Slow Down and Smell the Sulphur
Whoosh. I pull into a roadside pullout to let yet another tailgating vehicle pass.
“Everyone is in such a hurry,” I chuckle to myself as I return to the road, and we continue on our way.
It is common for visitors to Yellowstone to try to pack as much as possible into one trip (or even one day). And I can understand the temptation—there is so much to see and do here that it’s daunting to pick and choose and feel like you are missing out on something important. But the irony is that the more you try to pack in, the less you are likely to truly take away from the experience.
On this particular mid-August day, I only have one main goal for the trip: Great Fountain Geyser. My group is a super cool family from Long Island, New York. By this point in the day, they are all too familiar with me periodically pulling over to let faster traffic go by. I had checked the prediction for Great Fountain’s next eruption while eating my breakfast that morning, and when I saw that the prediction was for 1:30 pm, I knew we didn’t need to rush.
Thanks to our early start, we can begin our morning with a peaceful stroll around the Mammoth Terraces, listening to the gentle trickle of the warm water coming down the travertine steps — a sound that is drowned out by crowds of people later in the day — as the clouds catch the first rays of the sun overhead. Further south, we roll into Lower Geyser Basin while the parking lot is still half empty and enjoy the sights and sounds of Clepsydra and Jet geysers playfully splashing in the morning mist. Down at Black Sand Basin, we watch from a near-empty boardwalk as Cliff Geyser comes into the major portion of its eruption cycle, its pool gradually filling with water until its minor splashing grows into a near-continuous cacophony of 40-foot-tall bursts.
As we leave Black Sand Basin, I check the prediction for Old Faithful Geyser and see that we are already halfway through its 26-minute window of when it will most likely erupt. We opt for a more relaxing pace rather than trying to speed off and rush over there. “There’s a good chance we’ll miss this eruption, but we’ll catch the next one,” I reassure the group. “Old Faithful erupts roughly every 90 minutes, and there’s plenty of other cool stuff to see between now and then.”
Apparently, Old Faithful is enjoying an equally laid-back morning. As I maneuver into a parking spot near the Old Faithful Inn, I notice that there is still a massive crowd of people on the boardwalk surrounding Old Faithful Geyser. It is ten minutes beyond the end of its “window,” and it still hasn’t erupted. “Not very faithful today, is it?” we joke as we lazily saunter over, taking the trail around the back side of the geyser for a more intimate experience with no crowd. As if it had been waiting for us, Old Faithful chooses that moment to burst into eruption, and we are treated to one of the most delightful Old Faithful displays I have seen in quite some time.
By lunchtime, it is time to set our sights on Great Fountain and start heading north. Great Fountain is predictable, but it is a much less accurate prediction than Old Faithful. Compared to Old Faithful’s 26-minute eruption window, Great Fountain has a staggering four-hour window in which it may erupt. Combine that with a roughly 12-hour interval between eruptions, and it’s fair to say that Great Fountain takes a healthy dose of patience and luck to observe in eruption.
Fortunately, some really cool features in that neighborhood can make a multi-hour wait hardly feel like a wait at all. We watch in amazement as the ‘blue flame’ of Firehole Spring dances beneath the surface of the clear blue water. This phenomenon results from steam bubbles rising from the spring’s subsurface vent and collapsing before breaking the water’s surface, creating a mesmerizing blue glow. Far in the distance, we look up to see that White Dome Geyser has started its eruption and is blasting water into the air from an impressive 20-foot-tall sinter cone.
I check my watch: 12:30 pm, one hour into Great Fountain’s window. A quick scan of the horizon to the northeast confirms that it has yet to start erupting.
We make our way down to the next pullout, where a gap in the trees near Surprise Pool gives us our first glimpse of Great Fountain’s eruption crater. Gentle bubbling at the crater’s edge tells me we’ll probably get an eruption within the next half hour or so. Great news!
In the meantime, we wander across the street and set our sights on a very unassuming pool a hundred yards off the road: Botryoidal Spring. The vast majority of visitors drive right past this feature without giving it a second glance, which is easy to do. Named for the “grapelike” sinter deposits around its edges, Botryoidal gives the observant visitor a brilliant — albeit brief — show every two to five minutes: a giant bubble suddenly bursts several feet into the air, followed by vigorous boiling and splashing in an eruption that lasts less than a minute in total. We eagerly watch through binoculars to get an up-close view of the split-second moment when the colossal bubble first bursts into the air.
After Botryoidal retreats back into its pool for another few minutes, I turn behind us and see that our patience has paid off. A massive jet of water rising above the trees across the road signals that Great Fountain is finally ready to start playing. We bid Botryoidal goodbye for now and walk across the road to witness one of Yellowstone’s most impressive geysers. Erupting from a large crater in the middle of a broad terraced bench, Great Fountain is truly a spectacle to behold. Burst after burst sends water splashing tens of feet into the sky for several minutes. The pungent smell of sulfur fills our nostrils as the warm steam blows over us.
We continue to sit tight as the eruption subsides and Great Fountain’s water starts to recede deep into the crater. To the uninitiated, it is easy to assume that the eruption is over at this point. And sure enough, people start to get up from their seats and head to their cars, still in a rush to get to the next stop on their list. But Great Fountain is only taking a short breather. As soon as most of the crowd leaves, she returns to life and starts erupting anew.
Great Fountain will go through several of these “series” in its eruption cycle, shooting water into the sky for a few minutes of pulsating eruptive activity, then quieting down for a few minutes before starting up again. After watching the first few series, we were feeling pretty satisfied and ready to start making our way back to Gardiner after a successful day of geyser gazing. But Yellowstone had one more treat in store for us.
“Let’s stick it out for one more cycle,” I urge the group. It had been almost 30 minutes since White Dome Geyser had last erupted, so I knew it was due for another one soon. Sure enough, after another few minutes of quiet, Great Fountain springs back to life while White Dome simultaneously enters its eruption. Seeing both geysers erupting in concert is the perfect capstone on a truly remarkable day in Yellowstone. At no point during the day did we ever feel like we were in a hurry to get anywhere, yet we left with our hearts full and our souls rejuvenated–reveling in the amazing sights we had been fortunate to witness.
As I write this, a few days have passed since that memorable tour. I am once again sitting on the boardwalk at Great Fountain, waiting to catch another eruption–this time on a day off. I’ve been here for an hour, and it could be up to another three hours before the magic happens, but I’m happy to stick it out as long as I have to. Why on Earth would I wait hours to see the same geyser I just saw a few days ago, you ask? Because every geyser eruption is a minor miracle of geologic forces, and the next one is never guaranteed.
Bystanders at Norris Geyser Basin witnessed an eruption of Steamboat Geyser — the tallest active geyser in the world — in 1911. They likely had no idea they were seeing Steamboat’s last eruption for the next 50 years. And when New Zealand’s Waimangu Geyser suddenly woke up in late 1900, no one could have predicted that it would die out just as abruptly, only four years later, due to a landslide. The catastrophic Hebgen Lake earthquake in 1959 changed the behavior of numerous thermal features in Yellowstone literally overnight. These wonders of nature are ephemeral, and these geysers can not be taken for granted.
So, next time you are in Yellowstone, take some time to slow down and smell the sulfur. Let the acrid odor ground you and call you back from whatever distant thoughts weighed on your mind. Take a deep breath and know that there is magic around every corner here as long as you take the time to look for it.
Blog content and most photos courtesy of YW Lead Photo-Naturalist Rob Harwood. To learn more about Rob, and the entire Yellowstone Wild team, click HERE.