Lines and Litter and Lessons Learned
The Tulip Festival promises endless rows of perfect flowers, but reporter Sydney Vasquez’s journey was filled with long lines, lots of litter and a lot fewer tulips than you would expect.
Litter lays scattered around the rows of flowers as people nonchalantly walk past. The amount of garbage keeps piling up as more tourists arrive. // Sydney Vasquez
Story and photos by Sydney Vasquez
June 8, 2022
The month of April brings rain, sunshine and spring. In Skagit Valley, it also means tulips.
Tulip Town is filled with acres of bright flowers that create a vibrant backdrop for people snapping selfies or posing for family photos. On the other side of these picturesque photos, lives another world filled with long lines, limited bathrooms and overcrowded parking lots.
The tulips bloom in Roozengaarde, each flower is covered in bright colors that attract visitors from all over the world. // Sydney Vasquez
Every year, the Tulip Festival draws in roughly 300,000 visitors.
As a photographer and nature-lover, I wanted to see if the Tulip Festival lived up to the hype. On a sunny April weekend, I plugged “Skagit Valley Tulip Festival” into my GPS and began the drive from Bellingham. When I arrived in Mount Vernon, tulips were nowhere to be found. Instead of bringing me to the fields, the GPS brought me to the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival’s main downtown office.
The number of cars crowding the roads was staggering. A chorus of blinking turn signals filled the streets as people inched their way through traffic light after traffic light trying to reach the freeway.
Lines of cars idle on a single-lane road for half an hour. Tourists sit and wait for traffic controls to allow them to park. // Sydney Vasquez
The GPS tacked on another 15 minutes to my drive and I started toward what I hoped were the actual fields. Routing to “Tulip Town” brought me to a long single-lane road in Skagit County congested with, you guessed it, more cars. Traffic patrols stood at nearly every corner trying to turn the hectic herd of vehicles into a well-choreographed dance.
After 20 minutes of sitting in line, I made it to my destination – or so I thought.
I asked an employee about the conditions of the fields. She said Tulip Town lost most of their crops due to November flooding and encouraged me to travel to Roozengaarde, another tulip farm a few miles away because they had lost less of their crops.
So, I ditched Tulip Town in favor of tulipier pastures.
A quick Google search of Roozengaarde revealed it was a short three kilometers away. As my eyes moved down the page, my enthusiasm dropped. “Estimated time: 30 minutes,” Google announced.
Only the Tulip Festival could make a Washingtonian wish away the sun; I was sweating in my car as I inched down another single-lane road for an hour. By this point, the promise of endless fields of vibrant tulips was not as enticing as it had been. However, I had made it this far, so I had to see it through to the end; I couldn’t let the tulips win.
After parking in another crowded field, paying a $15 fee and waiting 10 more minutes, I made it in. Finally!
Swarms of families enter a long line to enter the festival. As more visitors come, the wait times stretch longer and longer. // Sydney Vasquez
My surroundings were filled with more mud and dust than tulips. Litter was scattered about; water bottles, popcorn bags and napkins seemed to outnumber the flowers. I took it upon myself to pick some pieces up and throw them away. What surprised me was that nobody seemed to care about the messes being created despite their desire to get a flawless photo. Maybe it’s just me, but crumpled-up napkins aren’t my favorite piece of scenery.
Most people weren’t paying attention to their surroundings. Signs stating, “Please do not walk in between the rows” were regularly ignored as people bustled by in their pursuit of the perfect Instagram photo.
Signs not permitting off-road trails posted throughout Roozengaarde doesn't stop tourists from walking between rows. Woman inches her way between tulips to get the perfect photo. // Sydney Vasquez
Walking through the festival, I couldn’t help but think about the environmental impacts. Floods of tourists swarm into this small town, and with them comes pollution, whether it’s sitting in idling cars or leaving behind litter. I roamed around for about 10 minutes before getting overstimulated by the number of people.
My ideal Friday is not spending hours in my car fighting traffic only to pay $15 for 10 minutes of tulip viewing.
In my search for an exit, I spotted a small family farm filled with chickens, alpacas and cows. Any spot devoid of lines of cars, swarms of people and the occasional tulip was a welcome sight. I spent about 20 minutes petting the cows - definitely more time than I spent looking at tulips. Even better, it was free.
Roozengaarde after the month-long tulip festival ends. The bright flowers have been chopped and green pastures remain after the chaos dies down. // Sydney Vasquez
By the end, I was tired, sweaty and dreading the drive back. I don’t think you’d see me at the Tulip Festival again… unless it was for the cows.
Sydney Vasquez returning to the Tulip Fields in Skagit County. Tulip heads have been chopped off and await next season's traffic mania. // Sydney Vasquez
Sydney Evelyn Vasquez is an environmental studies major at Western Washington University with an admiration for helping the planet thrive.