A hulking, picked-over corpse of twisted metal, languishing on a beach so black and flat it feels as though the light of the universe itself is being slowly tamped out against the surface. Long before I walked this desolate stretch, I had seen it — long before I brushed my fingers across these bullet holes to confirm reality, I was sure of their existence.
In 1973, a weary pilot flipped over to a reserve fuel tank with nothing in it, and a plane slowly spiraled out of the sky to smash here into featureless, onyx desolation and an overwhelming emptiness. The story of the crash has shades of the emotion I felt the day I went looking for it, and how I feel again today writing about it.
I'm not entirely certain how I've gotten here, but I know this vacuous feeling in the pit of my stomach well. Sometimes it is yearning (for what, I'm not certain,) or exhaustion; worry, or sometimes the sucking void left behind when the thrill of adventure and danger drains away from my heart and releases outwards in a tingle from the tips of my fingers. And then, I am like this beach. I am like this wreck. Tentatively empty. Potentially ready to collapse. Possibly ready to fly.
I live for moments like this: to step from shelter into the wind, and begin walking towards something unknown. Behind me, anchoring the empty highway, crowned by sapphire sky and ermine drifts, a ring of burnished mountains is split by the jagged, gleaming tears in the earth marking waterfalls. In front of me, the curve of the world itself in a wide, absolutely perfect black arc. Grey, low hanging clouds and the smooth visual of the shape of our planet. The fringe of my hair whipping around my face and snapping against my cheeks is the only colour; red floating in the air, red stinging pains in my exposed skin. I am red, and the ground is black.
Walking forwards, I imagine I will see the plane immediately. Instead, I travel for twenty minutes, and there is nothing. I am walking the curve, tracing the horizon with sure steps, but my viewpoint never changes. I am a haze of crimson, with a supernova at my centre. If this obsidian beach crunching imperceptibly below the soles of my feet wasn't already draining this place of light and sound, I would pull both into myself naturally, without even trying. This is how I see the world. And when I look up, this is how I see the plane. It looks exactly like every magazine clipping, every album cover, every haunting image I've unconsciously absorbed. It feels completely familiar.
I'm standing on the wing of an airplane.
The black and grey billows out in all directions and where I expected instagram poses and surreptitious graffiti scribblers or other photographers and disrespectful tourists, there's just me. A single, brilliant red button below the window catches my eye, as though it is a sign from a kindred spirit. I push it, and nothing happens because of course it fucking doesn't. I keep my fingers wrapped around the knob and peer into the shadowed interior. (I'm half expecting a skeleton with an ammo crate or a glowing axe: I play too many Bethesda games.)
Still no one on the horizon, but I'm feeling... fuller. The more of this place that I see — the more of the images I didn't know that I knew that I can match up against the incredulity of being here — the more right this whole thing feels. I was meant to explore, to record, and to stand inside this plane for a moment, so that for a moment it isn't empty any more.
I've been having a strange and sort of rough week this week. Too much work, not enough sleep, worried about some personal stuff, excited to be on the road again. I don't know why I came back to these pictures, but today I was drawn to them.
These photos and words are my own work, inspired by travels all over this pretty blue marble of ours. I hope you like them. 🌶️
I seriously am in awe every single time I read your blog.
You need to do this for a living. You made hunting a plane carcass romantic, visual, and very sensory. The photos are so evocative and haunting.
You have me in your back pocket. I added you to my autovote and now I won't miss any of your posts. I hope you feel better. <3
you are so wonderful and encouraging. I'm working on having all my shit come together, but it means a lot to be able to come here and express, and then to connect through that also ... 🖤
I am a *happy reader and I'll be watching you! <3<3 Much love!
I love how you create cinematography out of the mundane. gorgeous in b&w or color...
I mean, where else is this a thing? It's easy when someone just leaves a plane right where it fell out of the sky...
south american jungles, possibly cornfields... or we can look here! theres some fairly close to me :) nowhere as near pristine as yours tho.
https://www.ranker.com/list/creepy-old-plane-wrecks-you-can-visit/harrison-tenpas?var=7&utm_expid=16418821-388.pwrOe5-lSJetLqzNW0S00A.2&utm_referrer=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2F
Amazing writing on an oddly amazing topic. The stark aesthetic in and of itself, let alone the philosophical and emotional reverberations.
I love: "If this obsidian beach crunching imperceptibly below the soles of my feet wasn't already draining this place of light and sound, I would pull both into myself naturally, without even trying. This is how I see the world. And when I look up, this is how I see the plane. It looks exactly like every magazine clipping, every album cover, every haunting image I've unconsciously absorbed. It feels completely familiar."
This piece reminds me of all of the times, in high school and college in NYC, friends and I would find some abandoned, monolithic building to spend an afternoon in. Just to be there, to revel in the surreal beauty of transience, the fading sunlight on cement columns, to pick up and examine rusted industrial artifacts like post apocalyptic beachcombers. Or climb up inside of a bridge, just because somebody happened to know the way in and why not? Watching the lights twinkle across the empty black expanse of the river from atop those ridiculous metal walkways that sometimes stick out of wharves, jutting out over the water. Clinging to the railings with sweaty fingers and the merciless wind blowing. My girlfriend and I wandering empty warehouse district streets at all hours of the night (oh my fucking God that was so unsafe now that I think about it), as if we were the only two people left alive in a world of gigantic hollow buildings. My fondness for decrepit, condemned piers, where for the small effort of climbing (or finding-slash-making a hole in) a chain link fence, I could be alone with crumbling pavement and opportunistic weeds and the relentless river wind tearing at me.
Thank you for your exquisite, self-reflective writing, and deliciously surreal photographs, I loved this post :)
Blergh I un-voted this post so that I could upvote it with more weight... and now neither Steemit nor Busy will let me upvote it at all :/
Meh, still nothing. I'll just upvote some of your other posts :)
fantastic story @crimsonclad
even on the corpse of an airplane, you made us fly ;)
what a fabulous way of looking at it! Thank you for this little mental image for the day~
Wow. A fabulous new look at an iconic old place. I love places where it's just me, and this would be one of those.
Thanks for sharing a 'just me' spot.
There were many places in Iceland fitting this description that touched my soul. I know just what you mean.
10/10. Again.
the constant support means a lot. Truly, thank you.
These are incredible shots. I've said before on your iceland shots - i really need to get here. It looks so desolate. Almost as if the world had crumbled and left just metal behind. So nice.
definitely, you do, and I know you will; this may have been one of my favourite sights from the whole go-around. Sitting crosslegged on top of an airplane and watching rain mist out over the faraway ocean was beyond a trip.
You are amazing at this. I don't know but this reminds me of the scene from the movie "lord of war" and i could really hear the music of AR Rehman while going through the post.
So well written!!! Those wrek plane nring along a tremandous amount of question and feeling. Most of a crew was probably not over 20 yrs old. They had people they left behind, mission they were believe in ahead, and they end up immortalize on that beech... crazy isn't it? Have a great day ❤️
Just so you know @crimsonclad at 20% is better than most at 100%. I only speak the truth. Hope it all turns around and you get perspective in life and pictures.
This reminds me of a desert mirage crossed with urban exploration. I don't have much to say except that the photos are indeed beautiful. To imagine all the stories this crash, the passengers, and even the graffiti artists had.
This is mind blowing and I love the way you express yourself. Would certainly love to visit Iceland someday.
What a sight, like a carcass of a dead whale...
Were you laying on the ground to take the first shot?
Uh, can you just make an album cover for my metal band? But it's not a real band, however these are rad af!
You travelled to this place, amazing.
Those are some great clicks.
Your writing is awesome
But I'm feeling kind of sad after reading this post
You know, this is so thoughtful, and almost exactly what I hoped for. (Not to make you depressed or uncomfortable, but an intrinsic brush of sorrow, deep down somewhere...)
Well, I don't mind a bit of sorrow.. brings everything into perspective
Seeing decay has always done something to my feels since I was little. A massive steel bird in this state sure does put a life into perspective somehow.
Hope you get some rest, restless one.
I stumbled upon your post as I was looking for places to visit in Iceland :) I am a sucker for abandoned things, so this plane wreck is now on my "must visit" list. Beautiful photos and superb writing, Crimmi!
Wow.... mind blowing photo credit.....I like your all photography...
Thanks for the share
thank you for coming to say so, it is appreciated
Incredible snaps.
thank you! the world is an incredible place.
I'll have this added to my dreamlist. :)
Hiya, just swinging by to let you know you're being featured in today's Travel Digest!
Congratulations, Your Post Has Been Added To The Steemit Worldmap!
Author link: http://steemitworldmap.com?author=crimsonclad
Post link: http://steemitworldmap.com?post=to-stand-in-the-wreckage-a-world-away-a-dc-3-plane-on-solheimasandur-s-black-sands-in-iceland-part-1
Want to have your post on the map too?
Wow gambarnya keren!
Perfect history! In 1973, a weary pilot flipped over to a reserve fuel tank with nothing in it, and a plane slowly spiraled out of the sky to smash here into featureless, onyx desolation and an overwhelming emptiness.
Flagged for repeated abuse. More information HERE
Here's your Donut of Shame, since I have warned you previously about the way you're choosing to pursue your Steemit career:
Copying a chunk of someone's work on their own post, voting it up at maximum strength, while not engaging in any way with the author, is - quite frankly - gross. Please reconsider this behaviour, and don't bring it to my personal blog or you will continue to be met with a resistance for your selfish and spammy methods.
You are right...My steemit account handled one of my employee. From now I will handle my steemit account
, All will be on proper way..... Sorry for that....