If you’re driving across the high desert of Central Washington, specifically along the I-90 corridor, you’ll eventually hit a spot where the sagebrush gives way to a town that sounds like a geography error. George Washington. No, not the man. The town. It sits right in Grant County, perched on a plateau above the Columbia River. People usually laugh when they see the signs. They think it’s a gimmick.
It kind of is. But honestly, it’s also a real place where people live, work, and grow some of the best produce in the Pacific Northwest.
George Washington, Washington, is the only town in America named after the first president’s full name. It wasn’t an accident. Back in 1957, a guy named Charlie Brown—yes, really—decided to plat a townsite right as the Bureau of Reclamation was bringing water to the Columbia Basin. He had a sense of humor and a knack for marketing. He figured if he named the place George, the full address would be George, Washington. It worked. It’s one of the few places in the world where the mailing address looks like a typo that someone forgot to fix.
The town is small. Really small. We’re talking a population that hovers around 500 to 600 people depending on the year and the census count. But don't let the size fool you into thinking it's just a gas station and a dream.
The Weird History of Charlie Brown’s Desert Vision
Charlie Brown wasn't just some eccentric with a map. He was a developer who saw potential in the dusty scablands of the Quincy Basin. Before the Grand Coulee Dam and the subsequent irrigation projects, this area was brutal. It was dry. It was windy. It was basically a moonscape. When the water started flowing through the canals of the Columbia Basin Project, the land transformed.
Brown saw an opportunity to create a community for the farmers who were flocking to the region. He laid out the streets in a grid and gave them names that leaned hard into the theme. You’ve got Cherry Street. You’ve got Lincoln Avenue. He wanted the town to be a landmark.
He even tried to get the town to be the site of a massive monument. That didn't quite happen, but the town did become a quirky staple of Washington state travel. If you visit today, the "Georgette" monument—a small bust of the president—stands as a quiet nod to the man who started it all. It’s not Rushmore. It’s barely a roadside attraction. But it’s theirs.
Why People Actually Stop in George Washington
Most folks end up in George because they’re headed to The Gorge Amphitheatre. That’s the massive, world-famous concert venue located about 10 miles down the road in George's backyard. When Dave Matthews Band or Tame Impala plays, the population of the area swells from a few hundred to 20,000 overnight.
The town itself becomes a staging ground.
The local gas stations and the Martha Inn (a local staple for years) see more foot traffic in a weekend than they might in a month of winter. But there’s a disconnect. Most concert-goers see the "George, WA" exit, grab a bag of ice, and keep moving. They miss the fact that this is one of the most productive agricultural zones in the country.
The soil here is volcanic. It’s rich. When you add water, things explode.
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- Apples: You’ll see orchards for miles.
- Cherries: These are world-class exports.
- Potatoes: Grant County is a powerhouse for the spuds that end up in your fast-food fries.
- Wine Grapes: The Ancient Lakes AVA is nearby, producing crisp Rieslings that win awards globally.
Living in George means living with the seasons. In the spring, the air smells like blossoms. In the summer, it’s baking heat—frequently over 100 degrees. By fall, the dust from the harvest hangs in the air like a golden curtain. It’s a blue-collar, dirt-under-the-fingernails kind of place.
The Giant Cherry Pie Tradition
You can't talk about George Washington without talking about the pie. Every July 4th, the town celebrates its namesake with a festival. The centerpiece? A giant cherry pie.
For decades, the town claimed the record for the world's largest cherry pie. They used to bake it in a massive, custom-made tin that was several feet across. They’d use hundreds of pounds of local cherries. It wasn't just a snack; it was a community ritual. People would line up for a square of the stuff, usually served with a dollop of melting ice cream in the summer heat.
The original "World's Largest" title has been contested over the years by other towns, but in the hearts of Grant County residents, George owns the crown. The pie tin is actually still there, sitting near the community hall as a sort of rusted trophy of small-town ambition. It’s a bit weathered now. It looks like a UFO that gave up and decided to stay in the desert.
The Reality of Living in a Pun
What’s it actually like to live in a town that’s a joke to everyone else? Honestly, it’s quiet.
If you live in George, you probably work in agriculture or for the school district. Most of the kids go to school in nearby Quincy. There’s a sense of rugged independence. You’re an hour from Ellensburg and about 45 minutes from Moses Lake. You’re isolated, but in a way that feels intentional.
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The town doesn't have a stoplight. It doesn't have a grocery store—unless you count the convenience store at the gas station. If you need a gallon of milk and a pair of jeans, you’re driving.
But the views? They’re insane.
To the west, you have the Frenchman Hills and the jagged drop-off into the Columbia River gorge. The sunsets here aren't subtle. They turn the sky deep shades of purple and orange because of the dust in the atmosphere. It’s a photographer's dream, even if the town itself looks a bit dusty and worn down at the heels.
Geopolitical Oddities and Naming Rights
There’s often confusion between George and the actual state of Washington or the District of Columbia.
If you tell someone you’re from George, Washington, they assume you’re being redundant. "Yes, I know George Washington is in Washington," they'll say. No. The town is George. It’s a linguistic nightmare for shipping addresses. Local lore says that the post office used to get letters addressed to the President here, decades after he was dead, just because people were confused.
Interestingly, George isn't the only "presidential" town in the area, but it’s the only one that went for the full name. It shows a certain level of audacity. It’s a town built on the idea that a funny name could put a speck on the map. And it did.
Agriculture: The Secret Engine
While the name gets the clicks, the agriculture keeps the lights on. The Quincy Basin, where George sits, is part of a massive irrigation network.
The water comes from the Grand Coulee Dam, travels through a series of canals and siphons, and eventually hits the pivot circles you see from the air. This isn't "natural" farming. It’s a high-tech, engineered landscape. Farmers here use GPS-guided tractors and moisture sensors to manage crops in a place that only gets about 8 inches of rain a year.
If the water ever stopped flowing, George would turn back into a sagebrush desert in about three seasons. That vulnerability creates a tight-knit culture. Everyone knows the value of the "ditch."
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Common Misconceptions About George, WA
People get a lot wrong about this place. Here are a few things to keep straight:
- It’s not a tourist trap. Aside from the July 4th festival, George doesn't really try to sell itself. There are no "George Washington" theme parks. No actors in powdered wigs walking the streets. It’s a working town.
- It’s not "near" Seattle. It’s about 150 miles east. That’s a three-hour drive across the Cascade Mountains. It’s a completely different climate and culture.
- The Gorge isn't in town. If you’re walking from the center of George to the concert venue, bring water and good shoes. It’s a long, hot trek through fields. Most people camp at the venue or stay in hotels in Quincy or Moses Lake.
- It’s not just a pit stop. While it feels like a place you just pass through, the families here go back generations. There’s a deep history of "pioneering" the basin that locals take very seriously.
How to Visit (The Right Way)
If you find yourself curious enough to take the exit, don't just hit the gas station.
Drive through the residential streets. Look at the names. Find the Georgette bust. If it's summer, look for roadside stands selling cherries or peaches. The fruit you get here was likely picked that morning. It’ll ruin grocery store fruit for you forever.
If you’re there during the Fourth of July, absolutely stay for the pie. It’s a slice of Americana that feels authentic because it’s so unpolished. There’s no corporate sponsorship. There’s no "activation." It’s just people in a park eating pie because that’s what they’ve always done.
Stop by the local park. It’s surprisingly green for being in the middle of a desert, thanks again to that irrigation water. It’s a good spot to stretch your legs and realize that while the town's name is a gimmick, the community is anything but.
Actionable Steps for Your Trip to George Washington
If you are planning a visit or just passing through, here is how to make the most of it:
- Check the Concert Schedule: If you want peace and quiet, avoid George on weekends when The Gorge Amphitheatre has a show. The traffic on I-90 can back up for miles.
- Source Local Produce: Visit in late June for cherries or August for the best peaches and nectarines. Look for small, unbranded stands along Highway 281.
- Photography Timing: Arrive at the "George Washington" town sign during the "Golden Hour" (the hour before sunset). The light hitting the basalt cliffs in the distance is spectacular.
- Fuel Up: George is one of the last reliable stops before a long stretch of highway heading east toward Moses Lake or west toward Ellensburg.
- Respect the Farms: Most of the land surrounding the town is private property. Stay on the roads and don't wander into the orchards; those are people's livelihoods.
George Washington, Washington, remains a quintessential piece of Pacific Northwest quirk. It’s a reminder that with a little bit of water and a bold name, you can build a life anywhere—even in the middle of a dusty scabland.