We left Glacier feeling excited and headed West. We left pretty late since we had been in the boat most of the day and drove for a few hours. At this point, we hadn’t stayed anywhere either of us had imagined when we thought of this wildly adventurous trip to Alaska. So far we had been fighting street kids instead of bears... and our Friday night stay would be the epiphany of non-wilderness camping.
We were driving for awhile when it was getting close to dusk. We were near the border of Washington at this point and had planned to get to somewhere near Wenatchee National Forest. We were only near Quincy though when all of the sudden Adam noticed this sign for a local ORV Park. I had NO IDEA what that all encompassed. He said, “Sometimes they have camping. Let’s check it out.” Sure. That won’t be different than normal camping, I thought. Oh, wait, what’s ORV mean???
We took a lot of turns and followed these “signs” I never saw but Adam spotted with no problem. “Oh, it’s this way.” And, “Let’s just keep going further.” He knew it all too well. We started out in this nice fancy dance neighborhood and ended on a sand dune in what looked like the Western Sahara. We drove and drove and drove down this sandy gravelly road until we came to a sign that read, MOSES LAKE SAND DUNES RULES AND REGULATIONS. ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES PROHIBITED. The alcohol part was written 18 times bigger than the other part. Interesting, I thought, a little abrasive for being in the middle of nowhere.
We entered the “park” and drove for a couple miles down these windy dark sandy tracks with a few turn outs here and there. Adam said, “Should we pull over here?”, pointing to one and I said, “Yep.”
To which he responded, “Let’s just go a little further.”
Before I knew it, we were in this little dirt bike village with monster trucks, oversized everything, American flags, blaring music, pods of people, trailers, and tons of tents. The little village popped up around a single bathroom. One side of the road had an electric-fence plastered with "No Trespassing” signs and the other was an endless sandpit. We had driven on this dark quiet road for 2-3 miles and saw a guy fishing and another couple pulled over in a lot. That’s it. And then we stumbled on this wild underground world. Adam was just beaming. Part of me felt like I just walked in on a Fight Club meeting.
(This picture does NOT show what I was referring to. This was MAYBE 5% of a crazy pop up village. This picture shows a baby village. I was too scared to photograph a real one).
We drove past the first vehicle mecca and again it was silent. No one around. It almost seemed like we dreamed up that underage drinking and driving party. But sure enough, near the next bathroom was another pop up college town. Just as wild and crazy as the first. We pulled over and a train of dirt bikes started whizzing by. Adam could hardly contain himself.
We decided to stay a little to the side of the party and be the awkward outcasts. We left the side van door open for awhile and watched the dirt bikers fly by as fireworks shot off above us. THAT I guess was neat. We were pretty wiped out at this point and decided to hit the hay once the fireworks ended. HA.
Every time I fell asleep it felt like a volcano was starting to erupt. I woke up in a dead panic at least 8 times. It sounded like I was about to be chainsawed. The bikes/trucks/whatevers kept going. ALL NIGHT. It was like we parked in the middle of a monster truck show. By the time sunlight hit, I was done trying to sleep. We talked about staying the next day to do some actual dirt biking ourselves (or so Adam could) but decided to keep going… awe shucks.
The Real Story:
July third. Two thousand and fifteen.
Interstate 90 West in eastern Washington.
Dusk casts its demotivating shadow upon us. If we hadn't stopped in Ritzville at one of the most unsanitary, overpriced fast food joints, we could have made it to camp in the Wenatchee National Forest before sunset.
Blazing down the freeway with no particular destination for the night, I spot a miniscule sign for an Off Road Vehicle Park in Moses Lake Washington. The sign simply reads "ORV Park" with an arrow. As I swerve across an empty lane of traffic to make the exit, I'm already grasping for excuses for the mid-to-high speed maneuver. "Yeah..so I've heard they allow camping at some off road places...heh..."
We navigated through an upscale neighborhood on the west side of Moses Lake. With a combination of dead reckoning and the occasional aid of a crudely hand painted sign along the roadside, we eventually snaked our way to the beginning of the ORV park.
The road gradually eroded into a deceptive mix of gravel and loosely packed sand. As we rounded the southern end of the lake, a group of muddy, doorless YJ Jeeps were lining up at a trailhead ready for action. Excellent. My leg involuntarily kicks in excitement. "Let's just go a little farther" I say to an already skeptical passenger. Eyes roll.
Sand dunes are our horizon. As we pitch and roll through the lunar landscape, an increasing number of campsites and gatherings are unfurling. ATVs, Jeeps, dirt bikes, sand rails, side by sides are all BLASTING through the dunes with LED light bars a-blazing. "Maybe just a little farther" I say as we ascend a steep incline.
As my excitement rapidly builds, I can sense someone else's patience quickly diminishing. I start searching for the nearest level parking turnout.
At this point, RVs, trailers, Jeeps, tents and anything you could imagine are parked along the rugged roadway. We eventually nestled into a spot that seemed fairly tranquil. I step out of the VAN and notice the moon is slowly rising over the dunes. The tranquility immediately transforms into the thunderous "BraAAAAAAP!" of a series of ATV's hauling past our site. I can almost feel the burn from Rachel's glare on the back of my neck. Better not turn around.
We stand around for a little while taking in all the strange lights and sounds. Depending on who you ask, this could possibly be the coolest place on Earth.
Relaxing in the VAN, we watched a small fireworks display with the sliding door open. Where else do you get to watch fireworks from bed?
I closed my eyes as the low, guttural growl of a Volkswagen powered sand rail cruising past lulled me to sleep. I waken only briefly to the sound of Rachel digging for her earplugs.
Coolest place on Earth.