Bill-on-the-Hill

Labor Day, and the start of some serious geyser gazing. We saw a number of things we had never seen before, and had some close-up wildlife encounters. However, the thing that will stick in our minds from this day, entirely consistent with our experience on the Italian volcanoes, was the one we did not see -- just barely.

Before getting to the geysers, a brief, derogatory word about what H. L. Mencken called Boobus americanus, the Common American Tourist. One problem with Yellowstone, at least if you're not making reservations incredibly far in advance and paying the near-extortionary rates to stay in lodging inside the park, is that in driving from attraction to attraction, you will almost certainly get caught in a frustratingly slow line of traffic as a result of people stopping at roadside -- or in the middle of the road -- to gawp at wildlife. I don't mean to denigrate the wildlife watchers; there aren't too many places left in the United States where you can be pretty sure that an elk or bison will amble past your car as you're driving on a routine, heavily-traveled road. (As it happens, we live in another of those places, and I have had the unsettling experience of hitting an elk while driving, but that's a side issue.) And I don't begrudge the viewers their roadside parking while some great beastie is within easy viewing range. But GET OFF THE ROAD to do the viewing! Stopping in the MIDDLE of the road for a wildlife encounter is discourteous to the other people you're sharing the road with and creates real hazards. Even worse are the idiots who drive WHILE viewing, and photographing, critters. We had one encounter with some clown who was taking a photograph with one hand while trying to control his car with the other, and I can absolutely guarantee you that that vehicle was not being operated safely and responsibly. PARK IT to take pictures! Not only will you thus refrain from creating a safety problem, your photo will turn out better as well. Thanks...

So back to the Upper Geyser Basin, which we reached after an early-morning start from West Yellowstone, worrying all the way that our sought-after Giant Geyser had erupted overnight. A quick inquiry at the Old Faithful Visitor Center revealed that it hadn't (and I got the distinct impression that the ranger was happy to answer a question other than the inevitable "When will Old Faithful erupt?"), so we hiked off down-basin to check things out. On arriving at "the cage," the viewing platform in front of Giant that's a favored hangout of the serious Geyser Gazer, we ascertained that Giant wasn't in a state that was likely to produce an eruption soon -- more on that tomorrow -- and the gazers had all continued down-basin to look at a couple of other favorites that were believed more nearly ready to go. Off we went to join them.

Now a quick digression on the well-equipped Geyser Gazer. If you're just wandering the basin hoping to see something at random, all you really need is sunglasses (it'll be sunny most of the day), raingear (there'll probably be at least one shower), and a camera. However, to do things systematically, some other gadgetry is useful, none more so than a common two-way radio. The serious gazers, many of them park volunteers, operate a net of observers who use one of the radio channels to inform each other, and the Visitor Center, when something is going on. Listening in on this net is a great way to learn what the Basin is doing, and to get precursors of eruptions that may allow you time to get to something you'd otherwise miss. We'd never had radios before, but as we were making the transition on this trip to novice geyser-gazerhood, we picked up a set, and they immediately came in handy.

We learned from our radios that the gazers were congregating at the overlook for Artemisia Geyser, which was believed to be about ready to erupt (as it does once a day or so, on average, although it's not predictable). Artemisia plays from an absolutely gorgeous blue pool that's about 50 feet below the level of the trail to it, and since the play typically reaches about 40 feet, the whole shebang is usually below you as you watch -- quite an interesting way to view a geyser. We'd never seen it on our previous trips despite some attempts, so this seemed like a good time to join the gazers. Our timing was excellent; en route, almost without thinking about it, we got a nice eruption of Riverside Geyser, shown here --

which is one of the park's most predictable geysers, typically going off about every 6.5 hours, and is large and gorgeous in the bargain. We'd seen it many times before on previous visits, but it's always worth a stop when it's going. Also on the docket was Atomizer Geyser --

an attractive "medium-sized" geyser just behind Artemisia. All this provided some nice gazing while waiting for the main show. This wasn't long in coming:

Artemisia Geyser

Notice how different this play is from the previous two. Riverside and Atomizer (and the familiar Old Faithful) are both "cone-type" geysers that erupt fire-hose-like columns of boiling water from built-up piles of geyserite, while Artemisia is a "fountain-type" geyser that boils forth from this big pool and gives more of an impression of effervescence than of a fire hose. This kind of individuality is one of the main reasons why these guys are so fascinating, and why geyser gazers keep coming back to see them. Eventually the eruption died out, and we left the gazers and headed back to the coffee shop up at the main visitor area for some lunch -- which was a mistake.

To anticipate why lunch was a mistake, check out the Web Site du Jour, from the Geyser Observation and Study Association's site: http://www.geyserstudy.org/geyser.aspx?pGeyserNo=MORTAR, in which Fan and Mortar Geysers (which almost invariably erupt in tandem) are described. Fan and Mortar are in some regards even more prized by the gazer than Giant, as their simultaneous eruptions rival Giant in spectacle if not sheer power and they're harder to see. In most years they erupt only a few times a year; in others (as last year, when we were there), they're entirely dormant. So seeing them is a rare treat, even though 2007 is a "good" year for them. Most of the gazers had headed for Fan and Mortar when Artemisia finished, but dumb fools that we were, we thought we could get a quick bite of lunch before returning to the gazing ...

... And hoo boy, were we wrong. We'd just picked up our sandwiches and were leaving the grill to head back into the basin when the telltale call of an eruption came over the radio -- not just any eruption, but FAN AND MORTAR erupting. In other words, we had missed this geyser, which neither of us had ever seen before and hadn't even been active at all on our previous trips to the park, simply so that we could stuff our faces. So we went roaring back down-basin hoping to at least see the final little bits of activity. We actually made it there before the eruption stopped, but the good stuff was long done. Fan and Mortar, like most (though by no means all) major geysers, are at their most spectacular in the first few minutes of an eruption, and we'd missed it, getting only the last gasps before the complex went back to sleep.

Well, no point in agonizing too much over the one that got away; there was still lots more gazing, and photography, to do. One of the nice things about Upper Geyser Basin is that it attracts wildlife, and is open enough that you can see it from a distance. This brawny fellow --

Bison and Inn

-- seen here with the Old Faithful Inn in the background, ambled across the trail just a short distance ahead of us. Bison have the right of way (I'd had an unnerving encounter with one close to here on a winter visit some years back), so we let him do whatever he wanted to, including posing for this and several other shots. We'd see this guy the next couple of days as well, although never this photogenically. (Morbid trivium: the thermal features of the basin are hot enough to kill and cook animals that fall into them. One of the non-erupting springs here had thus trapped a young bison a few years back, and we are told that it smelled like beef soup for weeks until the unfortunate corpse was sufficiently tenderized. Eeuuwww!)

And so, back to West Yellowstone, where we had a thoroughly vile steak dinner at a restaurant whose name I will refrain from giving. As Giant was thought to be getting back into pre-eruption condition, we wanted to make an early start of it the next morning, so an early bedtime with dreams of geysers and bison (cooked or otherwise) in our heads.