Drive out toward Connell, Washington, and you’ll see it. It’s sitting there in the middle of the Franklin County high desert, a massive sprawl of concrete and high-fencing that feels totally at odds with the surrounding scrubland. This is Coyote Ridge Correctional Facility. People call it CRCC for short. It’s huge. Honestly, it’s one of the largest prisons in the state, and if you’re looking at it from a distance, it looks like a small, strangely quiet city.
But it isn’t just another warehouse for people.
While most folks think of prisons as these static, unchanging blocks of misery, Coyote Ridge is actually a pretty complex ecosystem. It’s got a specific reputation in the Washington Department of Corrections (DOC) system. It’s known for being the "sustainable" prison, but also for being a place where the medium-security and minimum-security populations live in very different worlds. If you’ve got a family member headed there, or you’re just tracking how Washington spends its public safety budget, you need the ground-level view. No fluff. Just how it works.
Breaking Down the Security Levels at Coyote Ridge
A lot of people get confused about who actually stays here. Coyote Ridge Correctional Facility isn't a maximum-security "supermax" like some of the older, darker facilities you see in movies. It’s split. You have a large medium-security unit and a smaller minimum-security camp. This matters because the rules, the freedom of movement, and the day-to-day stress levels are night and day between the two sides.
The medium-security side is the heavyweight. It’s designed to hold roughly 2,000 men. It’s high-tech, too. When it was expanded around 2008, it was built with this "hybrid" design that was supposed to make it easier to manage large groups of people with fewer staff members. Think long sightlines and lots of cameras.
The minimum-security unit, often called the "camp," is where things are a bit more relaxed—comparatively speaking. The guys there are usually nearing the end of their sentences. They’re the ones working on the crews you might see out on the roads or doing the "green" jobs that have made the facility famous in environmental circles.
Wait, why does a prison care about the environment?
The LEED Gold Standard and the Sagebrush Project
This is the part that usually surprises people. Coyote Ridge was the first prison in the entire United States to receive a LEED Gold rating from the U.S. Green Building Council. That’s a big deal. It means the actual buildings were designed to be incredibly efficient with water and electricity. They use natural light. They have systems to capture heat.
But the "green" reputation goes way deeper than the architecture.
Ever heard of the Sagebrush Project? It’s a partnership between the DOC and the Sustainability in Prisons Project (SPP). Incarcerated men at Coyote Ridge spend their days growing thousands of sagebrush plants from seed. Why? To save the Greater Sage-grouse. The habitat for these birds has been getting torched by wildfires across the West, and the guys at CRCC are basically running a massive nursery to help restore the landscape.
It’s weirdly poetic. You have men who are literally fenced in, spending their time growing plants that will eventually be used to give wild animals more room to roam.
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It’s not just for the birds, though.
Research from the Evergreen State College has shown that these types of programs—working with living things, contributing to a biological goal—actually lower violence within the walls. It gives people a purpose that isn’t just "surviving the day." It’s a far cry from the old-school "breaking rocks" stereotype of prison labor.
The Daily Grind: Jobs, Food, and Keeping Busy
If you aren't growing sagebrush, what are you doing?
Most guys are working. Coyote Ridge houses a massive branch of Correctional Industries (CI). This is basically a state-run business where incarcerated people manufacture goods. At CRCC, they have a huge textile shop. They make mattresses. They make clothing. They even have a laundry facility that processes millions of pounds of linens for other institutions and local hospitals.
It's hard work. It pays pennies an hour.
You’ve gotta understand the economics here. While the pay is tiny, these jobs are highly coveted. Why? Because the alternative is sitting in a cell or a dayroom all day. A CI job gets you out of the unit. It gives you a routine. It also gives you a tiny bit of money to spend at the commissary on things like decent coffee, thermal underwear, or radio batteries.
Food is another story. Like most Washington prisons, the food at Coyote Ridge is... functional. It’s managed by Central Kitchen, which means a lot of it is pre-cooked and then "rethermed" or heated up on-site. You aren't getting five-star meals. You’re getting calculated calories.
Health Care and the Aging Population
Here is a reality check that nobody likes to talk about: prisons are becoming nursing homes.
Coyote Ridge is no exception. As sentencing laws from the 90s have played out, the population inside is getting older. You’ve got men in their 60s and 70s with heart disease, diabetes, and mobility issues. The facility has a medical unit, but it’s often stretched thin.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, Coyote Ridge was hit hard. It was a mess. At one point, hundreds of men were testing positive, and the facility had to go into various stages of "restricted movement," which is basically a polite way of saying lockdown. This meant no visits, no classes, and limited showers. It’s a reminder that when something goes wrong in a place like this, it goes wrong fast because people are living on top of each other.
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The medical staff handles everything from routine check-ups to chronic care. However, if something really serious happens—like a major heart attack—that person is going to be transported to a hospital in Pasco or Richland.
Visitation: The Lifeline
If you’re planning on visiting someone at Coyote Ridge, prepare for a process. It isn't as simple as just showing up. You have to be on an approved visitor list, which involves a background check.
The visiting room is a strange place. It’s one of the few areas where the "inside" and "outside" worlds touch. There are vending machines, a small play area for kids, and lots of rules about what you can wear and how you can sit. No hoodies. No wire-rimmed bras. No denim on denim.
Why the strict rules? Contraband.
Even in a desert prison with high-tech sensors, stuff gets in. Drugs, cell phones, you name it. Most of the security measures—the pat-downs, the metal detectors, the Ion scanners—are aimed at stopping the flow of "substances" into the facility. It makes the visiting process feel clinical and a bit degrading for families, but from the DOC’s perspective, it’s about keeping the "peace."
The Challenges: Staffing and Safety
It isn't all sagebrush and LEED buildings. Coyote Ridge has real problems.
The biggest one? Staffing.
Connell is a small town. It’s about 30 miles north of the Tri-Cities. Finding enough people to work as Correctional Officers (COs) in a remote area is a constant struggle for the DOC. When they are short-staffed, it affects everything. Programs get canceled. Tensions rise.
Safety is a moving target. While CRCC is generally considered "safer" than the maximum-security units at Walla Walla (Washington State Penitentiary), violence still happens. There are "infractions." There are fights. Most of the time, the violence is localized—disputes over debts, or "politics" between different groups.
The staff-to-incarcerated ratio is a delicate balance. If the COs feel outnumbered and overworked, they tend to be more rigid. If the incarcerated population feels they are being treated unfairly or that their basic needs aren't being met, the "vibe" of the prison shifts toward the dangerous.
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Educational Opportunities and the "Second Chance"
One of the better things about Coyote Ridge is the access to education.
Walla Walla Community College operates programs inside the walls. Guys can earn their GED, but they can also get vocational certificates in things like HVAC, welding, or automotive repair. This is huge.
The data on this is incredibly clear: people who get an education while incarcerated are significantly less likely to come back. It’s the difference between someone leaving with a set of skills and someone leaving with $40 and a bus ticket.
The facility also has a library. It’s not just for reading novels; it’s a legal resource. Men spend hours there researching their cases, looking for ways to appeal or simply trying to understand the laws that landed them there in the first place.
What Most People Get Wrong About CRCC
The biggest misconception is that it’s a "country club" because it’s "green" and has a community college.
Let's be real. It’s a prison.
The air conditioning might work better because it’s a LEED building, but you’re still counting down the seconds until a door unlocks. You’re still living in a space that smells like floor wax and industrial cooking. You’re still away from your kids, your parents, and your life.
The "sustainability" aspect of Coyote Ridge is a management tool as much as an environmental one. It saves the state money on utility bills and it gives the population something to do. It’s smart policy, but it doesn't change the fundamental nature of the institution.
Actionable Steps for Families and Advocates
If you are dealing with the system right now, don't just wing it. Here is what you actually need to do:
- Master the JPay System: This is how you send money and emails. Learn the fee schedules because they add up. Emails are faster than snail mail, but they are still monitored.
- Check the Visit Status Daily: Before you drive two hours into the desert, check the DOC website. If there is a "restricted movement" order or a facility-wide lockdown, they will turn you away at the gate.
- Get Involved with the Local Family Council: Coyote Ridge has a Local Family Council (LFC). This is a group of family members who meet with prison leadership to discuss issues like food quality, medical care, and visiting room conditions. It’s one of the few ways to actually get your voice heard by the people in charge.
- Use the OCO: If you encounter a serious issue—like medical neglect or safety concerns—contact the Office of the Corrections Ombuds (OCO). They are an independent agency that investigates complaints within the Washington DOC.
- Watch the Transfers: Men are moved between facilities often. Keep an eye on the "Offender Search" tool on the DOC website to make sure your loved one hasn't been moved to another facility like Airway Heights or Monroe without notice.
Coyote Ridge is a massive, complex machine. It’s a mix of environmental innovation and the harsh reality of the American justice system. Whether it’s "working" depends entirely on who you ask—the state accountant, the environmentalist, or the man sitting in a cell in the Franklin County desert.
To stay updated on policy changes or specific facility incidents, you should regularly monitor the Washington Department of Corrections "Facility Alerts" page. This is the most reliable way to track lockdowns or unexpected closures that could affect communication or visitation. Additionally, joining online support groups for families of those incarcerated in Washington can provide real-time "boots on the ground" information that doesn't always make it into the official bulletins.