WHENEVER I LAND AT SEATTLE AIRPORT, I FEEL THE TINGLE OF ADVENTURE
Go west: that was the rallying cry of my childhood summers. For two glorious weeks, we’d trade New York’s concrete heat for the crisp air of my father’s native Washington state. At 10, I took my first solo flight to attend what we jokingly called ‘Camp Margi’, a stay at my aunt’s house in Seattle’s Madison Park, where I brushed up on swimming, sailing and all things outdoorsy with my cousins Jimmy and Chris.
Even now, whenever I land at Seattle’s airport, surrounded by towering firs and distant snowcapped Mount Rainier, I feel the tingle of adventure. Sure, it looks more like a true city these days – with an expanding light rail system, glass office towers and an influx of new residents lured by tech dollars. But amid the ensuing soulsearching, one thing remains uncontested: Seattle is a remarkably green place whose beaches, waterways and forests will bring out your inner nature lover.
A good place to start is the Center for
Wooden Boats, a hands-on maritime museum on the docks of South Lake Union, not far from Amazon’s new campus. It offers rentals, workshops and free sailings on Sunday, a tradition going back 40 years. Volunteer skippers take groups of four to 15 out on antique vessels; show up by 10am to get a first come, first served timeslot on your preferred boat (steam, sail or electric).
A fleet of water taxis and the country’s most extensive ferry network make it easy to continue zipping around with a sea breeze in your hair. I caught the 10-minute ride across Elliott Bay to West Seattle with my husband and daughter. Instagrammers, take note: as it pulls away, the taxi leaves in its wake a skyline panorama, including a Ferris wheel, the 21st century’s improbable big- city status symbol.
We spilled out of the ferry and onto the dockside patio of Marination Ma
Kai. The Hawaiian- Korean fusion spot, which began as a roving food truck, serves piquant combinations such as kimchi pork quesadillas, pork katsu sandwiches and kalbi beef tacos. Lunch fortified us for the 30-minute walk to Alki Beach along a bungalow-lined waterfront path that we shared with joggers, cyclists and rollerbladers enjoying the brilliant sunshine. If you think it sounds like a scene out of Southern California, you’re right – complete with beach volleyball, stand-up paddleboard rentals and palm trees.
Bainbridge Island, however, feels thoroughly Pacific Northwest, with its evergreen hills and rocky shorelines. It’s a 35-minute outing by ferry and entices with a mix of pursuits: get to know local talents at the contemporary Bainbridge Island of Art; stroll the forests and gardens of the 60-hectare Bloedel Reserve; rent a bike and then treat yourself to a scoop of
Mora Iced Creamery’s blackberry flavour made from local berries.
I explored Bainbridge between bridesmaid duties for my sister’s wedding one August, making it back downtown in time for welcome drinks at Hotel
Sorrento’s swanky fireside bar. The
rehearsal dinner was an intimate evening reunited in Aunt Margi’s backyard garden: one cousin floated the idea of ditching the East Coast for Seattle while an uncle in Arizona shared plans to split his retirement there. It was easy to appreciate the appeal from our setting in the bucolic Madison Park area, close to a public beach on Lake Washington and an arboretum.
Another morning was spent at Ballard Locks, an engineering feat that allows ships – and migrating salmon – to move from the salty Puget Sound to the freshwater Washington and Union Lakes. Summer is the peak season to come face to face with chinook or sockeye salmon.
An English-style botanical garden is part of the Ballard Locks complex, and it makes a manicured contrast to the untamed woods, driftwood-strewn beaches and meadows of nearby Discovery Park. A former military installation, as of 2011 it’s the largest park within Seattle’s 2,595-hectare system – laced with trails and a few historic landmarks (a Victorian- era lighthouse and Fort Lawton). More than 270 bird species have been documented here, along with seals, sea lions and the occasional coyote.
Even with all my time in Seattle, there are still wild corners that I’ve yet to experience. Take Golden Gardens on the Puget Sound, in the north end of artsy Ballard. Or Seward Park, which juts into Lake Washington in the shape of a thumbs up. On a clear day, you can walk the four-kilometre loop and see practically forever: downtown, the I-90 floating bridge, Mercer Island and Mount Rainier. Bald eagles live within the park, thick with old- growth Douglas firs, red cedars and madrones.
Seward Park has become a beloved refuge for my friend JD, who moved to Seattle about a year ago. When I asked for recommendations, she rattled off favourites in Columbia City, an off-thetourist-radar neighbourhood in south Seattle. She compared it to Brooklyn, raving about La Medusa’s Sicilian comfort food, Empire Espresso’s coffee and weekend waffle bar, the craft cocktails at Lottie’s Lounge and the Royal Room’s live music.
Not long ago, this was a provincial place, infamous for the ‘Seattle freeze’, as in the chilly reception that tended to greet outsiders. So I was heartened to sense that JD has already developed the opinionated loyalties that come with belonging. Maybe that’s the upside of Seattle’s boom – a warming of the climate that benefits locals and visitors alike.