“If you’re going to Mammoth Hot Springs, you can get them at the Mammoth Visitor Center.” He shook Emerson’s and Riley’s hands. “I need to move on. Hope you folks have a good day.”
The concierge’s words ran through Riley’s head. Have a good day. She supposed there were all kinds of good days. Some would undoubtedly be better than others. This good day she wasn’t so sure about.
She was at the wheel of the rental car, chauffeuring Emerson to Mammoth. He had spent the morning reviewing maps and geology articles, but they were finally on the road. The ninety-mile drive around Yellowstone Lake and past the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone was breathtaking.
The hot springs themselves were an otherworldly outcropping of terraced crystallized calcium tinted in unnatural shades of red, orange, and green. Geothermally heated water flowed from the top of the terrace down to Boiling River.
Fort Yellowstone came into view just past the Hot Springs. Constructed in 1891 by the U.S. Army, it originally contained sixty structures, some made of wood and some of sandstone, that included barracks, a jail, a chapel, and a hospital. Today, thirty-five buildings survived, mostly used as administrative offices and personal residences for park staff.
Riley parked near a one-story wooden building with a red roof. The sign out front read YELLOWSTONE CENTER FOR RESOURCES.
“What’s the plan?” she asked Emerson.
“I want to talk with somebody from the Physical Resources and Climate Science Branch. They’re responsible for monitoring the Yellowstone Caldera.”
The inside of the small building housing the Physical Resources and Climate Science Branch was set up very simply as a central reception room with three cluttered offices off to the sides. No one was in the reception area.
“Hello,” Emerson called out. “Is anyone here?”
A ponytailed college-aged guy dressed in jeans, hiking boots, and a flannel shirt poked his head out of one of the offices. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Emerson Knight, and this is Riley Moon. We were hoping to talk with one of the scientists about the volcanic activity underneath the park.”
“Sorry, there’s usually just a skeleton crew manning the offices. Everyone spends most of their time out in the field. I’m Dan. I started working here last month, so I’m sort of low man on the totem pole.”
“Perhaps you can answer some of our questions,” Emerson said.
“I can try. I’m a grad student working on my PhD in geology, so I know the basics of the area.”
Emerson pulled a map of Yellowstone from his knapsack. “There’s a giant blob of magma buried underneath the park. Do you know the boundaries?”
Dan took the map and spread it out on the table. “It’s roughly the same as the Yellowstone Caldera.” He got out a red pen and started drawing a rough circle on the map. “The caldera extends pretty much from the western boundary of the park to the eastern side of Lake Yellowstone. Shoshone Lake is on the south side, and on the north, it’s the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. The Gallatin wilderness sits to the northeast of the caldera. Old Faithful is more or less in the center of the circle.”
Emerson frowned at the map. The area delineated in red was a huge circle with a diameter of at least forty miles. “We still need to narrow this down by quite a lot. Is there anything of value in the area?”
Dan looked surprised. “Of monetary value? No. However, from a scientific perspective, it’s unique. Really one of a kind.”
“Are there any research programs or studies being conducted on the caldera right now?” Emerson asked.
“Tons of them. It’s technically an active super-volcano, so the NPS monitors it very closely for any changes.”
“How about in the Lamar Valley?” Riley asked.
“Most of the more exciting research is in the Lamar Valley. The lava reservoir is shallow there. Ten to fifteen miles beneath the surface of the earth. So it’s easier to study. The shallowest spot is at Sour Creek Dome. The reservoir is probably less than a mile deep at that point.”
Emerson and Riley looked more closely at the map at the area around Sour Creek Dome. It was in a remote area of the park midway between the canyon and Fishing Bridge, with no nearby roads.
Riley looked at Emerson. “That’s smack in the middle of the path joining the North Entrance to Yellowstone Lake, where the newlyweds had told the concierge they wanted to hike.”
Emerson nodded. “It looks like it would be at least a day or two hike through the wilderness to reach Sour Creek Dome.”
“Yeah. It’s pretty rough terrain,” Dan said. “But you can’t go there. It’s a restricted bear management area. In fact, it’s one of the most active spots for grizzlies in the park.”
“Are they dangerous?” Riley asked.
Dan laughed. “Only if you consider a highly territorial, ten-foot-tall, eight-hundred-pound monster with four-inch claws and a bad attitude to be dangerous.”
Riley and Emerson thanked Dan for his help, left the Center for Resources, and walked to the Albright Visitor Center. In 1909, the large two-story gray stone building had served as bachelors’ quarters for the U.S. Army cavalry officers. It had been renovated over the years and now contained a bookstore, wildlife and historical park exhibits, and various offices.
Riley followed Emerson to the Mammoth Backcountry Office on the first floor.
“We’re interested in doing some hiking in the Lamar Valley,” Emerson told the ranger at the desk. “We were told we could obtain a backcountry permit here.”
The ranger slid an application form across the desk and handed Emerson a pen. “Absolutely. I just need to get some information first. How many people are in your party and where do you want to hike?”
“There are four of us, and we would like to hike from the North Entrance to Fishing Bridge.”
“Whoopsie,” the ranger said. “I can’t issue you a permit for that. You would have to cross through bear country and some dangerous thermal areas. There are a lot of great, safer hikes in the park.”
“We’re investigating the disappearance of Emma and Joshua Bulfinch, the newlyweds who went missing last month,” Emerson said. “We think they may have disappeared in that area.”
The ranger shook his head. “Like most of the rangers, I was involved in the search. They didn’t go missing in Lamar Valley. They were in the Gallatin wilderness on the other side of the park.”
“Interesting,” Emerson said. “We believe they intended to hike through Sour Creek Dome to Yellowstone Lake.”
The ranger went to his computer. “All the permits are scanned and entered into our database.” He typed “Joshua Bulfinch” into the search engine and turned the computer screen to Emerson and Riley. “You see. They applied to hike in Gallatin. There’s even a notation in the file that they checked in with the ranger station in that area before they began their hike.”
“So no one searched for them near Sour Creek Dome?” Riley asked.
“No. The search focused on where they were last reported seen.”
“Who reported that they saw them in Gallatin?”
“The ranger’s name isn’t noted on the permit. You’d probably have to ask the deputy chief ranger in charge of field operations. He’s responsible for all the law enforcement and search missions in the park.”
“Is he available now?” Emerson said.
“I’ll go see. Can I tell him who’s asking?”
“Emerson Knight.”
The ranger disappeared through a door that read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
“Do you think it’s a little weird that they didn’t bother to search Lamar Valley when the hotel concierge reported that was where they wanted to hike?” Riley asked once they were alone.
“Not at all,” Emerson said. “It’s perfectly logical that they would search fifty miles away, clear on the other side of the park. They didn’t want the newlyweds found, probably because the people responsible for searching for them are the same people responsible for their disappearance.”
TWELVE