The Pacific Northwest invites people to come as they are and shed stress in its big beautiful backyard. But what about Seattle? Can you still digital detox and connect with nature if you’re staying in the region’s biggest city? Writer and Seattle-local Amanda Castleman gives us the lowdown.
Snowflakes drifted like cherry blossoms as I emerged from the Salish Sea, trudging in the bulky dive gear necessary for seven degree celsius (44 degrees fahrenheit) water temperatures. The sight detoured two busloads of Korean tourists; the passengers jockeying to photograph the “lady divers!”
I couldn’t blame them—Seattle’s iconic Space Needle and city skyline provided the perfect backdrop—but equally I didn’t feel like providing local color. Almost everyone looks like a salmon-stuffed orca in a 7/7mm wetsuit.
Of course my braid caught in the zipper—how inevitable. My friends tore at the snarl as our paparazzi memorialized me screeching, “just rip it! I’m freezing!” As I broke towards the shelter of the park’s public showers, the buses paced me, flashes illuminating the flurries.
So, yeah… I’m big in Korea now, I guess? But that’s a small price to pay for residing in the world’s fourth best city, according to Oxford Economics’ 2026 index. Clean air, abundant trees and low carbon emissions contribute to that ranking. So does our culture—a progressive patchwork influenced by Indigenous peoples, Asian immigrants and Nordic settlers, shaken and stirred by techies and tree-huggers.
And then there’s the outdoors which unites us all. It’s the glue, whether people linger in the city’s free Olympic Sculpture Park or summit 4,392-meter (14,410 feet) Tahoma, also known as Mount Rainier (its government name). Some days it appears almost within arm’s reach of Seattle, due to perspective, optic illusions and its steep shape, but the most glaciated peak in the contiguous US actually looms 144 kilometers (90 miles) southeast of the city.
“One of my favorite aspects is how quickly you can go from the city to feeling immersed in nature,” says Kyle LaCrosse, a lifelong Washingtonian and western deputy operations manager for Wildland Trekking by Intrepid Travel. “We have so many good places to digitally detox until you’re focused on experiences and not your phone,” he pauses and laughs. “I mean, aside from taking Instagram photos.”
“The Salish Sea, America’s second largest estuary, fills the notch of western-Washington’s ‘mitten’ shape. Seattle sits about halfway down the deep fjord of Puget Sound and cradles 13 lakes. So water babies are ridiculously spoiled for choice here.”
- Amanda Castleman, Seattle-based journalist
Our Pacific Northwest region, wedged against Canada, allows topography to set the tone. Clouds roll off the Pacific and scud over temperate rainforests, snow-gilded peaks, fir-fletched hills and abundant tidepools in cobblestoned coves. As the Beat poet and environmental activist Gary Snyder—who grew up here—once put it: “Nature is not a place to visit. It is home.”
And this is the best of ours:
Even rugged adventurers like LaCrosse exhale in south Seattle’s Kubota Garden. This 1929 park blends Northwest native plants with Japanese landscaping, a process disrupted by horticultural pioneer Fujitaro Kubota’s internment during World War II.
Seattle declared Kubota’s passion project a landmark and rescued it from developers after his 1973 death. Today, the garden attracts serenity-seekers and people practicing shinrin-yoku, the Japanese healing tradition of forest bathing. Need help slowing down? Tours encourage visitors to get grounded in nature and socially connected to amplify health and wellness.
Lauren Braden, author of 52 Ways to Nature: Washington, encourages visitors to dive into Seattle’s maritime culture and locavore lifestyle by collecting clams and oysters on the mudflats. “A tide of -0.5 or lower is ideal,” she says. But always check which beaches are open, and safe, for harvest and call to double-check before pushing off with your bucket, shovel and shellfish permit. If you don’t want to go solo, join a Forage Seattle tide to table experience where experts teach you how to harvest and your hard work is rewarded by a beachside three-course feast.
Stay especially alert for the world’s largest burrowing clams, a regional delicacy named geoducks (pronounced ‘gooey ducks’). And no, this isn’t drop-bear-style comedy gold. The slightly sweet and crunchy bivalves not only exist, but they can grow to almost four kilograms (over eight pounds) throughout their long lives—some wild geoducks even predate Seattle’s 1851 incorporation.
The Salish Sea, America’s second largest estuary, fills the notch of western-Washington’s ‘mitten’ shape. Seattle sits about halfway down the deep fjord of Puget Sound and cradles 13 lakes. So water babies are ridiculously spoiled for choice here.
Sail past stress on the taxi boat, a petite passenger-only ferry, from downtown to west Seattle for budget-friendly panoramas of the city, sea and peaks. Alki Beach draws families and friends each summer with its soft sand, shallow waters, volleyball courts and four-kilometer (2.4-mile) shoreline trail where you may encounter swaddled divers like me. You might also spot the ‘Notorious Alki Swimmers,’ often wearing only caps, shorts and bikinis, even in the snow. Join them on Saturday mornings at the Alki Beach Bathhouse, if you’re brave. Or just do a quick polar plunge, before retreating to a seaside cedar barrel sauna. Maybe even sauna on a boat.
“There’s so much adventure in western Washington. So many ways to forget about your phone and your worries. It’s awe-inspiring.”
- Kyle LaCrosse, Wildland Trekking by Intrepid Travel
Locals particularly love Seattle’s 4.5 kilometer (2.9 mile) Discovery Park Loop, a National Recreation Trail, where ferns and firs give way to wildflower-tangled meadows and extensive coastal views. But LaCrosse still “escapes to some of the world’s best backcountry terrain” on day trips any chance he can.
Follow in his footsteps on Wildland Trekking’s Camp Muir day hike, which climbs from fragile sub-alpine meadows past glaciers to Camp Muir, the basecamp for mountaineers summiting Tahoma.
Or spend a day in Olympic National Park, the thumb of the geographic mitten, where elk wander America’s only temperate rainforest. The hushed landscape—padded by moss, lichen garlands and old-growth trees—boosts wellness with biophilia and undisturbed stretches of natural noise. “Our day hike departs from Staircase Ranger Station, roughly a 2.5-hour drive from Seattle when traffic cooperates,” says LaCrosse.
“Seattle has a real underdog vibe,” says Lindy West, a scrappy local-born and -raised feminist who authored 2016’s Shrill, which Hulu later adapted into a three-season comedy. “Like, we’re up here in the corner, separate from the rest of the country, and we’re kind of dorky.”
Hence the silent reading parties. Yeah, you read that correctly. Seattle is a UNESCO City of Literature and has grown renowned for Hotel Sorrento’s biweekly gatherings where readers sip adult beverages while hitting the books. There’s a cozy fire, a pianist at the keys and plenty of armchairs. Other havens for the over-stimulated include the Central Library’s color-drenched stairwell and mesmerizing 11 storeys of steel and glass origami.
Not feeling salty? Try the freshwater of downtown’s Lake Union, a houseboat-fringed aquatic playground the size of Monaco, where bald eagles vie for airspace with seaplanes.
Rent a kayak from the Northwest Outdoor Center, then paddle north—keep an eye out for the famous Sleepless in Seattle houseboat—to check out the totemic rusted towers of Gasworks Park, a prime picnicking and kite-flying destination. While boats can’t land there, it’s worth a second trip to digitally detox in this funky greenspace, which often hosts outdoor yoga, sound baths and meditation circles.
“There’s so much adventure in western Washington,” says LaCrosse. “So many ways to forget about your phone and your worries. It’s awe-inspiring.” And I agree. That’s the lesson our home teaches: To just be—alive in all your senses without strain, humbled by the scale of the sea and mountain stone. Even in the city.
For more Seattle travel inspiration, see Visit Seattle
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Adventure.com acknowledges the complexity and challenges of travel in the context of our global climate crisis. This article is part of Adventure.com’s paid partnerships program, which enables us to continue publishing stories about a more regenerative and sustainable future of travel by helping to make out platform commercially viable. Adventure.com only partners with brands and products that align with our ethical and editorial standards, and our vision for a future of travel built around lower emissions, deeper connection and more resilient communities.
Writer and photographer Amanda Castleman grew up on a Salish Sea island, sharing her love of the Pacific Northwest as a wilderness guide. She spent eight years abroad, but the scent of cedar and saltwater signaled home more clearly than any channel buoy. She now lives in Seattle on the unceded traditional territories of the Coast Salish. Amanda has worked on over 30 books and contributes to titles like Afar, Sierra, Outside, BBC Travel, Scuba Diving and National Geographic. She also founded Write Like a Honey Badger, an online academy offering scholarships to voices underrepresented in the media.
