The surfboard wiggles like a hyperactive puppy under my feet, about to break loose and fly off the wave it rides. The air smells of sunscreen as I try to balance on the roaring wave—but I'm a solid five hours from the closest surf break on the Pacific. Here, amid Central Washington's rolling brown hills and tidy vineyards, Chelan's Lakeside Surf runs the largest stationary wave in the world. Landlocked surfing? It makes perfect sense when you consider that the town of Chelan has been stuck in blissful arrested development for years.

Lakeside Surf abuts the town's long-standing water park, Slidewaters, a family friendly collection of water slides, lazy river, and a spray park with a 150-gallon tipping bucket. The perpetual 50-foot wave opened in 2021 with a more adult vibe, thanks to its juice bar and food truck—and the more technical sport at its center. While kids are allowed on (particularly during special beginner lower-flow sessions), it's all adults taking a turn on the sunny summer day I visit.

But up there, on the wave? This is kid stuff. Not because it's easy, but because it's mostly very silly fun. Each 45-minute session on the wave can mean 10 turns or more per person, each overseen by a surf coach. After two goes on the provided surfboard, I was standing precariously for a few moments before wiping out, while experts zoomed back and forth like extras in Point Break.

Every single one of us, pros or newbies, ended our turn the same way: slipping into the churning white water behind the wave before letting the water push us to the landing behind. It's a ridiculous pursuit, a game of balance (keep your weight on your back foot!) followed by a dunking. Under Chelan's relentless sun, it's goofy but refreshing.

It's not that Chelan is frozen in time, exactly; the town has seen subtle growth over the years, new housing developments and fancier boutiques on main street. But as viewers hoot and holler at the surfers who manage to stay upright for a few more seconds each turn, this lakeside retreat shows off its eternal sense of summer vacation.

Named for the Indigenous word Tsill-ane, meaning "deep water," the south end of Lake Chelan was first settled by the Chelan Tribe, then white settlers in the late nineteenth century. The snake-like body of water stretches 50 miles, its top tucked into the North Cascades and its foot almost kissing the Columbia River. When the twentieth century rolled around, industry was king—the land was rich in timber and minerals, the water harnessed for energy—but recreation was already blossoming in Chelan.

Campbell Hotel was built at the very foot of the lake in 1901, a precursor to the Campbell's Resort that stands there today. Buildings form a horseshoe, a lake view in every guest room. Signs of the twenty-first century dot the lobby—a gender inclusive restroom, an automated self check-in machine—but out on the sandy beach that stretches a third of a mile, it might as well be 1960.

Tom Campbell walks down the shore where his great-great grandfather built the first Campbell's on a sand dune; now president of the resort, his dad is the current owner and his brother a VP. He notes that some things haven't changed much since the first generation. "This is what people want, and it's what they're always going to want. Comfortable accommodations...to be able to enjoy their families with a beautiful natural backdrop. It connects you."

Dozens of guests stretch on loungers facing the calm shore while a few drag them into the lake itself. With water temps in the mid-70s in summer, the lake is ideal for casual swimming; the only waves come from a little wind and some boat wake. Inflatable floaties line the shore and the resort hands out paddleboards, and a beach monitor notes that kids are rocking one of the floating platforms anchored in the deeper water. 

Campbell stops where a volleyball net has been set up in the shallows; a dozen men are in serious competition, all standing in their bathing suits in thigh-high water as they hit a bright pink ball back and forth. This family has been coming here for 69 years, he notes; the volleyball game ("old guys versus young guys") is for a trophy that Campbell keeps in the office in between the family's annual visit.

The founding couple of this extended crew first summered on Chelan in the 1950s and it gradually became an annual event. "They came, and then their kids came, and now their kids come," says one family member as she watches the match; the point of the trip, she says, is to do "not a whole lot." Tom Campbell calls the place a time machine. Between the happy shrieks of romping children and dozing adults along the shore, it's one part summer camp, one part Dirty Dancing.

Chelan has fewer boutique hotels and fine dining restaurants than Leavenworth or Walla Walla. Campbell admits that the town's dining scene is a tough one: "burgers, fries, pizza, pub food—comfort foods." It doesn't help that the customer base is seasonal and workers are being priced out; the area's newest developments, like the Lookout (a cottage community originally launched by the founder of Seabrook), haven't changed the character much. 

The region's biggest shift in recent years may be the popularity of wine growing and tasting around the lake, though here patio views can outshine the wine itself. But the accompanying dining hasn't quite reached sophistication either; at one winery patio, I had a cheese plate that was so uniformly bland that I feared my taste buds had fallen victim to Covid. I bought an antigen test on my way home (negative, phew), then indulged in a scoop of huckleberry at downtown's The Landing ice cream parlor. Taste buds: fully operational.

The angle of twisty Lake Chelan means the summer sun sets over the foothills of the Entiats that line its western shore. In the evening, the speedboats and jetskis mostly clear the lake, with only a few pontoons bobbing on the surface. The sounds of the 1970s classic "Delta Dawn" drift downlake, from a lakeside barbecue or maybe the speakers of someone's boat. As a teenaged Tanya Tucker croons of "days gone by," it could be just about any decade in the last half-century. The rest of us have to grow up; thankfully, Chelan never has to.