A primer on Sugar Loaf, Leelanaus great mystery
From staff reports
Glen Arbor and communities throughout Leelanau County are abuzz with tourism at the height of our summer season. But Sugar Loaf, the picturesque resort in the middle of the peninsula that was once Leelanau’s largest employer, remains conspicuously quiet. Sugar Loaf commanded news headlines over the past nine months as rumors surfaced that new owners were about to acquire and reopen the resort. Sugar Loaf’s lifts last transported skiers up the mountain in 2000 and since then has withered under a colorful cast of owners.
Local media outlets, included the Glen Arbor Sun, have feasted on crumbs of evidence that real news may be close at Sugar Loaf. And yet, as of this paper’s press time, no solid evidence has emerged that the resort will reopen anytime soon.
Here’s a quick timeline of events surrounding Sugar Loaf since the resort reemerged in the headlines last September. Below that you’ll also find a list of major questions that remain about Sugar Loaf and its ownership.
Nine months of speculation
Sept. 28, 2013: Seemingly out of nowhere, the pay-for-print news service PRNewswire, publishes a report that Liko Smith—the enigmatic boxer turned hotelier, who has an extensive criminal record in California—has purchased Sugar Loaf and allegedly plans to open The RoK, a 560-acre snowboarders’ mecca, in November 2014. PRNewswire is unable to verify the authenticity of its report. Smith had made an ill-fated bid for Sugar Loaf in April 2010, but left town after he was unable to secure co-investors (and news emerged that he was broke) and reach a deal with nominal owner Kate Wickstrom.
October 3: Leelanau Enterprise reporter Eric Carlson, who covers the Sugar Loaf “beat” for the county’s paper of record, recaps how Liko Smith faced a felony count of grand theft in South Lake Tahoe, Calif., in 2010, and wrote on his website, LikoSmith.com that he was at his “lowest point, broke, detested and without friends … sitting in jail.” Smith is allegedly about to launch a luxury Las Vegas-based airliner called LV Air.
October 3: That night, the Sun breaks a story that a British-born banker named Oscar Peters, whom Smith had touted as his moneyman for LV Air and for Sugar Loaf, had never even heard of the Leelanau County ski resort and was backing out of any deals with Smith. All night and into the next morning, Smith calls the Sun, begging for the story to be retracted.
October 10: The Enterprise reports that, while Liko Smith gets lambasted on social media sites such as the Friends of Sugar Loaf Facebook page, the Sugar Loaf Townhouse Owners Association continues to press Leelanau County officials to obtain a warrant for a construction code authority inspection of the lodge’s interior—a move that could hypothetically lead to its seizure by the County and ultimate demolition.
November 14: The Enterprise reports that realtor John Peppler (Coldwell Banker) has raised Sugar Loaf’s listing price from $5.7 million up to $8.72 million. It’s unclear why, but the news all but confirms that Smith didn’t actually acquire the resort.
November 21: According to the Enterprise, Leelanau County officials have increased pressure on the owner of Sugar Loaf, whoever that is. Steven Haugen, the head of the county’s Construction Code Authority, has taped a violation notice on the windows and doors at Sugar Loaf, directing the owner to contact him and schedule an interior inspection of the facility within the next 10 days.
November 26: The Sun reports that, while former Sugar Loaf owner Kate Wickstrom is still listed as the resort’s owner, she transferred the deed to former owner Remo Polselli and Rock Investment Advisors in March 2013. But Polselli has yet to register that deed with the County, leaving Wickstrom legally on the hook. Remo and Hanna Karcho Polselli officially owned Sugar Loaf from 2000-2005 before “selling” to Wickstrom.
December 16: Construction Code Authority’s Steve Haugen confirms that he has secured permission from a County judge to enter and inspect the Sugar Loaf lodge, with or without the owner present, but he won’t do it until January at the earliest.
January 2014: Liko Smith, who now has a warrant out for his arrest in El Dorado County, Calif., is in frequent contact with Haugen, still claims to own Sugar Loaf and says he’ll return sometime this month for the inspection.
January 31: After boasting to a local radio station that he’d return and tour Sugar Loaf with Haugen today—after which he’d meet the public over beers for karaoke at the Cedar Tavern—Liko Smith doesn’t show. But just in case, at 1 p.m., Leelanau County Undersheriff Steve Morgan waits at the Sugar Loaf access road to make an arrest in case Liko shows.
February 5: Haugen finally enters and inspects Sugar Loaf, together with realtor John Peppler, who represents whoever the actual owner is, and County administrator Chet Janek. They find cosmetic damage, but no major sewer or water damage. Haugen will send the report to Wickstrom, who is still legally considered the owner.
February 7: Remo Polselli admits to the Sun that he is Sugar Loaf’s current owner, which many had long suspected, through his share in Rock Investment Advisors. Polselli won’t say what share he owns in the group, or who else is part of it, but he does confirm that Liko Smith is not a member. Peppler also confirms that he has been representing Rock Investment Advisors all this time. Polselli says he intends to officially register the ownership deed (still in Wickstrom’s name) within 30 days.
March 4: Steve Haugen finally publishes his violation report of Sugar Loaf in the form of a letter he sends both to Wickstrom and to Peppler.
April 3: A U.S. Department of Justice attorney in Washington, D.C., files a civil lawsuit alleging that Remo Polselli owes more than $5.1 million in unpaid federal taxes, penalties and interest, as related to 26 corporate entities with which he is involved.
June 5: The Enterprise obtained a copy of an email that Peppler sent to Polselli on May 23, which named “Landmark group” and “Solomon” and seemed to suggest that a purchase agreement was near. Steve Haugen tells the Enterprise he has heard from Polselli almost every week since March, and has been told that three different groups are interested in acquiring Sugar Loaf, and that an agreement could be in place within a couple weeks.
The questions that remain
• Who else (other than Remo Polselli) is part of Rock Investment Advisors? That is, who actually owns Sugar Loaf? While Polselli has been in frequent contact with realtor John Peppler (who lists the resort for $8.72 million) and with inspection code authority Steve Haugen, some wonder whether Polselli doesn’t work for someone else? I.e., who is actually pulling the strings here?
• What is Polselli’s actual relationship to Liko Smith, the California enigma who, one day, answers calls at Polselli’s New California Hotels in Laguna Beach, and the next day, claims he’s about to buy Sugar Loaf from Polselli? In other words, does Liko work with Remo or for Remo? And if he works for Remo, why did Polselli dangle Liko as a suitor both in 2010 and in 2013, when the broke, ill-reputed boxer “Googles poorly” and was so obviously going to fail?
• What is Polselli’s actual relationship to Kate Wickstrom, legally-speaker the owner of Sugar Loaf, who bought the resort from the Polsellis in 2005, even though Remo’s wife Hanna Karcho secretly controlled the mortgage? Wickstrom transferred the deed back to Remo last March, but he never filed it with the County. Is she a pawn, too? Both Wickstrom and Polselli claim they have never met each other.
• Since February, Polselli has implied on several occasions that two or three buyers are interested in Sugar Loaf. Who are they? Do they involve any of these strange characters currently in the picture, or new blood? Realtor John Peppler is a no-nonsense, standup local guy, and he’s not working this hard, for this long, for nothing. Something must be close.
• If Rock Investment Advisors does sell Sugar Loaf to a buyer, what will they do with the property? Could it ever be a ski resort again? The lifts haven’t run in 14 years and would definitely need to be replaced. The lodge, too, and most structures on the property probably need a serious upgrade. Making a profit here is no easy task. The real estate possibilities, on the other hand, are golden. Perhaps the ski hills will become million-dollar mansions and condominiums—to the chagrin, of course, of three generations of locals who learned to ski on these slopes.
• Will otherwise quiet, slow-news Leelanau County ever have a story this mysterious, filled with true crime, strange characters, and a storyline that reads like a John Grisham novel? From a storytelling perspective, this might be as good as it gets.
