Here is the account, in period terminology, that I sent off to our group's mailing list, sort of addressed to our leader (referred to as "Sir" in the address line).
I must report to you what chanced on attempting to meet up with you at our rendezvous.
Making good time to try to avoid what might be incoming bad weather, myself and
my compatriot Shula Shoup did arrive the day before with our supply train. Scouting
the area ahead of you, we found ourselves seeing that there were tents of a few
artificers, mostly selling swords and other goods in anticipation of battle, set
up near our point of rendezvous. There were also a few merchants selling hot meats
and goodly beverages--well appreciated, for the chill was very bitter. We fortified
ourselves with some of the same, and joined the locals in a caolie they were holding,
which they said would help the goodly folk to stay warm by staying in motion.
We then retired to a nearby inn to await your arrival the next day, to make the
rendezvous with you, though we had received late word that your baggage train might
not arrive. At the inn, we met others who were also set upon coming to these upcoming
events, who occupied the room next to us, and we wondered at the weather, for it
was starting to snow quite hard, so much that we had moderate difficulty getting
our wagon up a steep hill by the goodly inn.
In the morning, we looked out to see large and fat flakes of snow falling rapidly,
and a deep blanket of snow over all. I, having better footgear for such than Shula,
ventured out to check our wagon, and found it buried deep in snow, with our exposed
baggage at the back (fire containment and firewood) buried deep in snow as well.
A most interesting pass of events! We watched one man with a large waggon of goods
try to leave, and nearly get stuck in deep snow and he slipped and slid on drifts
and the hill that had given us trouble the night before. Being of sensible nature,
we decided not to venture out, though we saw some nobles in grand finery getting
into wagons and putting chains upon their wheels to try to head toward town. We
decided to stay where we were, for we were not at all sure you would be able to
make our rendezvous. It was a wise decision, for two hours later, I saw some sorry
looking folk coming into our inn, whom we recognized by their garb, from the direction
of our proposed rendezvous, and asked news of them. They said they were cold and
wet and miserable (the snow, by then, was turning to slush), and felt they should
never have warm feet again. They informed us tht the roads were closed in many directions,
due to inclement weather. A bit later, we saw the fine folk of the nobility come
back to the inn, looking much worse for wear. At that point, we determined that
if the roads were open, that we would attempt to meet with you later, at a future
planned rendezvous point. By mid-afternoon, the roads were said to be open in one
direction, though caution was urged, so we dug out our wagon and managed to make
our way out of the inclement weather. We shall meet with you at our next rendezvous
point, instead, and hope you did not suffer in the snow."
Another member of our group posted a similarily period account of not getting up there because of closed roads. We still don't know if our fearless leader even attempted to get there from Sacramento.
Oh, and my decision to skip out while the getting was good was correct. Another storm came in, and yesterday's weather report from Angels Camp contained snow showers.