We were told there are lots of Grizzly Bears on Howell Mountain, so we bought some bear spray (very potent pepper spray), but I was attacked already while trying to walk into a restaurant in Montana.
Then we encountered a very friendly six month old raccoon.
about five miles up the trail we spotted the track of a small Grizzly Bear. I put my foot in the photo for size comparison.
Finally at the top of the northern shoulder of Howell Mountain, at about 10,300 feet elevation, we were standing near the top of the cliff on the south side of the gulley, looking north. Our route down into the gulley was to the right of this photo. The wreckage is in the sloping meadow to the right of center. Our future path in and out is up and down that cliff between the two snow fields.
Turning to the right, we began our descent. That's Lief with the pack and Aunt Hazel preparing to follow. You'll understand why I didn't take any more photos during the climb down the cliff. It took both hands and both feet, and lots of concentration to avoid falling.
Arriving finally at the site of the wreckage, we first examined it. The elevation is about 9600 feet. We found debris scattered all over the steep mountain meadow, both above and below the fuselage. The cliffs above are composed of conglomerate; looking like poorly mixed concrete. The hard stones easily break out of the limestone setting and fall down the slope, denting the aluminum and driving it farther down the slope. Wind and snow has a similar effect of driving the debris farther down the slope.
Looking down the slope you can see the left wing in the trees at photo center. Last summer Louis and Sam dragged it laterally into those trees to prevent it from sliding further down the slope. Both wings had been torn from the fuselage during the crash. The right wing was found at the same height, south of the fuselage, on the left side of the fuselage. You can see it in the previous photo, beyond the fuselage.
This view is taken from the crash site looking south at the cliff we climbed down. The photo I took from the top was above the left edge of that big patch of snow, and the bottom of our "cliff" descent was at the tip of the trees near photo center.
In addition to airplane debris, we found the remains of an unfortunate Elk. We considered several situations that might lead to its demise.
I think it may have slipped off the top of the snowbank above and it fell to the rocks below. But here's a quote I like from Louis: "In my entire lifetime I have never seen animal tracks going across one of those types of snowbanks. That has to mean something." ...and another quote: "I don't EVER want that to happen again!"
This view was taken from our camp site in the trees, just below where the left wing is being stored. The wreckage is just to the right of center. Debris was found scattered as high as the bottom edge of the snowbank, indicating that the impact happened up in those steep cliffs, around the area where the snow remains.
Here I was being very brave, taking my pack off to extract my cell phone for this photo. My sense of balance is not keen and the weight of the pack could have sent me careening down the cliff. In the foreground you can see the loose scrabble that needs to be avoided. Beyond the scrabble, at about eye level, is the far side of the snowbank we used for sliding up airplane parts.
Looking to my left and down, I can see a blue dot in the trees above the photo's center. That's my four-man backpacking tent. Below center and slightly to the left is the fuselage, and at the tip of the trees at photo right center is a stash of airplane parts being staged to drag up across the big snowbank.
I think those rocks in the middle of that snowbank is where the impact happened.
Before I put my pack back on, here's what my route upward looked like. Lots of hand holds and lots of footing, but you need to watch out for the rocks that look solid but easily come loose.
This view from the top shows the mountain ridge to the east. The airplane clearly made it over those ridges, and they appear to be actually higher than this ridge. A significant drop in altitude, along with the fact that the propellor was not turning at impact, clearly indicates a mechanical malfunction.
From this same position, looking south, you can see the false top of Howell Mountain. The actual top is about 1/2 to 3/4 mile farther south. That false top is about 150 feet higher than the photo location.
Here's where I stood while pulling on the parachute cord that was attached to airplane parts. We pulled about 400 feet of cord before the item attached to it became visible over the curve of the snow. Sometimes the item would dig into the snow and the cord would stretch like a rubber band. Then it would break loose suddenly and begin sliding easily. We don't talk about walking out on that snow. What happened on the mountain stayed on the mountain. We only lost one wing piece and when it came dramatically crashing back down it went airborne for a few seconds. The wind at the top, and the rushing water at the bottom, along with the elasticity of the cord, made communication between top and bottom nearly impossible.
Here's a view from the top of the cliff, just before I began my descent.
Looking back up at that descent route from the staging location, it doesn't look too bad. I think the upward angle of the camera conceals the actual steepness of the slope.
This stark and solitary scene, featuring Aunt Hazel as she crested the top of the mountain, gives a hint of the immensity of the mountain.
Safely back in Cody, here is the crew, all cleaned up and showing off the two undamaged airplane parts we recovered. From left to right you see Auggie, Aunt Hazel, Louis, and Lief. Auggie and Louis are the ones who found the route to the crash site two years ago.
While in Cody we had some time to visit relatives we barely knew, including Lief's third cousin A.A. who is four years old and showing us how to properly use the "cleaning wand" (the radio antenna from the airplane).
Since she had Mama's cell phone she told us she wanted to take a "selfie" of us. ("Mama" Denise is my second cousin.)
Monarch Pass is about sixty miles south of Breckenridge/Vail, as the crow flies. The sign says we're at 11,312 feet elevation. The full-sized file doesn't zoom much since the original slide is just a bit blurry. There were eight of us in the traveling group. The only person missing from this photo is the photographer.
Where did we all ride in that car? I remember frequently riding in "the way back" but I don't remember doing that for this trip, but we must have done that since there were four adults and four children. Check out those classy white wall tires.
These days you would not find me standing so close to the edge of a precipice but in those days I had absolutely no fear of heights. This gorge is labeled as being 1780 feet deep in a related photo. It's where we found a bridge that was built across the gorge just to make it the highest bridge in the world or something to that effect. I think I still have the medallion with an image of the bridge on it, and I got it from the souvenir shop across the bridge.
