In June of 1943 a B-17 Flying Fortress with ten airmen aboard was flying from Pendleton, Oregon to Grand Island, Nebraska where it was to join other bombers and continue on to England to take part in World War II.

When the bomber and its crew failed to arrive in Grand Island they were declared missing and the Army conducted several unsuccessful searches in an attempt to locate them. In August of 1945 a couple of cowboys saw something shiny on a ridge in the Cloud Peak area of the Big Horn Mountains in Wyoming. They set out to investigate and discovered the wreckage of the B-17 and the deceased crew.

Those involved in the recovery effort believe that one of the crew may have survived the crash as he was found propped next to a rock with an open bible and his open billfold with family members’ pictures lying next to him.

In August of 1946, the Forest Service christened the unnamed mountain, Bomber Mountain, in honor of the fallen crew members. A plaque listing the men who died in the crash was placed near Lake Florence at the base of the ridge where the crash occurred. Much of the wreckage still remains strewn amongst the massive boulders on the ridge of Bomber Mountain and many people hike to the area every year to see the wreckage and pay their respects to the crew.

I first heard the story of Bomber Mountain several years ago and have wanted to hike up there and have a look around for quite some time. In August of 2013, myself and two of my best friends, Paul and Bubba, set out for Bomber Mountain. I’m really not sure what’s so intriguing about trying to locate the 67 year old wreckage of a bomber but I’m glad I’ve got a couple friends that were willing to take part in the adventure with me.

To reach Bomber Mountain one must hoof it about 23 miles round trip at an altitude between 9,000 and 12,000 feet with about 30 pounds of what not strapped to your back. We were planning to spend two days on the trail so we divvied up the food, tent, and what not amongst us and set out from West Tensleep Campground with jovial anticipation.

It is a beautiful hike with a lot of high mountain scenery to soak in while you totter along as both a sightseer and a beast of your own burdens. Mile after mile, hour after hour of pondering the beauty of it all, exchanging insults with good friends, and contemplating whether the weight of an extra pair of underwear and a toothbrush are worth the added strain is good for the soul.

The first day was a relatively easy 8 mile hike to Misty Moon Lake where we eagerly dropped our packs, set up camp, and took an uplifting soak in 40 degree lake water. The second day was not so relatively easy and left all three of us in various degrees of discomfort.

To make a short story long…we were not able to locate the wreckage. We were in the right area but apparently went wrong when we went right instead of left. So it goes. I guess you could say that the mission was a failure but the journey was a success. Successful in bringing friends together and allowing us a little time to try and put the big picture on hold while we enjoy the company of people who know us better than they would like. Sometimes it takes a mountain.