APRIL 10, 1998
Spring Expedition to Blue Ridge Mountain, 1998
This spring expedition season we had several goals to undertake. We wanted first to locate the wreckage again, and take good gps readings. Even though we took gps readings last year, they did not report an accurate location of the plane. To supplement these readings we also wanted to take compass reading of several landmarks from the plane. These would be helpful if other parties without an aid of a GPS wanted to locate the wreckage.
Once again the day started early. 4:00 a.m. to get up to leave by 4:30. The morning was clear and crisp. The temperature was only 35 degrees and a white circle surrounded a full moon. Only Paul Soderholm and I were to make this trip today, and I was to meet him at the trail head near Mason Lake. I tried not to pack to heavily for this trip. A complete change of clothes, camera, gps, a little food, and pleanty of water. I also was test driving a new pair of boots. Last season I always had a difficult time with my feet. Especially on early trips to the crash area, ice filled my boots, and my feet would turn blue. My new LaCrosse "Grange" boots I hoped would make this trip a dry one.
I arrived in Speculator, N.Y. around 6:15 a.m.. Nothing was open, not even the gas station, so I proceeded north to the trail head near Mason Lake. You know you are getting close when you pass that rock in the shape of a pig's head. Soon the turn off approached. I was greeted with a sign stating "Closed for Logging". I decided that further investigation was needed, so I proceeded (I also did not have to walk that extra 1/2 mile!). The morning was beautiful, and the parking area was empty. I got out of my 1982 Dodge Colt and got my pack ready. I slipped on my LaCrosse boots, took out my walking stick and surveyed the trail. A coating of leaves covered everything. Every time we come up here, the trail and scenery changes. Shortly Paul Soderholm arrived and we were ready to challenge the mountain.
Down the trail towards the awsome Miami River. Actually the only reason the Miami is awsome is that we have to cross it. Was the Miami high due to an early spring runoff? Was our favorite beaver dam still across the river? As we approached we saw the water level was fairly high. In a few minutes we located our old crossing path. My new boots were 18" high, so as I stepped on the beaver dam, I stepped gently. There is a top strap on my boots, and the water was trying to see how close it would come. One mis-step and I would be in water up to my waist. The stream is about 10 feet wide at this point, and soon I was across. We still had one more branch of the stream to cross, and there was a branch of a tree we used as a bridge. The water depth was about 5 feet underneath, and the branch was only about 3 to 4" wide. At this minute I had a greater respect for gymnasts who use the balance beam for their routines. However they do not have hunting boots, back packs, and tree limbs to navigate. Paul went across first, testing the bridge. This is called the buddy system. You let your buddy go over first, and if they make it, they you try. Paul made it with little trouble, then my turn. I did my patented spin move on the branch to go over one branch and under another and made it to the other side. I have only started climbing a year ago, but with moves like this, I looked like a veteran with at least 13 months of experience.
We had a short climb up the hill, then we found the trail and were on our way. Although we have been on this trail several times now, and it is fairly well maked, it is actually quite easy to find yourself off of the trail. Our main goal is to get all of the way to the headwaters of the Freemont Brook, so actually we would not need the trail, but when you find yourself going up and down hills, around bends, it is easy to loose you way. Up the trail we saw a strange sight. A bright maroon blanket was folded neatly on a tree branch. Who left this blanket here? Could it have been from some adventurer who lost his way, and is still out here? The edges of the blanket were tattered and worn, so it looked as if it had been there for quite a while. We left it there in case some lost hiker needed it in the future.
In a short time we were at the clearing and took a short rest. You could see the outline of both of the Haystack Mountains which ment that we were getting closer to the wreckage. We were now in the snow about a foot thick. It was still fairly hard from the cold night, so the walk was still pretty easy. We were moving at a fast pace beacuse there was only the two of us. The next real landmark was the rock. This is a special rock. This rock if it could talk was the single spot in the Freemont Brook where you took a hard left hand turn to go straight up the mountain to the plane. On our last expedition we were a little too ambitious and saw a much smaller rock and bolted up the hill. When you climb to 3200 feet and there is no plane, and you have to go back down, you want to be pretty sure of your turning point. Some of our expeditions were plagued by poor visibility, so the only gague of where you were was with this one rock. One goal of this trip was to locate this rock and film it so there was no doubt of where our Gilbralter was at. From the clearing it is only about 1/2 mile to this rock. The day was beautiful, and you could see for miles. As we neared the Rock, all of our landmarks lined up, and we knew we were close to the plane. There are only certain times that the planets all line up in the sky. When we say our rock, the Haystack Mountains, and a cargo door of the plane, it was like it was the age of aquarious on the mountain. Now it was up the mountain.
Did I say that I am not in the best of shape? My idea of regular exercise is climbing the back stairs at work. By the time I am at the top, I am usually out of breath. To climb, I would have to go 20 feet or so, grab onto a tree and catch my breath. This worked well and since we were on a great pace it did not matter if we got to the top in 10 or 15 minutes. It is very much like taking baby steps, and in my climbing experience, I guess that is exactly what I was doing. One of my favorite memories of last years early expeditions was that when my body wanted to quit climbing, Paul Dubay would frequently say "Mark, I see the top, it's just a little further". Of course he was lying, but it did install hope. Paul Soderholm, who is an expert climber went slightly ahead of me. "Paul, let me know when you are there". In a few minutes I heard three shots ring out, one for each member of the lost crew. I was only about 150 feet down the hill, and I gathered all the remaining energy I had to hurry up the hill.
I had a lot of questions in my heart. Was the plaque to the pilots still on the plane? Was the wing section visable? Were the flags that we planted still there? Soon I was please to find out that the answers were all YES! Many of our collegues thought that there would be much more snow on the top of the mountain. That is what experience told us as well. The last winter had been mild, and its fruits were clear to us standing amongst the wreckage. Much of the plane was still covered with a blanket of snow, but we reached our goal. Paul Soderholm shared with me that his wife asked him why he keeps coming back to this spot in the Adirondacks, when there is so much beauty that can be seen in the area. He said that it was because that is where I go. That was a powerful statement for me. My boys asked me, "Daddy, why do you climb that mountain on Good Friday". My answer to them was that on this day I wanted to be as close to God as I could. I knew that three brave men had died on this spot for their country. Standing there, with a view of miles of the Adirondacks, I knew we were clearly in the sight of God. For me this trip is almost a spiritual one.
One goal we had was to get some landmarks so we could find this spot again. Looking across the mountain the larger Haystack Mountain was at 10 degrees on the compass. The left peak of Cellar Mountain was at 35 degrees. Snowy Mountain which was just to the left of the smaller Haystack Mountain was at 50 degrees. This along with our new gps coordinates 43º 37.7247N and 74º28.1372W, or in UTM 18 05 42 843E, and 48 30 566N. With these bearings I am now sure we could return almost to the spot of the wreckage under any conditions. One key to the elevation, at the crash site you can bearly see Snowy mountain in the distance. If you are too high, (above 3200') the mountain is clearly visable, below this elevation, the haystack mountain hides its view. From our stance, the taller haystack clearly looked higher than our location and one wondered with the opposing mountains, how did this plane end up where it did.
We decided to try to climb to the summit of the mountain to gain a better view. We did not want to loose our bearings, because we wanted to return the to plane to gather our gear. The snow was hard, and we almost left no footprints at all. As we climbed, our view increased. We could see a great valley between the Haystack Mountains, and could see a possible path that the plane took on its ill fated trip. I am sure on that glorious day, that some people were doing some needed chores, cleaning their back yards, or doing other spring cleaning. I could not figure out why everyone in the world would not want to be right here. We started back down the mountain and quickly found the plane again. We hoped we would return again soon, and we headed back down.
We started to head back to the Miami River, but it proved difficult to stay on the trail. The markers were just far enough apart that a slight detour from the path could get you lost. Many people who get lost in an area like this keep going in a direction they think they should, instead of regrouping to see where they really are. We did not really get lost, but we had a short period of wondering where we were. Would we wind up like the guy who lost that blanket out here? If we could only spot that blanket again we would be all set. My legs were cramping up so Paul offered to try to go upstream to spot the trail. I got out the GPS to try to locate our position, but I could not. Paul returned after a few minutes, without finding the trail. We decided to follow a stream downhill, reasoning we would eventually reach the Miami. In a few minutes ahead we saw a shadow on a tree. It was the blanket we were searching for, right next to a trail marker. I found like the prodigal son. I once was lost, but now am found. Back on the trail we were careful not to get lost again. Paul recounted a time hiking when he was off course quite a bit, while his wife was going to a party. Fortunately he had his cell phone that day and could call home to let them know he was all right and would climb out the next morning. Some people who get lost will cross a path because they don't think it will lead them in the right direction. It is better to come out of the woods miles away from the intended area instead of staying in the woods.
We still had to cross the Miami again. I threw the packs to the other side, and we did the branch bridge walk again. The mile from the Miami to the cars seemed to take forever, but only lasted about 1/2 hour. The cars were finally in sight. I got to the car first and dropped my pack. Behind me Paul jogged in. After nine miles he still had some jog left in him. I started getting some dry cloths on, and tried to get out of my new boots. Unfortunately my socks got a little wet, and I am sure my feet swelled from the nine mile walk. The boots did not want to come off. If only I had read the directions on the box! Paul offered to help, so he grabbed on a boot as I held on the car door and stearing wheel. As Paul pulled I was sticking out of the car as if in a severe wind storm. With a final tug the boot came off. I was able to get the other one off O.K.
We were able to spend a few minutes back in Speculator at the Pizza Crust restaurant recounting our trip to the plane. There still are some unanswered questions about the crash. I am sure I will return one more time this spring to try to clean off some of the debris. Thanks for stopping bye.