Geysers by Moonlight, night Gazing in Yellowstone.

I suppressed a shiver, gripped my pencil tighter, and tugged my hood further down over my face. Cold mountain wind knifed through me as I stared at the steaming pool before me, Depression was due, very due. Suddenly I caught movement, clicking on my headlamp I observed water pouring over the large sinter rim of the jagged crater.  Finally.

The first jet caught me by surprise, making me jump in my folding chair as it blasted through the pool. After that, my smile widened as Depression Geyser threw water up to ten feet, it was a strong eruption. Of course it had to be at night. 

It's been 2 weeks in Yellowstone, and of course, when I'm not at work, I'm out in the basin. However, many of my shifts have me getting off at 7-9:30 pm, the gazing takes place early morning and in the evening. But it has made me realize that night time gazing is different from gazing during the day time, your senses increase in sensitivity, the smallest splash makes your head swivel looking for a source. You play everything by ear. 

I almost enjoy night gazing more than I do day gazing because of how much more in depth it is. No distractions of crowds, or car horns, or radio transmissions. It boils (pun intended) completely down to your own observational skills and experience, there's no group of older gazers to tell you what to look for, your entering into a whole new playing field with the Geyser. It's just a chess game of time and observing patterns to figure out what it's going to do. And that's what Geyser Gazing is all about.

Watching the Sawmill Group under the stars Photo Courtsey of Will Boekel.

Geologic Pit Stop: Dry Falls, Eastern Washington.

Earlier this week, while I was planning my  route to take to yellowstone, I decided to take a slight detour up to the north. Directly in the heart of eastern Washington lay a province known as the Channeled Scablands. This area is named for the massive canyons, or "Coulees" that pockmark the area. (Coulee? Sounds familiar, as if there's a large landmark in the state that has that word in its name, comment below if you know!) 

These Coulees are some of the most fascinating geological features in Washington State. Not just because of the Coulees themselves. (which are awesome!) But because of the massive geological event(s) that created them. 

15,000 years ago during the last major ice age, a massive ice sheet smothered the entirety of Canada and much of the present day northern United States in a sheet of ice that in some places was 5,000 feet thick.

Part of this large ice sheet, a lobe, desceded through the mountains of present day northern Idaho, and completely blocked a river valley with a wall at least 1,000 feet high. The River in the valley backed up. Eventually creating a massive Glacial Lake that covered an area more than Lake Superior and Lake Ontario combined, and submerged the present location of Missoula Montana under 1,000 feet of water. 

One day however. As the temperatures increased. The ice dam collapsed, and Glacial Lake Missoula poured through the opening, the almost incomprehensible torrent tearing right towards Eastern Washington. Once the massive flood reached the brittle Basalt Flats covering the area, the sheer power and force of the water dug deep channels into the bedrock, creating the coulees we see today. 

Dry falls is located in the biggest (aptly named Grand Coulee. It is where the floods created a huge waterfall, hundreds of times bigger than Navada Falls in New York.  And you can see where this waterfall was, ad what damage it did to the rock. Along highway 17 there is a visitor center perched right along the "brink" of the falls. It tells the geological and human history of the area, and also sells books and posters on the subject. 

I stayed at this visitor center for about 20 minutes before hopping back into Ol Bess' and continuing my journey. Very excited for what geological adventure ill have next!