Rasar State Park: Family Roots at the Gateway to the Cascades

Every place featured in The Unbreakable Anchor carries a specific emotional weight and purpose. From the crystal, glacier-fed waters of Lake Wenatchee to the raw, ocean-pounded headlands of Cape Disappointment, where grief and clarity collide, each landscape holds a piece of our story. Then there are the moss-covered trees of Rasar State Park. Their towering presence reaches endlessly into the sky. In the grand scheme of our family travels, it is a newer park, but it quickly became an essential gathering place for all of us.

Rasar sits just downriver from the town of Concrete, a place Supernatural fans will instantly recognize, but one that holds a fascinating, gritty history all its own. Long before it shared a unified name, the area was ground zero for two fierce industrial rivals. The Washington Portland Cement Company set up shop on one side of the river, building its own company town dubbed "Cement City." Just three years later, the Superior Portland Cement Company moved in directly across the water. The early town hall meetings must have been an absolute battlefield. Eventually, Cement City merged with the original townsite of Baker to officially become Concrete.

Concrete’s historic cement silos, a reminder of the town’s industrial roots. Photo: Joe Mabel, CC BY-SA 3.0

From there, the town grew into an industrial powerhouse, supplying concrete for the monumental builds of the Great Northern Railroad and serving as a critical supplier during World War II. Today, Concrete stands as that true "last gasp" of civilization before you leave town limits behind and venture deep into the North Cascades Highway, one of the most breathtaking alpine drives in the entire country.

We only discovered Rasar a few years ago, although in an odd twist, this wasn't the first time my family had found its way to this part of the Skagit Valley. My grandmother had her own story here decades before any of us began camping along the river. As a child, I visited my great-uncle's farm up here on a road that is now named for his family, but that belongs to another story that will be told in The Sunstone Path.

Welcome to Rasar State Park, tucked into the forests of the Skagit River Valley.

The land Rasar sits on was donated to the state of Washington by the Rasar family. It sits just an hour from our house, making it the easiest escape for a quick weekend getaway. Because of its expansive group campsite, it rapidly transformed into the go-to basecamp for our entire extended family. Having Birdsview Brewing Company five minutes away helped bring the crowd, too.

The air here is always cool, damp, and richly seasoned with the scent of cedar. Anyone from Washington instantly recognizes that smell. Giant Douglas firs and bigleaf maples tower overhead, draped in thick curtains of emerald moss that muffle the noise of the modern world. It is a place built for gathering, from quiet trailer weekends with the dogs to milestone family celebrations beneath the massive timber picnic shelter. My boys learned to ride their bikes here, circling the campground loops on a mission to make Mom run after them.

 Following the trail beneath Rasar’s towering, moss-covered trees, where even a simple family walk became part of the memories.

The park has numerous hiking trails scattered throughout, but the main Skagit River Trail winds beneath the deep canopy, the dirt trail offering intermittent glimpses of rushing water before reaching a white sand spit that contrasts against the turquoise water. From there, the forest trail continues along the bank of the river, eventually opening into sweeping fields of tall grass. It passes an old red barn and a fence line where llamas graze peacefully. As you loop your way back to the campground, the sun starts getting filtered out by the tall trees, creating a canopy of shade where you'll find blackberry bushes lining the way. These walks were a tradition for our family, often accompanied by dogs—sometimes a lot of them—and were always an invitation for the impromptu tossing of a football from uncles to nephews for the entire length of the path.

When you finish the loop, you end up in the day-use area where the campground restrooms sit. Outside, massive river boulders are fitted with sturdy tie-down rings so four-legged campers can wait safely while their humans step inside. It is a practical quirk our senior pugs have made full use of over the years, affectionately known as the "Dog Parking Rocks."

At the end of the day, after all the activity, it was home to a crackling fire, a warm drink in your hand, and the laughter of campfire stories. If you're lucky, you can even catch the northern lights dancing across the sky, turning shades of purple and turquoise and illuminating the entire campground. But nothing is better than fall, when nature puts on a stunning display of color.

Fall at Rasar, when a family walk through the campground comes with dogs, bikes, and sunlight pouring through the trees.

Rasar also became our anchor for endless day trips along Highway 20. Pushing farther east, the foothills give way, the canyon walls tighten, and the road leads into Newhalem, the historic Seattle City Light company town tucked right into the sheer rock floor. With its historic power generators, vintage locomotives, and manicured company lawns hemmed in by towering wilderness, Newhalem feels suspended in time.

Carving Highway 20 through these unforgiving granite passes took decades of sheer human grit, and the communities along the line understood the value of holding steady through the wilderness. The North Cascades Highway is closed for the winter due to heavy snowpack. For years, the highway's spring reopening was marked by Tootsie Clark, the legendary "Cinnamon Roll Lady" of Marblemount, standing faithfully along the roadside to hand-deliver cinnamon rolls to the very first drivers crossing the pass. That neighborly warmth in the middle of a rugged alpine wilderness captures the exact spirit of this corridor. Sadly, she passed away in 2017, but her legacy lives on as her family has continued the tradition.

The views as you make your way up the pass are unbelievable, but the showstopper of the drive is Diablo Lake. The electric-turquoise water of Diablo Lake slaps you in the face as you round the curves of the highway, contrasting against the surrounding stone cliffs and pine forests. Colored by fine glacial silt ground down by active ice fields high above, the water looks almost painted into the canyon stone. Standing at the overlook with the crisp mountain wind coming down off the ridges, the true scale of the Pacific Northwest wilderness settles in around you.

Diablo Lake, where Highway 20 delivers one of its biggest showstoppers: brilliant turquoise water surrounded by the rugged North Cascades.

The highway eventually summits Washington Pass and drops into the dry pine country of the

Methow Valley, but for our story, the heart of this journey stays right here: in the quiet timber of Rasar, the small-town grit of the valley, and the high turquoise water that marks the true gateway to the mountains.

In The Unbreakable Anchor, Rasar is home to so many of our shared memories, including the unforgettable afternoon when we almost ended up in the rushing current of the Skagit River.

Almost.

...But that's a story for the book.

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