Fly Geyser Burning Man bought Fly Ranch and is weighing the options
o t n e p is now o the public
by Kris Vagner | kr i s v @ n ew s r ev i ew . com
M
y brothers-in-law Pat Snyder and Jim Snyder have a good story about sneaking into Fly Geyser. They’re both photography buffs, and they’ve gotten some great shots at popular destinations like Death Valley, Zion National Park and Bodie, California, but they favor more remote, lesser-known spots in the Eastern Sierras and Nevada. One fall day in 2014, they ventured to Fly Geyser, an otherworldly clump of bulbous nozzles of calcium carbonate that spew hot water into the sky like a fountain. The geyser, about 20 miles north of Gerlach, began to form in 1964 after an attempt to drill a well, and today the formation is about 15 feet high, painted in streaks of brick red and emerald green by algae and surrounded by shallow, terraced pools. “Jim had known about it forever,” said Pat. The geyser is on Fly Ranch, a 3,800-acre property that was privately owned and gated. “Jim knew somebody who called somebody to see if they could let us in,” Pat said. But Jim never heard back from his contact. So, the brothers headed to Gerlach, lunched at Bruno’s, and asked around about how to access the property. “Just walk in,” someone told them. “So, we drive out there, and the gate’s there, and there’s a sign that says you may not enter,” Pat recalled. The sign also advised that the property was monitored by video, but a camera on top of an old trailer was covered with dust and looked disconnected. Pat and Jim climbed through a barbed wire fence and walked about a half mile to the geyser. “We spent, oh, maybe an hour, just kinda climbing around it, every which angle,” Pat said. He noticed some well-maintained portable toilets there, which led him to conclude that perhaps the place was frequently visited. His hunch was correct. Access was sometimes granted to various groups. In 1994, Fly Ranch was the site of the first Burning Man event held in Nevada. And the likes of scientists, scout groups and occasional television crews sometimes visited. 16 | RN&R | 05.10.18
Ph ot o/ kr is Va gn er
The days of being able to sneak into Fly geyser and stand in the water for a shot like this one, right, are over—though it wasn’t exactly legal in the first place. a boardwalk and viewing platform, above, have been installed for protection.
“There’s no safety rails or anything,” Pat said. “We had waterproof boots on, and we could wade almost clear around and take pictures from every single angle. We had a great time and started to pack up our gear. Then, Jim got the idea that we should go kill a few hours and come back at night.” While still on the property, they saw an SUV with a sheriff’s logo. The sheriff slowed down, rolled down his window and said, “How you guys doing?” Pat remembers the rest of that conversation like this: “Good.” “Did you get some good pictures?” “Yeah, we think so.” “Good! Have a great day.” The brothers killed a few hours in Gerlach, then returned to the site, carefully stepped into one of the terraced pools—about 100 degrees and four inches deep—and set up a tripod in the water. After a few experiments, they concluded that a 30-second exposure would pick up the details of the night sky, and that using a flash twice during each shot would highlight the colors and freeze the water in action. They ended up with a handful of slick, calendar-worthy images.
Plans under construction Plenty of people have similar stories about sneaking into Fly Geyser. I myself never
—kind of
Photo/courtesy Patrick snyder
have—but I consider that more of a ding in my explorer cred than a feather in my legal-compliance cap. Intrepid trespassers are now advised to take this spot off their to-do lists, however. Circumnavigating the geyser and planting a tripod in the water are things of the past. In 2016, Burning Man bought the property for $6.5 million. “The 3,800-acre parcel in northern Nevada is home to dozens of hot and cold pools, three geysers, wetlands, a playa, an old farmhouse, dozens of animal species, and more than 100 identified types of plants,” according to the “Fly Ranch—Burning Man Project” web page. Burning Man hasn’t decided exactly what it will do with this treasure-rich property. Efforts undertaken so far include hosting a research fellow to catalog plants and wildlife, erecting a boardwalk and viewing platform, and posting signs that urge people to stay on trails. A list of 12-month goals includes this one: “Establish security plan and protocols for the property to dissuade trespassing.” And the list of potential long-term goals being kicked around rings with the general sense of experimentation and optimism that underlie much of Burner culture’s ethos. “Fly Ranch … can serve as an incubator for the Burning Man community to take ideas from our temporary city and give them a realworld testing ground,” reads a 2018 roadmap
document. (flyranch.burningman.org/ planning-decision-making/) “It can become a place to experiment with shelter, energy, water, environmentalism, new models of living, working and governance.” The plans being considered include a maker space, research center, communal living space or organic farm. Later this month, a sculpture is slated to be installed, a 300-foot-long pier originally constructed for Burning Man by Matt Schultz and team. (Full disclosure: I’m involved with this group.)
ticketed nature walks For now, Burning Man has teamed up with the conservation group Friends of Black Rock-High Rock to co-manage Fly Ranch, and they’re offering access to the property in the form of ticketed nature walks. On a recent Sunday at 8:45 a.m., my family and I checked into the office of Friends of Black Rock-High Rock office in Gerlach. I signed three pieces of paperwork, then three orange-vested AmeriCorps volunteers greeted the group of 19 ticket-holders and reminded us to wear sunscreen. One guide discussed some of Burning Man’s 10 guiding principles, among them, “immediacy,” which, in this case, would mean no cameras and no cell phones allowed until the last half hour of the tour. The group carpooled about 20 miles up route 447, along the west edge of the playa,
