Lisa got to Wrightwood last night, tearing up I-5 to make the whole trip in two days. Noah is closing in on her from the east, and they plan to meet up sometime today at a spot where the trail crosses Angeles Crest Highway.

Once he is resupplied and has had some lunch, he’ll continue west on the PCT, which goes within a heartbeat of 9,000-plus-foot Mount Baden-Powell, which I assume will inspire him to drop his pack and take a quick side trip to the peak.

It’s been 30-some years, but I remember climbing Baden-Powell one winter day while I was living in Southern California.

It was a snow climb, a beautiful sunny day on good solid footing that turned a little freaky when the wind started blowing insanely. I was traversing west along the ridge to the next mountain, having already made my way to the summit, when, for the first time, I understood why wind was such a danger for mountaineering. I pulled on all my rain gear, gloves and hat, and still felt like the life was being sucked out of me by the wind; eventually I made the decision to get out of the wind immediately and so dropped straight down off the ridge into a canyon to the north, perpendicular to the ridge.

Happily out of the wind I bushwhacked my way down to the highway and trudged back to my car.