Traversing Wenas Road in a Prius
By Curt Cunningham
July 2016

Exploring the Yellowstone Trail is an enjoyable adventure filled with charming places to refuel, grab a bite, or rest for the night. However, there are stretches of this historic route where preparation is essential—a few days' worth of food, a full tank of gas, and preferably a four-wheel-drive vehicle are highly recommended. One such section is Wenas Road. Originally called Shushuskin Road before becoming part of the Yellowstone Trail in 1915, it was named after an Upper Yakama man who lived at its northern end. The road begins in Ellensburg and winds south over Ellensburg Pass to Yakima.

Shushuskin Road was built in the late 1870s as part of the Dalles-Ellensburg Stage Road, which transported people, mail, and freight along a grueling 150-mile route. The road's ruggedness was legendary, as one stagecoach driver remarked, "There is no hell in the hereafter; it lies between The Dalles and Ellensburg." In 1913, Shushuskin Road became part of the Inland Empire Highway, which saw improvements to make it passable for automobiles. Though the road was a state highway for only 13 years, it has remained in continuous use, eventually being replaced by a shorter, flatter route through the Yakima River Canyon in 1925. This was the same year the Yellowstone Trail was rerouted over Blewett Pass.

Despite its history, I had never driven the Wenas Road section of the Yellowstone Trail. The thought of traversing nearly 25 miles of dirt road, surrounded by little more than sagebrush, in our Toyota Prius was not exactly inviting. But it was one of those bucket-list drives I had to experience at least once. Today, that time had come. What could go wrong? Worst case, we could turn around or camp if things got rough. I kept these thoughts to myself, as telling my wife might have ended the trip before it began.

I recalled an early date with my wife when I took her off-roading in a four-wheel-drive vehicle. That adventure almost ended in disaster as we teetered on the edge of a cliff. If not for some timely straps, I would have lost the Jeep forever, along with any hope of a second date. This trip, though, was supposed to be a scenic drive. Or so I let her believe.

That morning, with coffee in hand, we set off for Ellensburg under a clear sky, a rare sight for March. As we left, we spotted a bald eagle catching breakfast in a nearby yard, something we had never seen before. I took it as a good omen, though I would later realize I had misread the sign—the eagle symbolized the road, and we were its prey.

Upon reaching Ellensburg, I saw Umptanum Ridge and Manastash Ridge in the distance, with no snow in sight. Wenas Road crosses Ellensburg Pass between these ridges, and I was relieved that snow wouldn't be a factor. This road lies miles from civilization, and there’s no easy way to determine if it's passable in early spring. Seeing the snow-free ridges eased my anxiety about getting over the summit.

The dirt road began about four miles south of Ellensburg. I breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing it in excellent condition—smooth, damp, and dust-free. The climb toward the plateau was uneventful. Along the way, we passed an old horse trough, a relic of the road’s past, at 6827 Umptanum Road. It remains in surprisingly good condition, though I doubt many who drive by know its history.

Once on the plateau, the vastness of the landscape unfolded. Rolling hills covered in sagebrush stretched endlessly, with only an abandoned farmhouse hinting at human presence. The isolation was striking, and it was easy to understand why no one lived here anymore.

As we drove further, my wife and I exchanged glances, both thinking this drive might be easier than expected. The road disagreed. A sign warned, "Rough road for the next 9.4 miles," and I swallowed nervously before asking, "Should we keep going or turn back?" My wife, ever the optimist, voted to continue. I reassured her it would be fine—at least, I hoped so.

The ascent toward the summit was manageable at first. The road narrowed and grew rougher, but we soon reached the pass without issue. The downhill, however, was another story. The road quickly deteriorated, and I began to worry about getting stuck. A Prius isn’t exactly built for off-roading, with its low ground clearance and lack of four-wheel drive.

It wasn’t long before we encountered our first washout. The stream that caused it had swept part of the road away during the snowmelt, leaving a tricky passage. The repairs didn’t inspire confidence—this was clearly not meant for a Prius. Nevertheless, I convinced my wife to let me try. She reluctantly agreed but got out to watch from a safe distance. Fortunately, the stream was shallow, and I managed to avoid the deep ruts, making it across without incident.

The road continued to worsen, and I began to question my decision. Yet, turning back wasn’t an option. We pressed on, navigating washout after washout, my wife walking ahead to guide me. Each new obstacle was more harrowing than the last, but somehow, we kept moving forward. I was too focused on survival to take any photos.

Finally, the road began to improve. We hadn't seen another car in hours and started to wonder when we'd reach civilization. When we spotted a few homesteads in the distance, we thought we were in the clear. Not quite. Another washout, though smaller than the previous ones, forced us to slow down again. By now, we were both wondering how much longer this would go on.

At last, we hit pavement. The relief was palpable, and the smiles on our faces said it all. We had survived Wenas Road.

It wasn’t the scenic drive I had imagined, but it was an unforgettable adventure—one that tested our patience, our Prius, and perhaps my marriage.