WARNING!!!: DO NOT GO TO GREEN BLUFF ON THE LAST NICE DAY IN OCTOBER!
In case you don’t know what Green Bluff is, I’ll explain. It is a small community in the Spokane, Washington area, populated by folks who raise produce of all kinds, which are available to the public.
It has been my habit in the fall to head out to Green Bluff to take part in my annual celebration of my favorite season and to experience the beautiful countryside with its brilliant leaves. Mainly though, I’m in search of their harvest of many kinds of squash, pumpkins, and apples. However, I must admit that my first destination amidst the village is a place that serves the best apple pie ala mode, scrumptious pumpkin doughnuts, and delicious apple cider.
Imagine my disappointment when my neighbor and I turned off the highway onto the road approaching Green Bluff to discover the traffic which immediately ingulfed us in a stream of bumper-to-bumper cars. Obviously, my brilliant idea of choosing this particular day was a mutual brain storm with nearly half of Spokane.
After our tedious journey into town, we witnessed another discouraging sight. Not only were the small shops charging for parking, there didn’t appear to be a single spot available. Even our beloved pie place had betrayed us by requiring reservations to enter. What a revolting development!
My Scottish soul rebelled against this commercialism of my formerly friendly little country oasis. So, I stubbornly kept on going through the morass of humanity.
After driving past our usual stops with their swarming masses, I finally found a possible solution. A farther out shop also sold pie and our beloved fruits and veggies. Besides which, they did not charge for parking.
Although this solution made our venture possible, this secondary location had not escaped the overflowing crowds. Our parking space was free and not far from the building for the sake of my neighbor who used a cane. It only took half an hour to stand in line for our pie, but then where would we sit? While in line, I had recognized how cozy people were while line-standing and most without masks. In my mind, I wondered if this special treat for my friend was really a curse. I suggested we don our masks, said a silent prayer and moved on.
There were a few booths selling their wares, which was a small sample of my usual shopping experience, but satisfactory, considering the wall-to-wall people. Then came the special treat of picking up our produce, which was dimmed by the sticker shock of their exorbitant prices. I understand that the farmers needed to make up for a very hot summer in addition to less customers because of Covid, but this was unbelievable. They charged fifteen dollars for a medium-sized bag of apples or $2.98 a pound. The merchant had tiny pumpkins for $1.50 and $4 for a slightly larger one. Just for old time’s sake, I bought a few samples of fall produce.
My advice for any future participants of similar places is to not to go to them on weekends. If that’s the only time available, try going early in the morning, especially on the last nice day in October. I have happy memories of my past trips to Green Bluff, which I can recall while eating my spendy squash, pumpkins, and apples. That will have to do.
