Washington’s Bellingham and its environs capitalize on and protect their primo location.
Usually, border towns have to choose sides—here or there, this side or that. But Bellingham, Washington, has found a way to be uniquely—and invitingly—itself. About 45 miles from Vancouver, British Columbia (better radio stations), and 85 miles from Seattle (TV without mention of obscure hockey teams), Bellingham is poised between the ocean and the glaciated peaks of Mount Baker. In spring, fields of tulips stretch away for miles, looking like some kind of finger-painted optical illusion; in fall, the local wineries take a breather after harvest. Year-round, ships of the Alaska Marine Highway chug past town from their southern terminus, headed north.
Bellingham is anchored by the Fairhaven District, a square mile or so of turn-of-the-century buildings turned to modern uses: Village Books stretches across three floors, two cafés, and who knows how many new and used volumes waiting to be browsed. No shop would dream of telling you to leave your dog outside—in fact, a day's shopping may leave the pup fat with too many biscuits from countertop help-yourself jars. In the small Village Green, musicians play each summer Saturday evening as folks gather for a free movie projected onto an 1800s building wall (parkside rooms upstairs at the Fairhaven Village Inn have the best view). Nearby, the town's best pizza, made at Pizza'zza (local ingredients—this enterprise supports the Slow Food movement) is actually fired inside a former gas station. In the context of Bellingham, a town not interested in other's preconceptions, that makes perfect sense.
At the end of winter, that border season when most people can't decide whether to put the skis away or get the kayak out, Bellingham proves there's no reason to choose. The Ski to Sea race—an annual event since 1973 that updates the early-20th-century Mount Baker Marathon—links mountain and ocean. The course is 89 miles of cross-country skiing, snowboarding, running, cycling, canoeing, mountain biking, and, for the last sprint, kayaking. Winning time is usually right around five hours, followed by roughly an equal amount of time at Boundary Bay, the town's microbrewery.
For those who want their outdoors with a little less sweat, Chuckanut Bay stretches out south of town. Drive along the road that follows a cliff line above the ocean. You will see barrier islands that give seals a place to rest. Recently, when faced with development or view, Bellingham overwhelmingly chose view. Six miles down Chuckanut Drive is Larrabee State Park. Founded in 1915, it's the state's oldest. Hang out on the beach, hike the cliff (using the wind-sculpted trees for handholds), or head up into the deep forest, where dozens of kinds of ferns offer enough shades of green to make leprechauns homesick.
Larrabee isn't the only park in town. In fact, Bellingham has a string of green spaces, which "reflects the values of the locals—the 'Hamsters,'" says resident Libby Garcia.
