YAKIMA — Noble Stoneman had overcome a traumatic head injury during childhood to recently graduate from Washington State University with a degree in electrical engineering, and had a job lined up in Montana.
But the 25-year-old Naches Valley High School alum’s plans came to a tragic end earlier this month when he fell from a cliff at Palouse Falls and was swept over the 198-foot-high torrent.
Now, his mother, Ruth Drollinger of Naches, wants the state to close the park until it can figure out how to prevent anyone else from dying on the cliffs or in the pool at the base of the falls.
“I call that place a death trap,” Drollinger said, noting her son is the fourth person to die there in the past two years. “It seduces people into going near the edge of the cliffs or into the water.”
But a state park official and an outdoorsman say only so much can be done to make the outdoors safe, and people need to be more aware of the risks — and their limitations — when they go outside.
The mother of another man killed at the falls wants to see changes made, but with the goal of educating people on the risks of climbing the steep cliffs, rather than trying to heavily restrict access to the falls.
Taller than Niagara Falls
Located about 50 miles northeast of Kennewick, Palouse Falls and the canyon that connects the Palouse River to the Snake River was blasted out more than 10,000 years ago by Ice-Age floods. At Palouse Falls, the river drops over an almost 200-foot-tall basalt cliff — taller than Niagara Falls — into a bowl carved out by the force of the water hitting the canyon floor before it flows down to the Snake River.
Its natural beauty long attracted hikers and others, but it gained popularity in 2014 when the Legislature voted to designate the falls as the state’s official waterfall.
That designation turned the remote state park into a tourist destination that attracted 200,000 visitors in 2017, compared to about 80,000 prior to the 2014 designation, said Virginia Painter, Washington State Parks and Recreation Commission spokeswoman.
More visitors has meant more people heading out to get an even closer look at the falls. While there are official trails to three viewpoints offering different perspectives on the falls, there is also a network of unauthorized trails carved out by the footsteps of people who hike out to the cliffs above the falls or down to the pool at the base of the falls — areas that are officially out of bounds at the park.
“Some (of the trails) go across steep angles on the downhill side, on loose rock, scree and shale,” Painter said. “Even an experienced hiker can slip on it (and fall).”
State parks employees are discouraged from going on the more dangerous trails, Painter said.
But the allure of the falls attracts inexperienced people, some looking for the ultimate selfie to post online, a better look at the falls or to take a dip in the pool at the base of the falls. Painter said there have been people hiking out to the falls in flip-flops with children in their arms.
Since 2016, four people have died there, and 17 injured badly enough to require helicopter rescue.
In May 2016, James Hopkins, 22, of Lake Stevens drowned when the currents near the base of the falls sucked him underwater while he swam with friends.
On Memorial Day 2017, Cade Prophet, 25, of Spokane fell into the river upstream of the falls while hiking on a cliff 120 feet above the river.
Isaac Engell, 23, of Colville drowned swimming in the water beneath the falls on April 21.
On May 10, days after he had graduated from Washington State University, Stoneman was on the cliffs above the falls. A picture taken by a friend shows Stoneman sitting on a cliff near the falls.
Drollinger said he fell from the cliff and went over the falls. His body was recovered four days later at the base of the falls by rescuers.
She is pushing to have the park closed until the state can either completely fence off the area where her son and others were killed, or at least close the park during spring runoffs, when the water is running at its highest and fastest.
Had the state taken that action after Hopkins died, her son and the others would not have died.
But Painter said that is not a practical option for the 95-acre park.
“There are lots of other ways that people can get into the area through the river,” Painter said. “It’s not practical to close it off. Even if we shut the park, people can find their way in.”
Painter said most visitors respect the park’s main fencing in the developed area and are usually content enjoying the view and the interpretive displays.
State parks officials are considering plans to extend the fencing to make it more difficult to get to the undeveloped area, as well as looking at signage with more emphatic messages about the dangers that can result from going out of bounds.
“If they go out, they are going to have all this information,” Painter said.
