Ruminations on Grilled Cheese
The grilled-cheese sandwich. Two slices of white bread, butter, and cheese. A gastronomic staple of childhood and the culinary stuff of adulthood nostalgia. I never really thought that much about how enjoyable the combination of hot cheese and toast could be. And I certainly never considered the absolute epicurean genius one must possess to imagine, and the actually grill, grilled-cheese sandwiches on a mountain top. But a recent group outing to Wright Mountain in the San Gabriel Mountains brought me cheesy enlightenment about these important subjects.
The event that set the table for this sudden understanding was the 14th anniversary of the San Gabriel Mountains Discussion forum. The forum is a San Gabriel Mountains-focused on-line board for posting trip reports, photos, information, questions, nonsense, and other valuable (and invaluable) whatnot. To celebrate the forum's 14 circle around the sun, Sean (aka Cucamonga Man), one of the board mucky-mucks, planned a ramble to the summit of Wright Mountain from the east starting from PCT mile marker 356 at the end of Forest Road 3N31. The plan was to arrive Saturday afternoon, car-camp at road's end beneath Gobblers Knob, and then hike westward along the Pacific Crest Trail ("PCT") to the summit of Wright Mountain.
Meet Up Beneath Gobblers Knob
After a slow and bumpy ride up 3N31 from Lone Pine Canyon, I arrived at the designated spot late Saturday afternoon. It was the middle of deer hunting season in Zone D11, so I passed several armed hunters in full camo on my way in. David and Elwood were already there when I arrived so I settled in with them as a heavy blanket of clouds began to broil up the ridge from the valley below. It was an ethereal scene reminiscent of the Ten Commandments when the Lord sent the breath of pestilence to kill the first born of the Egyptians. Fortunately, none of us perished as the fog passed-over while we drank beer and waited for Cucamonga Man, our Moses, to arrive so he could lead us to the promised land on the morrow. Much later, as the fog retreated and darkness replaced it, Dima and Sondra arrived to join the group.
We were still above the cloud bank the following morning as the sun began to rise in the crystalline blue sky. In an over-used word, it was spectacular. While we waited for Cecelia and JeffH to arrive to round out the group, I made a quick dash to the summit of Gobblers Knob. There is no trail to the summit, so I just gutted it out up a steep and loose old firebreak the follows the eastern ridge. The top of Gobblers Knob is wide and flat so it wasn't immediately apparent where the actual high-point was. But on the far western side of the summit I found a rock-pile which, officially or not, marks the spot. I could locate neither a register nor benchmark on Gobblers Knob, but I did find one of those ubiquitous triangular signs known as "witness posts." And it was the only time the entire trip that the back-side of Mt. Baldy would be visible.
PCT West to Wright Mountain
Shortly after I descended from the Knob, Cecelia and JeffH arrived and we headed out, jumping onto the PCT which transects the parking area. The well-maintained trail skirts Gobblers Knob to the north as it climbs gently toward the Blue Ridge and Wright Mountain. As you go along, the transition from a more scrub-dominated environment to a lush evergreen plant community is obvious and striking. You also get good looks at Dawson and Pine which dominate the southern skyline. Ultimately, the trail tops out and joins an old fire road that wraps around the south side of Wright Mountain. Here, we stopped at a window above the slide area at the head of Heath Canyon for snacks and the sublime scenery. Wrightwood and the high desert were visible in the foreground, while the southern Panamints could be seen on the northern horizon.
Grilled Cheese Sammies on the Summit
As we settled in to luxuriate in our achievement with our bland old trail mix, beef jerky, and granola bars, chef de cuisine JeffH dug into his stash of secret goodies and pulled out all the makings for grilled-cheese sandwiches. In a flash of mad-scientist brilliance, he had packed a loaf of bread, slices of American cheese, a container of butter, a frying pan, a spatula, and his stove. He then went about grilling sammies one at a time for everyone. It was candidly delicious and we all sat around in the warm sun extolling the awesomeness of Jeff's gastronomical creativity and licking butter and melted cheese off our grimy fingers.
