I was doing some online research recently on areas in the San Gabriel Mountains when I came across Cougarmagic's posting from January 2012 re the mystery at Winston Ridge. I do not have an answer to her particular query but I thought she and others in this forum might be interested in something else that was near that ridge.
Around 1970-71, I along with three friends decided to drive up the Angeles Crest Highway to have a little picnic wherever it seemed would be nice along the way. It was probably the view toward the Antelope Valley that made us stop and do some minor hiking in to sit down and have cheese, bread and sparkling wine. Of course, it was wonderful to be there enjoying a sunny afternoon with pleasant mountain breezes - and the wine certainly complemented it.
After awhile of enjoying a scene that if Edouard Manet had been there he might have painted and titled, "Déjeuner sur les Montagnes de Gabriel", one of the group returned from a brief stroll and she said to the rest of us: "I wonder if those people would let me use their bathroom?".
I could recount further the conversation but I will jump ahead a few moments to where all of us were hiking up the hill and soon enough what came into view was quite a surprise. We proceeded to go around the south side just a little below an out-cropping of rocks and then as we rounded it we saw this to the northwest which is depicted in a quick sketch I made of it sometime later.
Yes, it was a small, alpine-style cabin. We all just stood there looking at it and if I say that I probably said "Wow", well, that would not be far from the feeling at that moment. I then called out a, "Hello!", to alert whomever might be in the cabin rather than startle them by knocking on the front door. After repeated calls it was apparent that no one was there.
We all walked toward it but I was the one who went right to the door. There was a yellow, metal sign from the Forest Service saying something or other about the place but I didn't even finish reading it and just gently pushed on the door. Before me was a room with two sofa beds and an oil-burning stove in the northwest corner. A ladder went up to the loft. A window at the west wall that framed trees and sky better than any painting. Then I turned to my right and in the corner was an old well-used broom. Without giving it a second thought I grabbed it and immediately began sweeping the floor of the cabin. The others followed in and were likewise amazed and we all did some sprucing of the place.
From that moment on and for nearly 5 years I visited the cabin many times and in all the seasons. I went with friends, relatives, and significant others from those years. Many good times and in all truth I can't think of a visit when I was there and felt anything other than in good spirits. Some were day trips, other times we stayed overnight. The stove could also burn small pieces of wood, cooked many a can of soup and whatever else, and was easily cleaned after use. Powerful little stove too in that even if there was snow outside the temperature inside got to the point where you had to open the door to cool down slightly. And of course, the outhouse nearby worked as efficiently as any outhouse could. And not once in all those years did we meet up with someone from the Forest Service to tell us otherwise about being there and only once while there did another hiker show up. In essence, the cabin was always there, as if it were a second home. In some ways it was.
There is a word: "Halcyon". One of its definitions is 'idyllically calm and peaceful'. The cabin and the surroundings were certainly that through the many sunrises, afternoons, twilights and nights enjoyed there. And for those who may be so inclined, I would add the definitions of transcendent and otherworldly; let's just say I and others visited the cabin's counterpart in other dimensions. Magic, plain and simple.
Then one day years later a friend and I climbed the hill and looking up it seemed the cabin had disappeared. Arriving at the spot we could see it had been dismantled. Wood was laying all about and we recognized this or that item from the interior. I simply stood there for awhile and reflected on the cabin and what had once been. There was a little sadness but at the same time there was a gratefulness for having experienced this place, this 'portal', that seemed like a gift from the forest spirits freely given for a special 'season' in my life. Yes, it may sound a bit romantic and rhapsodical to some and I too can cite all the 'mundane' reasons for the whys and wherefores of it. But somehow that would seem disrespectful, the 'facts' are simply not enough to to describe all that it was. I'm sure many of you have had experiences where the facts were inadequate to the feelings of wherever the magic gifted you, whether for a day or longer.
The other day I spoke with a long time friend of over 45 years who lives in Los Angeles. He was also one of the original group and the one that was with me when we discovered the cabin had 'moved on'. He knows others who may have some photos of the place and if any turn up then I will post them here. The woman who first discovered the cabin and asked about the 'bathroom' is now living in Oregon and breeding horses. My friend is going to ask her if she has any photos since I remember her with a camera on some of the visits. There are others who may have taken photos, but like the cabin they have also moved on to other places known and unknown.
Yet, no photos will ever be what the actual place was for me and others. The best images, the ones that live, are in my mind and heart. They may slip in and out of remembrance, but they never fade. For those of you around my age, well, I don't have to preach to the choir. For those of you in your teens, 20s and more, then wherever you find that magic whether it be a cabin or just a simple rock with a view afar, enjoy it whether alone or with good company. Little moments like that can last a long time.
It's been many years, too long, since I've been to that area. Since then many other places, people and times have come and gone. Priorities arose and abided by and responsibilities have had to be managed. But someday soon, maybe next year or the one after that, I will drive alone to that parking area. I will walk down the forest road a little then make the turn up the hill. And I know that with every step upward it will become a bit more emotional. Then I will probably sit, as I often did, by the boulders that were just a few yards from the north side of the cabin's balcony and gaze deep and afar. I will stay there a good, long time all the way to when some of the twilight stars can be seen. I may even stay overnight if I can figure where to park the car. To experience another night and sunrise there would be as we used to say back then, "primo".
The topos don't show a name for that particular area but for me it will always be the ‘Cabin at Angeles Crest’. I am thankful for its delights, wisdom understood, and its cherished memories.
Thank you and best wishes to you and yours.
Daniel
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Updated: The GPS coordinates of the cabin area are 34 21 10.398N by 117 55 27.648W. Following is an image showing place where one turns from forest road (dashes) up to cabin. Distance from parking area to turn I think is around .3 of a mile. Of course, if one feels energetic they can always climb in a straight line from the parking area (just east of Mt. Waterman).
