What a retreat planner needs to know before bringing twenty-two people up a mountain — dimensions, beds, baths, AV, and where the coffee is. No details withheld.
Forty-six by thirty feet under a cathedral ceiling, with the stone fireplace rising the full two stories. A circle of thirty fits without raising voices; the long tables seat twenty-six for dinner. When sessions run late, the fire does the closing.
Two kings and a queen on the entry level, each en-suite — no stairs between bed, bath, hearth, and deck.
Queens and twin pairs along the quiet side of the ridge, plus the bunk loft that sleeps four — the corner every group's twenty-somethings claim.
A snug with its own wood stove for breakouts, late-night card games, or the introverts' corner during free hours.
Two levels, one big idea: everyone sleeps well, and everyone ends up by the fire. The main level is step-free end to end — hearth, dining, deck, and three en-suite bedrooms without a single stair.
The lodge and grounds, drawn to plan — illustrative, not to scale.

The buyout includes the mountain: the fire bowl on the overlook, the trailhead down to the Little River, and a deck that hangs over the valley fog at dawn. The nearest neighbor is a half-mile of forest away. What's private here: the whole ridge.