As fog and low clouds came sweeping through Vincent Gap, two dozen muffled
figures disappeared up the trail to Baden-Powell. Two to two and one-half hours
later, the near side of Baden-Powell looked like someone had spread crumbs and
snowbirds, cardinals, jays, and other assorted birds had stopped to feed; in
reality, the HPS had arrived without winter plumage. It became necessary at this
time for several birds (for various reasons) to fly south via Los Angeles.
Continuing along the ridge, the remaining number - with frequent stops to keep
in touch - mushed on. At times, because of thick fog, we left the ground. This
was to climb over or around the stuff; in fact, when the peak was reached, we
left a register at 7553', is considerably higher than the topos list Ross.
After a lunch with no view at all, we headed for the ridge to re-climb
Baden-Powell. As the temperature dropped we ascended, stopping frequently for
air and to keep bunched so as not to lose anyone. The leader kept a machete
handy for fog when it got too thick.
Soon we began to notice a rare Southern California phenomenon - ice. It was
forming on us, the trees, and all exposed surfaces. Our meteorologist explained
that the fog, on coming in contact with a colder surface, was forming ice. Is he
right?
Everybody arrived back at Vincent Gap safely, but wondering if it hadn't all
been a dream; after all - floating vapors, silver encrusted eyelashes, sugar
coated tress, and two quarts of water?
(Editor's Note: From where I was walking, the clouds were so low I couldn't see
all that fog the leader got into.)
