Expedition to Fairyland Day 2

"Don't go chasin' waterfalls..."
Dawn breaks over the mountains into Joseph's Coat. Everyone is tired and slow-moving, especially Stephen. He didn't bring a sleeping bag, only one of the velour blankets from the cabins. I was so cold that I woke up twice; once to put my wool socks on and again to cinch my zero degree bag up around my head with only my nose sticking out. As cold as I was, I know Stephen must have been freezing. Still, he has been camping up here before, so I don't understand why he was so ill-prepared. We let him sleep another two hours and then bring him hot chocolate.
We can only reach Fairyland Basin in a day hike because we are not allowed to camp in un designated camp sites. 4B1 is the closest site. Our original plan was to follow Broad Creek to Coffee Pot Creek and follow it up to Coffee Pot Hot Springs, over the ridge toward Shallow Creek, descending into the canyon just downstream from Golden Fleece Falls and following Shallow Creek the rest of the way into Fairyland.
Here's a description of the area, quoted from Yellowstone Waterfalls (paraphrased), "Broad Creek may be the most interesting back country stream in Yellowstone. It arrives at Joseph's Coat Springs, on of the park's more colorful hot spring basins, enters a densely forested canyon. Soon the canyon becomes more imposing. Sheer walls begin to rise and forested banks give way to chutes and rapids, forcing the hiker to wade in the stream. The creek then begins to plummet over a series of waterfalls and cascades and soon there is no place for the hiker to walk. The creek merges with Shallow Creek at the Fairyland Basin, the site of one of the most astonishing and mysterious thermal formations in the world. Here the canyon walls are over 1,000 feet high. The only documentation of the three major waterfalls of Broad Creek's canyon appears in an obscure USFWS document. It reads: 'the falls on the stream were identified by helicopter.' We want to stress emphatically that Broad Creek Canyon is one of the most dangerous and confusing areas in the entire Yellowstone back country. Many expeditions have gotten lost or stopped by the country's geography and failed to achieve their goals. Sheer cliffs, swift water and vast tracts of impenetrable deadfall make travel through this canyon extremely difficult."
As you read what follows, keep in mind that I didn't read the above description until after we returned from our expedition.

It was late morning by the time we left 4B1. We followed Broad around the Joseph's Coat Promontory and did our best to keep track of the drainages on our right so we wouldn't pass by Coffee Pot Creek by mistake. On the topo map it looked simple enough, it would be the third creek we passed. In reality, there were many more drainages and we soon lost track of where we were. The topo map looked tame, reality was not.
We spent more and more time crossing the creek on logs or trying to avoid falling in the creek as the canyon narrowed. Soon we swapped our hiking boots for sandals and walked right down the middle of the creek.
At this point the creek bed was a flat, smooth slab of yellow stone. It wasn't even slippery, so we were pretty content to walk in it.
We dubbed it the 'Yellow Brick Road.'
We were cheerfully splashing our way down the Yellow Brick Road when we suddenly met its end.
We found ourselves staring down a huge waterfall. High cliffs framed the top like a gateway.
After gawking at it for awhile, Andrew started down the right side and I headed for the left side. (I thought the right side looked like more of a drop off) Andrew made it down without much trouble and helped the others.
I ended up stranded on a concave wall, unsure if I should trust the dry, crumbling rock or the slippery, mossy, seeping rock. After a long, shaky climb I joined the others at the bottom of the falls. Andrew had gotten pretty wet so he decided to go for a swim in the circular plunge pool at the center of the falls. He said he didn't touch bottom.
Later in Yellowstone Waterfalls I read that the falls are unnamed but unofficially called Guardian Falls for the way they guard Fairyland. They were unknown until some park employees (like us!) reported them in 1997. We were really excited about the falls and speculated that we were probably the only people to have ever seen them. Little did we know we had just descended into Hell. Our lovely Yellow Brick Road was replaced by a treacherous, boulder filled creek. Every rock was coated with slippery algae and we started to fall often. I slipped, dunking my camera and GPS and smashing my knee on a rock. The camera and GPS turned out to be alright, but I had to sit for awhile before the pain let up enough for me to go on. By this point our GPS units were useless anyway because of the steep canyon walls, blocking satellite reception. At some point, I can't remember if it was before or after Guardian Falls, Stephen asked that we set a turn around time, no matter if we reached Fairyland or not. After some talk we agreed on 4 pm.
We slogged on for what seemed like an eternity and then the unthinkable; another waterfall. This one was in such a position that all we could do was go up. Climbing down it would have been insane. We struggled up through a rocky passage to the right of the fall. From the heights we could hear the discouraging roar of rapids, cascades and perhaps more waterfalls, echoing from the canyon ahead. It was nearing 4 pm. After a short, sad discussion, we decided it was time to turn around. No one wanted to go back up the creek though. We were already a quarter of the way up the canyon wall so we decided to climb the 1,000 feet out of the canyon to the top of the ridge.
I took one last look at the place where the canyon turned and reminded myself I could always try again. Stephen told me several times, "Sometimes it is more important to come back alive than to reach your destination." He was of course, very right.
The climb out through burnt lodgepole pines and cheerful pink fireweed, was slow, but in many ways not as bad as what awaited us on the ridge. Several times we knocked rocks loose. Andrew knocked the first one loose and Stephen turned pale as he watched it bounce past him into space. "You say, 'ROCK FALL!'" he requested with wide eyes. The ridge was a hot, desolate, burned out forest. When we left the creek to attempt to climb around the second fall we didn't realize that we were leaving it for good. On the ridge there were no creeks to pump water from and we ran out quickly in the heat. You could tell the force and direction of the fire as it roared through from the way in which all of the saplings were bowed in the same direction. It looked as if an apocalyptic wind had blown through the forest. The first little bit wasn't that bad. We could mostly walk between the matchstick trees, stepping over the occasional deadfall. After awhile we came to some thermal vents that were on the map. We joked that it was the easiest 500 feet we'd walked since Joseph's Coat. A herd of mule deer eyed us before bounding away into the Shallow Creek drainage. I wished that I could travel so effortlessly through the landscape as the deer. After the thermal area travel became more difficult. The burn was interspersed with dense, old-growth live forest. The thin lodgepole pines were replaced with massive fir trees. Stepping over deadfall was no longer an option for me. Now I had to climb over the fallen trees. My father calls this kind of landscape, "Matchstick Hell." I describe it as a giant's game of 'Pick-up Sticks.' We did our best to use the sturdier fallen trees as a network of crazy, zig-zagging sidewalks through the forest. It was scary though, as one slip might leave one of us skewered on a broken branch.
Finally we came to Coffee Pot Hot Springs. It was a more hellish than scenic spring though. Maybe it was just our mood, thirsty and nervous as the sun sank lower in the sky. We considered pumping hot spring water to drink but no one really thought it was a good idea, so after snapping a few photos we continued on. It may have been that we were tired and stumbling, but after Coffee Pot the terrain seemed to get even worse. We weren't just stepping and climbing over deadfall, but at the same time, climbing in and out of the deep drainage valleys the cut across the ridge. Pilar was stung by a wasp and, as Stephen came to her aid he was also stung. At that point we did our best to run over the deadfall without impaling ourselves. After awhile we did come to a tiny trickle of a stream where we pumped water and drank. Unfortunately the water came with mosquitoes and I sprayed repellent in my eye in my haste to be rid of them. Ouch! We hiked on.
Finally, as the sun met the ridges, I caught a glimpse of the slopes of Joseph's Coat.
Some time later, exhausted, but somehow satisfied, we collapsed around the 4B1 fire ring. Later, I read that the falls where we finally turned around are called Halfway Falls because they are believed to be only half way from Joseph's Coat to Fairyland Basin. I congratulated Stephen on probably being the first Asian or foreigner to see the falls. Pilar and I are probably the first women to see them. We slept soundly that night, the mystery of Fairyland guarded by waterfalls.