, all except for one project. Replacing the Western Town’s old Museum of Comedy, Vaslev is currently working on reworking the space to better reflect the past few years. To honor the park, a new museum will showcase the past 50 years of the Enchanted Forest’s history: a collection of all of the items they couldn’t bear to let go of such as old street signs.
“We watched my dad get an idea, pencil out ideas, decide on something, turn in plans, and just start building. He drew up all his own plans initially,” Vaslev says. “The big thing I learned from him is that if you get an idea and you’re ready to go, just start it and just keep working at it and keep working at it. And eventually it gets done.”