G and I reached the hamlet of Burton at 4:15 PM on the dreary and blustery afternoon of March 28th, xxxx. Departing the coach we refreshed ourselves briefly at the Timbers, a comfortable if somewhat rough inn. Then it was off across the village to the home of young Tom Penrose to hear a first hand account of his accidental discovery....
... leading us off on a path across the fields and then up onto the wooded cliffs along the Lake Huron. After some rather strenuous scrambling we climbed to a distinct rocky promontory over looking the water and the stony shore. It was then that we spied the area of strange fog that clung to the base of the cliff and soon we became aware of an odd sound to be heard above the rhythmic heaving of the waves, an eerie and organic low howling whine emanating from that fog. Peering more intently we began to make out the outlines of a most peculiar and somehow disturbing object. We must make our way down....