The eerily colored geyser spouts steaming water in a quiet, constant breath. It’s surrounded by travertine rock and cracked playa — an area of flat, dried-up land. From afar, it looks like a giant heap of melted crayons, but it’s actually a churning monument of mineral and microbial life. And yes, it was formed by accident.

The Fly Geyser wasn’t born from tectonic upheaval, but from a human error in 1916, and another one in the 1960s. Two drills with different purposes both failed to reach their goal, and when the well was improperly sealed, nature took over.

Fly Geyser Geology

Even though the Fly Geyser was created artificially, its main characteristic is still defined by geology.

The western United States is being pulled apart, geologically speaking. Over millions of years, tectonic forces have been slowly stretching this part of the continent. This stretching causes the Earth’s crust to thin and crack, forming a series of mountain ranges and flat valleys — hence the name “Basin and Range.”

Where the crust is thinner, heat from deeper inside the Earth (from radioactive decay and residual heat from the planet’s formation) can rise closer to the surface. This makes regions like northern Nevada geothermal hotspots, even though they’re not near any active volcanoes.

The location of the hot springs on Fly Ranch is specifically controlled by this activity. The underlying geology is a complex mosaic of ancient rock formations, including various types of metamorphic rocks, covered by younger volcanic sequences and thick layers of river clays and sediments, which act as an insulating cap rock, keeping the heat within.

This geological framework provides both the immense heat and the mineral-rich source water that are the fundamental ingredients for the geyser.

Minerals and Microbes

As the deeply circulated water travels through these varied rock layers, it dissolves a high concentration of minerals, particularly calcium, bicarbonate, and silica, which it carries to the surface. Then, when the pressurized water escapes to the surface, it creates a geyser.

Yet unlike natural geysers like Yellowstone’s Old Faithful, which build pressure and erupt on schedule, Fly Geyser is more like a punctured lung. It emits a steady spray of hot, mineral-rich water, day and night, from three main vents.

The minerals in that water — especially calcium carbonate and silica — solidify upon exposure to the air. This is how the travertine rock around it is formed. But it’s the life clinging to that rock that transforms it into something that looks like art.

The reds, greens, and oranges that streak across Fly Geyser’s surface come from thermophilic algae. These are microscopic algae that have adapted to hot water of over 50°C. Different species prefer different temperatures, so they arrange themselves based on the thermal gradient. This creates colored zones depending on how hot their corner of the geyser is.

How two Accidents Created a Natural Laboratory

The story of Fly Geyser’s formation is inextricably linked to two separate drilling attempts. Nearly half a century apart, each attempt was made for different purposes and each had unforeseen consequences. The first chapter started in 1916 when local residents, in an effort to make the arid desert landscape suitable for agriculture, drilled a well in search of irrigation water. Their efforts were successful in finding water, but it was not a water they could use for their crops.

The water they tapped into was geothermally heated to a temperature near boiling, exceeding 200°F (93°C). So, the well was promptly abandoned.

However, the pressurized, mineral-laden water continued to flow from the borehole. Over the next 48 years, the constant water discharge led to the precipitation of its dissolved mineral content. A prominent cone of calcium carbonate, a form of limestone known as travertine, gradually formed at the site. This initial, accidental geyser grew to a height of 10 to 12 feet and became a local landmark known as “The Wizard”.

The second, and more consequential, event occurred in 1964. A geothermal energy company, exploring the region for potential power sources, drilled a new test well a few hundred feet away from The Wizard. Once again, they encountered the 200°F water, but this was not hot enough to be economically viable for generating electricity. So, the company abandoned the project. Reports from the time indicate that the well was either left entirely uncapped or was improperly plugged, and the seal ultimately failed under the immense pressure of the geothermal system.

The discharge from the 1964 well was so significant that it fundamentally altered the subterranean hydrodynamics of the area. By providing a new, less-restrictive path to the surface, it released the pressure that had been feeding the original 1916 well. As a direct result, the water flow to The Wizard sharply reduced or ceased altogether, leaving the once-active cone largely dormant. All of the geothermal energy and mineral-rich water was now escaping through the 1964 borehole.

This series of accidents created a very unusual system.

A Unique Structure

In most geothermal systems, it takes thousands of years for silica (the same compound in glass) to crystallize into quartz. First, it must pass through various forms. It starts as an amorphous gel, then passes through transitional minerals, and finally becomes quartz. At Fly Geyser, that process is happening in decades. This makes Fly Geyser more than a curiosity. It’s a real-world laboratory for studying mineral formation in accelerated time — something geologists rarely get to see. In its rushing, steaming flow, time itself seems to bend.

The microbes also play a role, building with the silica-rich water and accelerating the process. This tight biological-geological feedback loop is one of the most fascinating aspects of geothermal systems. At Fly Geyser, it’s happening on an observable scale. But not all of Fly Ranch’s biological marvels are invisible. In 2000, researchers discovered a new species of snail (Pyrgulopsis bruesi, the Fly Ranch Pyrg) living in just one spring-fed pool on the entire 3,800-acre property. It exists nowhere else on Earth.

This tiny mollusk, only about the size of a sesame seed, is critically dependent on the stable thermal conditions of its habitat. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service declined to list it under the Endangered Species Act in 2021, but its future remains fragile.

In fact, the snail’s survival is tightly linked to the stewardship of the land — which is probably not what you’d expect it to be.

Unusual Stewardship of a Natural Wonder

For years, Fly Geyser was fenced off, inaccessible to the public. Then, in June 2016, the non-profit Burning Man Project successfully purchased the 3,800-acre Fly Ranch, including the geyser and its surrounding wetlands, for $6.5 million. Yes, this is the nonprofit better known for building a temporary city of art and flame on the nearby playa.

For decades before this acquisition, nothing really happened at the site; nothing except the geological and biological activity, that is.

This acquisition brought a new philosophy of stewardship for the property. In May 2018, for the first time in over two decades, the ranch was opened for limited public access. People could visit it, but access is carefully managed to protect the fragile environment. It takes the form of small, guided nature walks. These typically last three hours and are offered from April through October each year. Tours are organized by a local conservation group, in partnership with the Burning Man Project.

Today, the Burning Man Project is transforming Fly Ranch into a hub for regenerative culture. In addition to the nature walks, volunteers called “Fly Guardians” help manage the land. And artists, scientists, and sustainability advocates are working together to reimagine what a long-term human presence on this land could look like. In 2020, the Land Art Generator Initiative held a global design challenge, asking architects and engineers to propose off-grid infrastructure that was both functional and beautiful. The winning designs included solar orchards, water-harvesting spirals, and carbon-negative buildings made of waste steel and recycled materials.

Ultimately, the Fly Geyser a geothermal oddity, a monument to mistake, a pulsing biome, and an unlikely community symbol. It is not the tallest or most powerful geyser in the world, but it’s got one hell of a story. The hot water still flows and the microbes and minerals still build. It’s a reminder that sometimes, beauty emerges not from what we intended to create, but from what we failed to control — and then chose to protect.