Sulfurous geyser clouds steamed over the fresh snow-covered boardwalk. With chilly high elevation winds pushing us along we discovered a small backpacking chair clipped to a stuffed day pack on the walkway. Up ahead, a couple hundred yards, we could see a bundled form standing overlooking one of Yellowstone’s many geysers. We continued on and passed him. Why the vigilance?

The next day we returned to the boardwalk. Once more we found the silent sentinel. This time he was bundled and sitting on his small chair next to a geyser titled Grand. We paused and then dared to ask what he was doing.

“We saw your pack and chair yesterday. Are you a photographer or researcher?” 

“No,” he answered.  “I love to watch geysers and have only seventeen days to sit out here and observe them.”

His name is Corbin and he is the first geyser geek I have ever met. We peppered  him with questions. He gushed about the timing, the personalities and the sequences of what he called the “gauntlet of geysers.”

At one point we apologized for asking so many questions but he shushed our guilt away and assured us that he enjoyed sharing what he knew. And he knew a lot. I really doubt than any of the staff at the National Park Service Visitor Center at Old Faithful knows as much as Corbin.

Corb the Geyser Guy

He shared that he has has harbored a 19-year passion for  geysers.  Oh, and Corbin is 18 years old. With a wry smile, he told us that his parents met as college students during a summer of working at Old Faithful Lodge in Yellowstone National Park. Corbin was conceived in the neighborhood of thermals. Sounds hot.

“I’ve been coming here from my home in Denver every year since I was eleven,” he shared. “This is the first time I have come alone to focus for over two weeks on observations and submitting data.” Nodding at a sudden burp of steam, he added, “Besides, watching the geysers in winter is far more dramatic. The steaming water hits the cold air making for an explosive looking event. And there are way, way fewer tourists out on the boardwalk.”

Staring at the roiling cauldron, Corbin calmly noted, “There, the thermal pool around the geyser is filling slightly.” 

He was amazingly dexterous with his bare thumbs typing the observations and time into his mobile phone. He also carried a radio for transmitting observations back to someone at the Visitor’s Center next to Old Faithful. 

Corbin closely watched the Grand geyser and informed us that this geyser would be erupting within the next hour and a half. “This geyser erupts every 6-8 hours.  Each eruption can last ten to twelve minutes.”

“Old Faithful is the signature glacier in the park and get all the press. But no geyser in the world can send an eruption as high as Grand. It can sometimes reach 200 feet in the sky.”

With that tease, we tugged our parkas tighter and hunkered down in the cold to wait.  Some of the smaller nearby pools looked inviting to slip into for a warming soak. Not a good idea.

In the late fall of 2016, a 23 year-old man was visiting Yellowstone with his sister. They both thought it would be fun to “hot pot” with a warm soak. They left the boardwalk and were in a prohibited area. It is against the law to vandalize or go into the hot springs. The brother stretched to test the water with his fingers and ended up falling into the thermal pool. His sister, unable to pull him out and without phone connection, had to run for help.  The rescuers hurried back but found her brother had died. It was late in the day and they could not get his body out so decided to return the following day with more resources.  The next morning all they found was his wallet and a pair of flip flops. The acidic, boiling hot water had dissolved him.

Yellowstone’s hot springs have injured or killed more people than any other natural feature, including falling and wild animal encounters such as bison or bears.

While we waited, I asked, “Are you pursuing studies that involve geysers?”

“I’m a freshman at the Colorado School of Mines, majoring in Petroleum Engineering. That way I can study seismic activity.  I want to get a job where I can make a lot of money in a few years and then kick back and pursue my real dream of seismic mapping the fractured bedrock of thermal areas.”  

“So any thoughts when the next “big one” is going to explode?” I asked. Corbin smiled and said, “Well if you believe the conspiracy theories, rather than the science, it could blow any day. But I tend to agree with the seismologists and other experts. It’s likely that the great-great grandparents of your great-great grandchildren will never see it.”

And yet, I have to admit I felt a wee bit like I was walking on broken glass knowing that super-heated molten rock or magma roiled less than two and a half miles beneath my feet.

Suddenly Corbin matter-of-factly declared, “See that vent just to the left of Grand’s steam? That’s called “Turban” and Turban is starting to show signs of erupting.”  

“How soon will Grand erupt?”I asked.

Assessing the thermal pool rising and Turban hissing, Corbin confidently answered, “Now .  . . and Now.” With his second “now,” Grand sent a loud, noisy plume of steam high into the sky. 

Corbin radioed in the eruption time and began typing observations on his phone. For several minutes we watched spellbound as the geyser surged like a steamy fountain of fireworks. And Turban, Grand’s little sidekick, shot its own thermal celebration.

Ten minutes later, the eruption subsided. Corbin folded up his small chair and donned his daypack. He wanted to catch the eruption of Daisy Geyser and Riverside Geyser before he headed to his cabin for an afternoon nap. He was planning to return to the steaming landscape to resume his vigil in the evening. 

I found myself inspired by Corbin. Rarely do I encounter such unfettered passion. I wondered what percentage of humans follow their calling? Is it a luxury to have the time to channel so much of your energy into a passion? 

Joseph Campbell was a noted 20th century thinker, mythologist and author. His advice to people is to “follow your bliss.” 

It’s safe to say that Corbin is following his bliss. . . .and hiss.