I’m going to try to put into words this moment. For two years I have wanted to do this hike, and find this wreck. Yesterday as the stars would align, my friend and I were able, kidless. We hiked a mile and a half past the wreck, and got ourselves lost on the very basic hand written map I had to go on.
During the whole hike we heard rifles (it’s hunting season) and airplanes overhead. As we backtracked through the forest we found a tiny trail that we thought would lead us in the right direction, and here she lies...the Flying Fortress, who wrecked in 1941 all passengers except the pilot parachuted out and survived. We ate our lunch and there was absolutey no sound. As if the trees created a sound barrier memorial. I didn’t expect that it would feel so somber. I expected a lot of other adjectives...like “cool” and “odd.”
But to know a man lost his life here, saving his crew, and to witness the devastation in all it’s glory, nearly 80 years later was...somber.
I’m glad I finally had the opportunity to experience it.