You Won’t Believe These Abandoned Amusement Parks in Washington Still Exist

Washington is full of natural beauty, but tucked away behind forests and highways are reminders of another kind of escape: amusement parks that once drew families on weekends and summer breaks. I’ve spent time tracking down a few of them, and walking through what’s left is both fascinating and eerie.

They’re not polished attractions anymore, but pieces of history sitting quietly, often overlooked. Here are some of the most striking abandoned parks still lingering in the state.

1. Enchanted Village (Federal Way)

The first time I visited the remains of Enchanted Village, I felt like I’d stumbled into a forgotten chapter of a childhood story. This park, which started out in the 1970s, originally welcomed families with gentle rides and fairytale cottages tucked under the shade of Douglas firs. The place wasn’t huge, but the sense of magic hung in the air, especially for little kids clutching cotton candy.

When Wild Waves took over, many of the original Enchanted Village features disappeared. If you walk the fringe areas today, though, you’ll spot old signage peeking through moss and a handful of quirky structures hiding behind newer attractions. Locals sometimes reminisce about the hand-painted murals and the distinct sound of laughter echoing through the trees.

There’s something bittersweet about the transition. What’s left stands as a quiet reminder that fun doesn’t always need to be loud or flashy. I always pause to imagine the hundreds of ordinary weekends made special here, and I wonder how many families still remember those simpler days.

2. White City (Bellingham, Washington)

Tucked along the shores of Lake Whatcom, White City was Bellingham’s answer to early 20th-century amusement fever. Opened in 1906, the park earned its name from the string of bright electric lights that outlined its rides and buildings, creating a glowing landmark visible across the water.

Families arrived by trolley to spend the day on the wooden roller coaster, wandering through the dance pavilion, or cooling off in the lake after a spin on the merry-go-round. There were picnic grounds, a hotel, and plenty of simple treats like ice cream and soda fountains.

For a little while, it was the city’s summer escape, a place where music mixed with the crash of coaster wheels. By 1919, shifting tastes and the high costs of upkeep led to its closure. Today, the park is long gone, but its memory lingers in photos, postcards, and the stories passed down through local history.

3. Fun Forest (Seattle Center)

Walking through Seattle Center, it’s easy to miss the playful chaos that once defined Fun Forest. For decades, this spot sat right beneath the Space Needle, mixing carnival rides with arcade games in a jumble of neon lights and laughter. As a kid, I remember being captivated by the spinning rides and the challenge of winning a stuffed animal.

When the park was dismantled in 2011, most of its charm disappeared overnight. Still, if you know where to look, there are subtle markers that hint at its past life, a plaque here, an art piece there, and sometimes an odd leftover ride part. The transformation feels surreal, especially when you compare old photos to today’s sleek landscaping.

Every so often, I pause and let my mind wander back to when the area buzzed with youthful energy. The Space Needle remains, but the echoes of Fun Forest’s joyful chaos persist quietly, woven into the city’s evolving story. It’s a reminder that even in the heart of a bustling city, nostalgia finds its own hiding places.

4. Longacres Amusement Park (Renton)

If you ask longtime Renton residents about Longacres, their eyes often light up with stories of the old racetrack and the sights and sounds that once filled the air. While the racing is what most remember, for a time, the grounds also hosted a carnival-like amusement park that added bright lights and laughter to the scene. Horse racing fans mixed with families looking for a weekend escape, creating a lively blend of excitement.

Today, sleek office buildings fill the landscape, and immaculate green spaces mask nearly all hints of its amusement past. Sometimes, you might notice a patch of pavement or a quirky tree that doesn’t quite fit the new surroundings. Those are the only real clues left to the area’s double life.

It’s a jarring contrast, standing on ground that once echoed with cheers and carousel music, you now hear nothing but the hum of computers inside glass towers. But if you listen closely, you can sense the layers of history beneath your feet, quietly resisting complete erasure by time and progress.

5. Playland (Seattle, Bitter Lake)

Imagine a lakeshore buzzing with excitement, where Playland once stood proudly along Bitter Lake in Seattle. Known for its ‘Dipper’ roller coaster and dance pavilion, Playland opened in 1930 and became the weekend playground for thousands. This was the spot where kids first dared to ride the coaster and families gathered for summer concerts by the water.

Over time, the sounds of music and laughter gave way to the quiet hum of residential neighborhoods. By the 1960s, the park was gone, replaced by homes and apartments. But if you stroll near the lake today, you can still make out the faint lines of old footpaths, and locals sometimes point out where the ticket booth once stood.

Playland’s story is one of transformation rather than disappearance. I’ve heard more than one neighbor mention a grandparent who worked the midway or played in the dance hall band. For me, those anecdotes keep the spirit of Playland alive, even if only in shared stories and faint shadows along the shore.

6. Natatorium Park (Spokane)

Natatorium Park always struck me as a place built for all seasons, with its heated saltwater pool, rides, and shaded picnic spots. Located in Spokane, this park drew crowds from across eastern Washington, offering a rare blend of relaxation and thrill. For decades, it acted as the social heart of the city, especially on sunny weekends.

After closing in 1967, most of the structures faded into the background or were removed altogether. The site now serves as a trailer park, but bits of foundation and the outline of the pool remain if you know where to look. Some locals even recall the smell of chlorine and popcorn that used to float on the breeze.

Natatorium’s charm comes from its ability to persist in memory, even when the landscape changes completely. I always find it striking how a place once full of laughter and splashes can sit so quietly now, its history tucked away just beneath the surface of everyday life in Spokane.