Geysers by Moonlight 2014, Beehive shoots for the moon.

After the debacle that Beehive and it's Indicator decided to put us through last season, I was pleased to arrive in Yellowstone to find Beehive is now cooperating quite nicely, erupting anywhere between  13.5-19 hours. On June 10 Beehive erupted at 1018 in the morning, I was present for the eruption, and I elected that I would go out during the bright nearly full moon and see a moonlit Beehive while taking some pictures with my new Nikon DSLR Camera. I'm pretty sure the camera was the only thing that saved me from going insane.

Beehive Geyser's cone by Moonlight. Photo by Micah K. 

After hauling all of my gear up to Geyser Hill around Midnight, I was greeted by a nice tall eruption of Lion Geyser, which was finishing up a series it started earlier in the evening. Pleased, I walked past Beehive and set up my camera, and began to shoot some pictures. Eventually, I got everything the way I wanted, put the lens on, and walked away. I was fully expecting Beehive to erupt on a 13-14 hour interval and expected that I would be in my cozy dorm bunk at 3 am, I forgot the number one rule of Geyser Gazing. NEVER say always with a Geyser. 1 am and 2 am waltzed right on by with nothing but a distant Grand and a handful of Big Anemone's to show for it. I began to get chills while muttering made up curses at the 4-foot hunk of geyserite in front of me. Beehive looked dead, I was getting cold, and fog was. gathering on the hill. It was the gazing equivalent to watching paint dry, and I was not pleased with Bug.

Throughout the evening, blowing steam had given me momentary cardiac arrests by giving the illusion that water was in Indicator, but it always turned out to be false. However, at 0300 exactly, I suddenly heard a gurgle and burble. I trained my light on Indicator just as a rocking pool of water appeared, seconds later, Indicator erupted. I whooped and ran to my camera, wary of the ominously shifting wind, which kept on pushing Beehive's steam towards me. I knew that if I moved the wrong way, I could get very cold and wet indeed.

Beehive's Indicator erupting with the lights of the Old Faithful Lodge in the background. Photo by Micah K. 

Then....my camera died, I managed to get a couple photos of Beehive's indicator in eruption. And then kaput. But all the better, because what happened next will be engraved into my memory for the rest of my life. Beehive splashed, splashed, surged, and erupted.

Immediately my jaw dropped, Beehive's roar filled my ears as it rocketed into the sky, knifelike jets leapfrogged from the column and reached for the highest stars. I could help from screaming and jumping up and down as Beehive climbed to almost unbelievable heights. The boardwalk shuddered in tandem with the pulsing cacophony emanating from the cone. A curtain of water fell northeastward and doused a large portion of Geyser Hill before cascading back towards the Firehole.

My smile stayed glued onto my face as Beehive gasped out its last steam huffs into the night sky. It's good to be back.  

Beehive Geyser

Across the Firehole River from Old Faithful rises a barren white hill covered with gray minerals and bright streaks of bacteria. This is aptly named "Geyser Hill" and it contains one of the largest concentrations of geysers in the world. Several of the geysers are significant spouters, and one of them is truly spectacular when it plays, and is usually a crowd favorite.

Geyser Hill in the early morning

Beehive Geyser lies on the southern edge of Geyser Hill. Its name is based on its four-foot-tall cone that rises out of the surrounding sinter platform, resembling an old fashioned straw beehive. Most visitors walk right past Beehive during its quiet interval, only giving off subtle subterranean rumbles, wisps of steam, and occasional splashes. But, once a day, something occurs that sends the observing Geyser Gazer scrambling for their radio, and has all the other Gazers speeding in from across the Basin. Beehive's Indicator erupts.

Beehive's Indicator erupts, Beehive is the cone on the left.

Beehive's indicator is a jagged vent a few feet in front of Beehive, between the boardwalk and the cone, that fills with water and erupts up to 15 feet. As hinted by its name, Beehive's indicator usually only erupts just before an eruption of Beehive.

Somewhere between seconds and 30 minutes of Beehive's Indicator starting, Beehive will suddenly pour out a surge of superheated water from its cone, dousing the surrounding area and sending up a ball of steam. This is followed by a huge jet will exploding from the cone, blasting into the air and climbing 150-200 feet into the sky. The spectacle is one of the best in Yellowstone. During many eruptions, visitors will be showered by the falling water of the eruption, getting soaked within seconds. This water is usually cool, as it has time to chill as it falls through the air after leaving the vent.

With the boardwalk coming within 50 feet of Beehive, the sound of the water is incredible, reminiscent of a roaring jet engine. Supposedly the sound is due to the steam and water escaping through the vent at nearly supersonic speeds, although this theory has yet to be proven.

Beehive erupting in June 2014. Photo by Micah K. 

When I arrived in Yellowstone at the beginning of summer in 2013, Beehive was cooperating fairly well. 16-20 hours were the norm, with the occasional curveball interval thrown in. Then, on July 4th, things took a surprising turn. Beehive's indicator decided to erupt for an hour. Beehive splashed, and splashed, and splashed, but did not erupt. Geyser Gazers and visitors who were expecting a show groaned, but for different reasons. For visitors, it was the fact that the Geyser hadn't erupted as "promised" by the Gazers. For the Gazers themselves, it was because a "false indicator" means that Beehive is probably "broken".

 Sure enough, Beehive was "broken" for the entirety of the rest of the summer. Indicator began a pattern that would continue for months, erupting for 45-60 minutes every 3-4 hours. Beehive sometimes went days between eruptions, and several of them occurred with no indicator preceding it. After July 4 I only got to witness four more Beehive eruptions, two of them from a distance, one of them in the middle of the night from a distance, and one, by sheer luck, from the boardwalk in front of it.

Regardless of how Beehive behaved that summer, it's always a thrill of looking up and seeing indicator jetting outward, and the roar of Beehive's column as it towers skyward is always awe-inspiring. And once again, it's a crowd-pleaser, and I always love it when visitors get to enjoy the wonders of Yellowstone's Geysers.

Beehive Geyser and its indicator at sunset. Photo by Micah K.