This morning I awoke not to the cheerful twitter of birds but to the patter of graupfel snow hitting my tarp. I quickly breakfasted, packed up, and gratefully made use of the Camp Manning pit toilet as the storm rose.
I had another mile or so and a 500 foot climb to the top of the Rincons, and by the time I got there the blizzard was in full force: horizontal snow driven by gale-force winds, zero visibility, the trail becoming obscured by accumulating inches of snow. It was cold enough that my drinking water froze.