As amazing as it seems, although I’ve been living in the Pacific Northwest for more than a quarter-century, virtually my entire time has been spent west of the Cascades, with a few trips over that ridge to shoot foliage and festivals on their eastern slope. Until this past July 3rd, the furthest east I had ever traveled was to Wenatchee and Toppenish, both located midway across the state.
Finally, the day before Independence Day, I drove over Snoqualmie Pass, through Cle Elum, and kept right on going — through the high desert of central Washington, the farm country of Othello and Washtucna, and to a long-time item on my “bucket list,” the rolling wheatfields of the Palouse. It may have been only four hours away from Seattle, but it may as well have been four days, as the southeast corner of the state nothing so much as the farmlands of the
eastern Great Plains. Fortunately, I had timed the trip well, as the new wheat had reached a considerable height, but still carried the green of spring. Later in the summer, of course, everything would have turned golden — still making for wonderful photographs, but not the freshness I was seeking to convey.
The Palouse, in its simplest form, is a loop beginning in the college town of Pullman to the south, going up route 195 through Colfax and Steptoe, then turning south again at the junction with route 271 to Oakesdale, then on route 27 through Garfield and Palouse back to Pullman. There are two large hills, or buttes, offering a panoramic view of the land: the wooded Kamiak Butte to the east and the taller, barren Steptoe Butte to the west, but much of the land can best be appreciated by simply driving the roads in the area, and pulling off to take photos any time a photogenic combination of scenery and light catches your
attention. Since there were so many opportunity for quick “grab shots,” I found myself violating the usual dictum of landscape photography, and shooting hand-held much of the time. This wouldn’t be practicable without my Sony Alpha’s in-body image stabilization (or, for Canon or Nikon shooters, the vibration-reduction lenses available for those systems) but, thanks to the wonders of technology, it was possible to shoot at a relatively-small aperture (for front-to-back focus) using only my car as a camera brace.
I did use my tripod for shots from the two buttes. Kamiak Butte is lower with more trees; the view from there is by the fence at the end of the picnic area, and faces north. It struck me as a better choice for shooting in mid-morning or mid-afternoon, while Steptoe excels at sunrise or sunset. One warning about Steptoe is that the road does go up and up, and the top is high enough that haze can become a real problem at those favorite shooting times. My advice would be that, if you see a good composition and light from a viewpoint at
one of the lower levels, find a nearby pullout and shoot from that vantage point, rather than continuing up to the top. I didn’t follow my own advice, and found myself shooting into a thick sunset haze that blurred detail and washed-out color. Fortunately, on the way back down, I found a nice composition just as the sun had dropped below the horizon, and was able to get my favorite Steptoe Butte image from there rather than from the summit.



























