Spokane

I’ve never seen a city casually put a waterfall in its living room until Spokane. Lia and I walked out of a downtown café, coffees in hand, expecting a pleasant urban stroll, and instead the ground began to roar. We followed the sound to a railing and there it was, the Spokane River hurling itself over a series of ledges in the middle of downtown, spray drifting up onto the pavement. Office workers leaned on the rail beside us, unbothered, as if a thundering cataract were the most normal lunchtime view in the world. In Spokane, it is.

The Falls at the Heart of Town

Riverfront Park wraps around the Spokane Falls, and it’s the soul of the place, a green expanse left over from a 1974 World’s Fair that the city has since polished into something lovely. The falls come in two stages, and in spring, swollen with snowmelt, they are genuinely ferocious. We rode the little SkyRide gondola out over the lower falls, dangling above the churn, Lia gripping my hand and grinning through her nerves. From up there the whole gorge opens, black basalt and white water and the city rising on both banks. Back on solid ground we walked the loops, past the restored 1909 carousel with its hand-carved horses, and let the mist cool us.

Brick Bones and a Reviving Downtown

Spokane got rich on railroads and mining, and its downtown still wears the evidence, blocks of handsome early-1900s brick and terracotta buildings that have found new life as breweries, bookshops, and restaurants. We spent an afternoon just reading the architecture, the ornate old bank facades, the grand Davenport Hotel with its Spanish-Renaissance lobby where we splurged on cocktails purely to sit under the coffered ceiling. There’s an unhurried, real-city feel here, none of Seattle’s frantic polish. Lia, who tires quickly of places that try too hard, kept remarking how comfortable it felt, a working city that happens to be handsome and doesn’t make a fuss about it.

Pine Country on the Doorstep

What sealed Spokane for us was how fast the city gives way to wilderness. Within twenty minutes of downtown we were among ponderosa pines at Riverside State Park, following trails along the river to the Bowl and Pitcher, a dramatic jumble of basalt boulders spanned by a swaying suspension footbridge. We crossed it slowly, the river loud below, the air suddenly thick with the vanilla scent of warm pine bark that I’d forgotten I loved. A pair of ospreys wheeled overhead. It felt a world away from the café where our morning began, though it was barely a short drive. Spokane keeps the wild close, which is exactly how I’d want to live.

Getting There

Spokane International Airport lies just west of downtown, a ten-minute drive, and serves as the hub for the whole Inland Northwest, with direct flights from Seattle, Denver, Salt Lake City, and beyond. By road, Spokane sits on Interstate 90 near the Idaho line, making it an easy stop between Seattle to the west and the lakes of northern Idaho just to the east. Downtown and Riverfront Park are thoroughly walkable, so you can skip the car if you’re staying central, but you’ll want wheels to reach Riverside State Park and to explore the pine country and wine valleys that ring the city. Spring brings the falls at their fullest, if you can time it.