Plain, WA

An interesting event occurred earlier this summer. I had just spent the day with two of my friends and all their friends rafting the Wenatchee. The day was hot, the water cold, and the waves...well they could have been bigger. Honestly, us Coloradans need serious whitewater to get our adrenaline pumping. None the less a fantastic way to spend the weekend. After the conclusion of the trip and the all too familiar trip back to your car in a rehabilitated school bus, we adjourned to a fantastic beer haus in Leavenworth. After a delectable liquid dinner, we headed out of town, eyes enthusiastically consuming the views. Knowing we are running low on gas we stop at a gas station. But thanks to our current fuel conundrum, No Gas. No Gas at a Gas Station, what is this the 70's. So our choices are twofold. Travel four miles out of our way to the next closest gas station or try and push it twenty miles to the next town en route. Taking the conservative approach, which I verbally objected to, we head to the nearer station. Four miles later we are in Plain, WA. A beautiful little town with no gas. Deciding we are shit out of luck to make it to the other town, we opt to turn around and head back to Leavenworth for fuel. So here we are three woman and myself coasting through the mountainous backcountry of Washington in search of gas. So desperate are we that we pass a car in neutral. We must conserve every drop. Passing a car in neutral is surprisingly rewarding. I highly recommend it. In short, an hour after leaving Leavenworth we return to get gas, nowhere closer to home, but intimately familiar with Plain.