I feasted modestly upon tender nuggets of carne wrapped in warmed tortillas Sean had generous offered me, and we burned oaken chair legs of my former dining room table set well into the night, speaking in hushed and reverent tones of grand attempts to enter into the deepest canyons and traverse along the most isolated ridges of this hostile, seductive upheaval of stone that sings a siren song we’ve habitually failed to refuse.
A demoralizing plunge downwards through high altitude deadfall and buckthorn was required to reach this enigmatic summit, and only myself, Sean and the indomitable Tim were determined enough to see it through to the very grano-dioritic pinnacle of the bump itself, in the process losing 500 feet of elevation we knew would not be easily gained back again. But such physical hardships are trivial in comparison to the divine pursuit of giving Ranger Nick ( @adventures_in_nomansland ) one more peak he now must bag.
(Meanwhile, a few paces into the deadfall JeffH called it good at his own special peak of “Neighty-four-hundred” and turned back to rejoin the others and plan lunch.)
Myself, Sean and Tim signed the brand new Neight Thousand register (shockingly there wasn’t one already present) and battled the ridge back up to follow the PCT to the rest of our companions and discover fresh, cold, miraculous water emerging from the deepest subterranean heart of the mountain to fill our canteens and souls before we plunged down the Windy Gap trail, fueled by hungry anticipation of the gourmet grilled cheese meal we knew was contained within Jeff’s backpack waiting to be realized.
Back down in the Crystal Lake campground Jeff unleashed his carefully curated collection of tools and ingredients to form us crunchy, gooey tablets of unctuous salvation, shared amongst fellow slayers of stone. The ingredients grew steadily more elaborate and absurd with each grilled cheese sandwich until we were reinventing culinary conventions with pestos and gummi bears to create a brave new thriving society of trailside lunching, with Jeff our unanimously elected sovereign.
Ideas for future expeditions were discussed, and I am certain more iconic adventures are in the offing. In the meantime I am still feeling the lingering intoxicating effects of traversing the high country of the San Gabriels, and very much consider myself high on its exposed, rugged magnetism.
